"It's good to see you, my friend," he heard her say in a soft, breathless voice. "I hope you've come to stay for a while."
Spirit Eagle hugged her close, then pushed her away. "I saw you at your father's grave, Little Wind, but I did not want to intrude. Have the days been good to you?"
Jon's finger tightened near the rifle trigger. He sure as hell hadn't known that Indian was around. How long had he been watching them? And how many times had he followed them?
"Pretty good," Caitlyn told him. "But there's been someone snooping around here. Did you run across anyone?"
"It was Tall Man," Spirit Eagle told her. "And he did not want you to know he was here. He has gone back to his winter camp now. I saw him leave as I came."
Jon snorted and swung down from his horse. "Well, I haven't seen anyone — just you! How the hell do I know it hasn't been you prowling around?"
"Because I have said so," Spirit Eagle said in a calm voice as he turned to face Jon. His voice belied the tenseness in his body, though, and Jon's eyes narrowed.
This man could be dangerous. Jon sensed that as surely as he had the few times before in his life when he'd encountered men he respected. This man wouldn't back-shoot you — he'd face you down in a fair fight, then lift your hair and howl in victory if he won.
But this man also still had his arm around Caitlyn.
"Stop it! Both of you!" Caitlyn stepped between the men. "My friend came here to see me, Jon, and he's welcome in my home. I'll take care of the horses, if you want to go on in and rest your knee."
"Has your friend got a name, Little Wind?" Jon asked, barely concealing the snarl in his voice.
"Most people do." Caitlyn started to reach for the reins of Jon's horse, but he jerked them back.
"I'll take care of my own damned horse." He turned to untie his crutch from the saddle, tensing once again when he sensed the Indian man moving over to him, though he couldn't hear the soft footsteps of his moccasined feet.
"I am called Spirit Eagle," the Indian said.
Jon glanced down in surprise to see Spirit Eagle's hand extended in friendship. Honor-bound to accept, Jon grasped the other man's palm.
"Jon Clay," he said. "From Virginia."
"I have known Little Wind since she first came to this land with her father," Spirit Eagle explained after he shook Jon's hand. "I call her this because even on still days a little wind blows in the mountains."
Jon chuckled under his breath. "Yeah, I can understand that. One thing Caitlyn isn't is ever still."
"You two quit talking about me like I can't hear every word you say!" Caitlyn demanded. When the men grinned at each other, she stamped her foot and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "You can fix your owned darned supper, you keep this up!"
Full-fledged laughter was her answer, and she grabbed her pinto's reins and stormed toward the corral. Maybe she would fix supper after all. Just to see their faces when they tried to eat it!
"I will care for your horse, if you wish," Spirit Eagle said when his laughter abated. "I will not be staying long enough for this meal Little Wind may change her mind and cook for you. When we meet the next time, you can tell me how it tasted."
"Thanks," Jon said as he handed the Indian the reins. "My knee is paining me pretty bad, but don't tell Caitlyn that. And there's some leftover stew from last night inside. Figure I'll eat some of it now, so I won't be so hungry later on."
Jon reached out his hand again. "Good to meet you, Spirit Eagle."
Spirit Eagle nodded as he grasped Jon's hand. "Little Wind is a fine woman, now at last grown," he said. "You are lucky she has chosen you."
"Well, I don't know about that," Jon said as his face flushed. "Caitlyn's determined not to get tied up with any man."
"Even the little wind finds a home at night," Spirit Eagle said. "I must talk to her now."
Jon nodded agreeably and tucked his crutch under his arm to limp into the cabin. Just inside the door, he stopped abruptly and stared at what was laying on his bunk.
Uh oh. What was Caitlyn going to think about this? He glanced at the overhead shelf to see a few new articles there, already unpacked and looking like they were there to stay. Grinning to himself, he reached down and pulled the blanket on his bunk up a little higher.
Dog, lying on the end of the bunk, whined and brushed his tail back and forth on the blanket.
After Spirit Eagle unsaddled Jon's horse, he spoke quietly to Caitlyn. "There is something I must ask you, Little Wind. It is something very important to me."
Caitlyn dumped a pail of grain into the feed trough. "Well, you got a funny way of asking a favor, Spirit Eagle. Do you laugh at Morning Star when you want her to do something for you?"
Spirit Eagle's face broke up in pain, and Caitlyn quickly reached out a hand to him. "What is it? No! Oh, Spirit Eagle, what's happened to Morning Star?"
Spirit Eagle clenched his fists at his sides, trying desperately to control his emotions. For a long, strained moment he stood rigid, unable to look into Caitlyn's worried face. Finally he whirled toward the corral fence and gripped the top railing, staring off up the mountain.
"Spirit Eagle?" Caitlyn whispered.
"In a few days the spirit month will be on us," Spirit Eagle said in a tight voice. "The weeks the whites call Indian Summer. It is said that the spirits of our ancestors come back with the morning mists we see on those days. I want to try to see her once more — to tell her I will not forget her, and that our son will know her through me."
"Oh my God." Caitlyn breathed. Her eyes filled with tears, both for the suffering she knew her dear friend had to be experiencing and her own feeling of loss for the beautiful Indian woman she had also called friend.
"Oh, Spirit Eagle. I'm sorry."
"As I am," Spirit Eagle replied in a tortured voice. He glanced down at Caitlyn at last. "Will you do this for me then? You have already done much for Morning Star and me. You helped her escape Tall Man and run to me, even though Tall Man had already paid a bride's price for her. We were happy together, even if we could not return to the Nez Perce and visit our families."
Spirit Eagle drew in a deep breath. "I do not like to ask this of you, because I owe you my thanks for the two years of happiness I had with my loved one. But there is no one else."
"You haven't asked anything yet, Spirit Eagle." Caitlyn swiped at a tear running down her cheek, and suddenly her eyes widened. "Little Sun! Spirit Eagle, where's yours and Morning Star's son?"
Spirit Eagle smiled through his pain. "He is a fine son. There is much of Morning Star in him, but much of me, also. He will grow into a fine warrior."
"Spirit Eagle, I just can't! I mean, he's only about a year old. I don't know a thing about taking care of a young'un! Why, we don't even have any milk here. Babies need milk, don't they?"
"Little Sun is one season and three months," Spirit Eagle told her. "He has been eating out of the cooking pot for a long while."
Caitlyn glanced worriedly at the cabin, unconsciously chewing on the inside of her cheek. She'd visited Spirit Eagle and his wife twice after they were banned from the Nez Perce — once when Morning Star was large with child and once when Little Sun was just four months old.
If any baby had ever threatened to break through her reserve around them, it had been Little Sun. She recalled his dark, inquisitive bright eyes on her face, and the smile he had directed at her, lifting his arms and begging for her to pick him up as he chortled senseless babbles. Morning Star had swept her baby up with a laugh, then placed him trustingly into Caitlyn's arms.
Her arms grew heavy with the remembered weight, and she could feel the silkiness of the baby's hair against her palm as though she had only touched him yesterday. But she slowly shook her head. The nightmare had returned that night when she camped with Mick on the mountainside. She'd woke screaming in fear, and sobbed in Paw's arms for a long time.
She'd thought she'd conquered the nightmare — it had been years since she experienced it. But it ret
urned almost nightly after Mick's death, until it had finally tapered off again.
"Spirit Eagle, you don't understand. I think I'm one of those women that doesn't have the nurturing feelings most females have. I'm just not cut out to be a mother."
"Morning Star will always be his mother," Spirit Eagle said in a quiet voice. "I am only asking you to care for him while I make my journey to seek my wife for one last time in the mists. I will return for him. He is my son."
"How...?" Caitlyn steadied her voice with a gulp. "How long do you think you might be gone?"
Spirit Eagle shrugged. "That will depend on the snows. And how long it will take me to talk to her."
Caitlyn crossed her arms and held herself again while her mind whirled. Friendships. How many times had Mick told her that nothing was more important than friendships in a person's life?
How many times had Spirit Eagle kept her out of trouble during her and Paw's visits to the Nez Perce? There was that time she followed after him, insisting she was old enough to go hunting with the Indian boys. Spirit Eagle had stood between her and the other young boys' taunts, then grudgingly took her back to Mick to ask his permission for her to go with them.
Spirit Eagle had taught her to swim — after he rescued her that summer she fell in the river. He'd taught her to shoot a bow and arrow — throw a knife so well she smirked in satisfaction when the Indian boys refused to compete against her any longer.
He'd come to see her, to make sure she was all right after Paw's death — run off whoever was skulking in the bushes near the camp, getting injured himself in return.
He'd never asked her for anything before.
"I...," Caitlyn began.
"I know I can never repay you for bringing Morning Star to me, Little Wind. And now I am asking more of you."
"You never asked me to help Morning Star," Caitlyn denied stoutly. "That was all mine and her idea. I couldn't've done anything else, because she was my friend, and I knew how much she loved you."
"But it made an enemy for you. Tall Man suspects that it was you who helped Morning Star escape."
"He doesn't know for sure. And Sky Woman won't let him hurt me. Spirit Eagle, what happened to Morning Star? You never said."
"She was sick when I returned after seeing you," Spirit Eagle admitted in a ravaged voice. "She had a cough. She had this at other times, but would not let me try to return to the Nez Perce and ask for medicine. She knew I would be killed if someone saw me, because we were both banned after I stole Tall Man's bride, breaking an honored custom. She was with child again, and I think it was too hard on her body."
"Why didn't you come back and get me? I would've tried to help."
"There was not time. She asked about you, Little Wind. She said to tell you she would carry the thought of your friendship and the happiness you helped her have with her always."
Caitlyn's heart twisted, and she bit back a moan. While Spirit Eagle had been checking on her, Morning Star had fallen ill. Yet even on her death bed, her friend had asked about her. How could she do any less than care for Little Sun, the baby of her dear friend, so Spirit Eagle could seek his final peace over her death?
"There's things you'll have to tell me," she informed Spirit Eagle as she straightened her shoulders. "Like I said, I don't know much about caring for a young'un. You'll have to tell me what he likes to eat — what he likes to play with. I suppose he's at least got a mouthful of teeth by now, since he's been eating out of the cooking pot."
"Thank you, Little Wind," Spirit Eagle whispered.
A few minutes later, Caitlyn watched the Indian ride away, her head whirling again, this time with thoughts of baby care. Thank goodness she had insisted that Silas also trade with the few Plains Indians who had wandered into rendezvous. Maybe Silas and Jon thought nothing of living out the winter on meat and fat, but she knew from Mick that a diet like that left a person weak and ill in the spring. After all, a person had to take care of a person's body.
The Souix women had brought in wild rice to trade, and even some corn, plus maple syrup and sugar. But the Plains Indians had potatoes and squash — various types of beans and even herbs the women grew for their own cooking pots.
And she'd gathered wild grapes from the arbor near the cabin she and Mick had built that year they found the grapes growing. There'd been berries still hanging on the bushes when she returned to the cabin with Jon and Silas. No wild strawberries — they had ripened and gone. But plenty of dewberries, blackberries and even some blueberries in the smaller patch down here.
Jon appeared in the cabin doorway and slouched against the jamb, cocking his fingers into his buckskin pockets. Well, by diddly darn, he better not say a word! And if she caught even a hint of a smirk on his face, why, she'd wipe it off real quick!
Caitlyn slid through the corral fence and started toward the cabin. But instead of a smirk, she saw concern on Jon's face as she approached. He straightened, placing a hand on the door jamb to steady himself, and smiled at her.
"I'll help you with him, sweetheart. He's sure a cute little fellow. And I imagine Spirit Eagle wouldn't have left him unless it was because of something important."
Caitlyn nodded and brushed by him, for some reason anxious to see Little Sun. After all, she told herself, she was responsible for him now.
Dog glanced up as Caitlyn approached, but when she didn't order him down, he curled his nose back beneath his tail. Caitlyn stood by the bunk and stared down at the tiny boy. He lay on his back, one hand resting on his cheek and his small lips pursed. A fringe of black silkiness fell over his forehead, and she reached down to brush it back.
"His mother died," Caitlyn told Jon in a whisper.
"You knew her, too?"
"Uh huh. Her name was Morning Star, and she was a real close friend. This is Little Sun."
Jon stepped forward and slid one arm around her waist while he held onto his crutch with the other. Forgetting their earlier disagreement, Caitlyn leaned back into the comfort he offered as she mourned her lost friend.
"I promised him I'd look after the babe while he was gone. He wants to try to talk to her one more time."
"I guess I don't understand how he can do that," Jon said, covering one of her bare arms with his palm and rubbing it gently. "Is he going back to her grave site?"
Caitlyn briefly explained the Indians' belief in the Indian Summer mists to Jon, and he nodded his head against the top of hers. Little Sun's eyes opened and he blinked, then looked up at Caitlyn and stretched out his arms with a laugh of glee.
"Oh, Jon, I think he remembers me!"
Caitlyn brushed Jon's arm aside and reached down for the baby. She shifted him to her shoulder, and Jon tweaked Little Sun's nose. Another gleeful laugh sounded and the little boy held out his arms to Jon.
Caitlyn willingly turned around and handed the boy to Jon, then surreptitiously lifted the wet buckskin dress away from her breast while she watched Jon hold the boy in a cocked arm and sit down on the bunk. After he laid his crutch aside, Jon wiggled his free fingers on Little Sun's stomach. Little Sun giggled wildly, but suddenly Jon's face lost its smile.
"Uh...here." He held the child out to Caitlyn, but she shook her head and tucked her arms behind her back.
"You promised to help with him. I think there's some nappies up on that shelf there. Spirit Eagle said he left some. I'll get supper started."
Jon gave a groan of frustration as Caitlyn walked away, but quickly changed his attitude when Little Sun's face puckered.
"Huh," he told the tiny boy with another tickle on the stomach. "She thinks I don't know how to change a nappy. Well, we'll show her, won't we?"
He stood on his good leg and grabbed a nappy from the shelf, then sat back beside Little Sun on the bunk. It took an inordinately long time, since Jon insisted on playing with the child in between removing the soiled nappy, cleaning him from the water basin and cloth Caitlyn brought him, then penning on a clean one. But finally the job was done.
; "We'll go outside and see the horsies while Caitlyn does women's work in here," he told Little Sun in a loud enough voice for Caitlyn to hear. "She can call us when the food's done."
He stood and fixed the crutch under one arm before he picked up the little boy and shifted him to his hip, calling over his shoulder as he went through the door, "Don't forget. This little fellow has to eat what you cook, too."
Caitlyn shook her head and laughed. But after Jon closed the door, leaving her alone in the quiet cabin, her smile faltered. A tiny voice tried to creep into her mind, but she determinedly shook her head and turned back to the fireplace.
****
Chapter 15
Even Silas was taken by Little Sun and, at least for the first week, Caitlyn found the responsibility of caring for the boy caused barely a ripple in her daily chores. Silas left later, and came in earlier, rather grumpily explaining when asked that there were chores that needed to be done around the cabin before winter.
Jon, determined to exercise his knee back to health, found Little Sun toddling after him when, aided by his crutch, he limped across the yard. The tiny boy wobbled now and then, plopping down onto his padded bottom, then scrambling to his feet with a laugh and toddling off again.
Jon and Silas took turns feeding Little Sun, good-naturedly arguing over whose turn it was at each meal. Caitlyn only had to cut the meat into tiny bites and mash the vegetables into a mush. And clean up the mess on the floor after each meal. Neither Jon nor Silas ever took note of that chore.
Jon became an expert on changing nappies, and even carried them to the lake to wash. He built a small tripod over a stone-ringed fire to heat water, carefully explaining to Little Sun the danger of straying too near the flames. However, the little boy already appeared to be aware of that. He carefully kept his distance while Jon worked, quickly learning that as soon as the cloth nappies were done, Jon would heat more water for them both to bathe. He thoroughly enjoyed splashing his hands in the warm water while Jon ran a cloth over his body beneath the small, buckskin tunic.
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