A Necessary Woman

by A. E. Easterlin

  He’d lost. She wasn’t the kind of woman to turn her back on anyone who needed her, man, woman, or child—white or Indian. With a sinking sensation in his gut, he knew she’d made up her mind to accompany Black Hawk, and he had little to say about it.

  “Suzanna, damn it, no,” Jake protested, knowing all the while it was futile, but he had to try.

  She stepped in front of him and turned to Black Hawk. “How many are sick and how many have died?” she asked.

  “Four old ones and two children have already gone to our fathers. But six of the little ones have spots covering them. Please, come. We must go now.”

  “Black Hawk, I need to gather supplies, and Jake must get the cattle ready.” She turned to Jake. “Can you spare anyone to go with us, anyone at all?”

  Pete stepped forward, and Jake immediately glared at the man. Like hell. Oh, Pete could protect Suzanna, and possibly help with the Indians. But he was still in love with her, and Jake didn’t want him acting as bodyguard for his wife. Anyway, as foreman, Pete was needed here.

  “No, someone else. Hank?” Pete’s second in command would take care of her, plus he was very handy with a gun.

  Hank nodded, and tipped his hat to Suzanna. “Don’t you worry none, ma’am. I done some caring for men in my time, and I can help. We’ll get you where you have to go and back home to the boss none the worse for wear.” At Pete’s nod, he left to saddle two of Jake’s best mounts and get his own gear together.

  Pete headed to the corral for the beef, and Suzanna hurried up the stairs to collect her valise and pack some warm clothes. Jake trailed her all the way up.

  “Suzanna, don’t do this. Don’t go with him. You don’t know what you might find when you get there. They could all be dead by now, and you’ve no idea what it’s like to live in an Indian camp. There are no luxuries; it’s crude living, at best.”

  She drew him a few steps away and whispered, “Is this because it’s Black Hawk, and you’re jealous of him? If so, you’re being ridiculous. I have no designs on an Indian chief.”

  “Yes, but he definitely has designs on you. The eagle feathers left at the schoolhouse door—remember? He wants you. These people take what they want. What if he decides to keep you captive? What then? He could be all the way to Canada before the army or my men could find you. You should stay here. I need you. Charlie needs you.”

  “Since when do you care if Charlie needs me, Jake? What he needs is his father’s attention—to hold him and love him.”

  “That isn’t fair. I do what I can for the boy. He doesn’t like me.”

  “Posh! He doesn’t dislike you; he’s too little to dislike anyone. Try, Jake, try. This is the perfect opportunity. While I’m gone with Black Hawk, you can take care of your son yourself. Well, with Martha’s help. The point is, you should take this time to acquaint yourself with the fine art of parenting. Believe it or not, you two need each other.”

  “No!”

  “I have to go. Surely you can understand. I can’t leave these people to die when I might be able to help save them. Even one life is precious. I love you, Jake, but you’re a better man than this. I know you, and you have never turned your back on anyone in your entire life. If you don’t trust Black Hawk, trust me.”

  “Trusting you is not the issue,” he reluctantly replied.

  Useless to argue. She was going.

  “Don’t be this way, Jake. You know I have to go. I can’t ignore the needs of these people. They need me. If it is the pox, it will spread like wildfire and kill everyone. Is that what you want? Now, you can either help me or hinder me, but either way, I’m going.” Her mind was made up.

  He crushed her in his arms. “Take care, Suzanna! You’re my life. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

  “I’ll be careful, Jake, I promise. Do you think I would take chances if I thought I’d not come home to you and Charlie? The two of you are everything to me. If Black Hawk cares for me as you say he does, he won’t let anything bad happen to me.”

  “The danger is not him keeping you safe. The danger is him not bringing you home. If you feel uncomfortable, if he acts without propriety, tell Hank to get you the hell out of there. Promise me.”

  “Of course I promise. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. You forget what I’ve done, and what I’ve been through. I’m accustomed to rough conditions, dealing with illness, and worse. I survived a war—try to have a little faith in me.”

  She had the last word. As usual.

  Suzanna tied her medical kit with extra medicines on the side of her saddle. Hank brought a pony laden with extra blankets, dried jerky, beans, flour, sugar, and coffee. The cattle meandered between the four horses as they traveled to the base of the mountains, accompanied by Jake, who rode out with them, then took her aside.

  “Promise me you’ll be careful. No heroics. You’re too important to me—to everyone—to take a chance with your life. If I had any sense at all, I’d hogtie you and take you home with me right now, but you wouldn’t stay. I’ll give you two weeks…two weeks, do you hear? And then I’m coming for you.”

  “Jake, Hank and Black Hawk will make sure I’m all right. I promise to take no unnecessary chances. Nursing sick and wounded people is something I know how to do. I’ll assess and treat those I can help, and if there’s anything else I need, I’ll send Hank. Trust me. Now kiss me goodbye, and let’s get on our way. The sooner we go, the sooner I’ll return. I’m anxious to see what awaits me.”

  “I love you, Suzanna. I love you,” Jake whispered in her ear, and kissed her as if there were no one else around. He walked her over to Black Hawk, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders.

  “Take care of my wife. I’m asking for your word of honor that you’ll take care of her and return her safely to me. Do I have it?”

  The Indian nodded in agreement. “She will come to no harm.”

  Jake helped her remount, squeezed her knee, and reined his horse in the direction of the ranch. Black Hawk led Suzanna and Hank farther up into the mountains. Before long, they were out of sight of each other, with miles of untamed wilderness separating them. She missed Jake already but resolutely faced forward.

  They hadn’t been apart since their marriage, and her nerves fluttered in her stomach. The Indian chief was an unknown, despite his promise that she would come to no harm. But she’d committed to helping him and his people, and she couldn’t back out now.

  Black Hawk rode by Suzanna as they climbed into the high country and traversed the animal trails at the pinnacles of the towering mountain peaks. Three braves joined their party as escort, their eyes on the cattle and the rear of the caravan.

  As worried as Suzanna was about leaving Jake and about what lay ahead at the Indian camp, she couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of the scenery. At these high elevations, the snow was pristine, marred only by a few small animal tracks and the dusted white outlines of evergreens. It was cold but dry, a comfortable ride, especially with the sun flirting in and out in the bright Wyoming sky.

  At nightfall they stopped. Black Hawk told her they had only one morning’s journey before they would reach the encampment. She followed him as he cut through a maze of tangled fir and spruce and led the party to the entrance of a well hidden cave.

  “We will camp here for the night. It is warm, and you will be safe from the animals that roam the darkness.” Black Hawk led her about halfway into the dome-shaped room of the cave.

  Others must have used the natural formation as a resting place. A cache of furs lined one wall and a ringed fire pit sat in the center. Looking up to the ceiling, she could see a small opening, a naturally formed flue, and as Black Hawk started a fire, the smoke drew upward. They could enjoy the warmth of the flames without choking.

  “This is an amazing place, Black Hawk.” Suzanna said, as she walked around the enclosure. “What are those paintings on the walls?”

  “The old ones took shelter here when they hunted tatanka. The marks t
ell the story of the hunt. See, here, men are killing the beasts with bow and arrow. Over there, women are scraping and preparing the hides, and preserving the meat. No part of the sacrificed animal is wasted. The buffalo gives us meat, weapons, tools. We are careful to give him the respect he deserves and offer thanks to the Great Father for his life. Now there are not many left. White hunters have killed them for sport, taken their hides and heads, leaving the rest to rot in the heat of the sun. White men are fools.”

  “Not all white men,” Suzanna protested.

  “Most,” Black Hawk argued. “But you, Su-za-na, you are not a fool. You are friend. You know there is danger, but you come to help my people. You do me honor, and I am grateful. Cantrell is not worthy of you.”

  “My husband is a good man. You’re wrong about him. He makes mistakes like any other. No man is perfect. He didn’t mean to hurt your sister.”

  The Indian grunted in disbelief, and stood. “She is dead.” The conversation was over.

  Suzanna didn’t want to anger him, so she quietly moved toward a pile of furs against the rock wall of the cave and made herself comfortable. The men bedded down at the front of the shelter and left her the bed of skins.

  Black Hawk sat guard by the fire, feeding it with small pieces of wood stacked against the wall of the cave. Every now and then he glanced her way. She had no way of knowing what he was thinking, but she didn’t feel threatened or frightened. For some reason, Black Hawk made her feel safe, just as Jake made her feel safe.

  Though she was exhausted, Suzanna watched the young warrior through her lashes. He was a powerfully built man of indeterminate age. Possibly thirty or so. Tall, well-muscled, tough. A leader of his people, he obviously commanded the respect of his tribe. She’d seen evidence of their obedience and deference.

  It surprised her that she admired him. So strange to have those feelings about a man of another race. She’d had no previous acquaintance with Indians but had heard horror stories of women raped, children murdered. She couldn’t imagine such behavior from Black Hawk. She’d seen his love for his sister. He was not an unfeeling savage.

  Underneath the varying color of skin, and the different customs of their people, all men were the same. She’d certainly learned that lesson well during the war—men bled and died without respect to race or creed or political association. She watched Black Hawk by the flames of the fire until her eyes closed, and slept without waking until the early dawn shone down through the hole of the cave.

  When Suzanna woke, Hank and Black Hawk were already about their business. She made a quick trip to the bushes, came back, and stoked the fire with fresh wood. Hank brought her the coffeepot, and before long they had a cup of the bracing liquid with some bacon and biscuits for breakfast. The sun was barely in the sky before they were mounted and on their way.

  “We will reach the village by noon,” Black Hawk told her. The closer they came, the more anxious Suzanna felt. She dreaded what they might find, if indeed the illness turned out to be smallpox or chicken pox. Indigenous populations had no resistance to the diseases the white men brought with them as they migrated west. She feared many could die.

  A few women milled around the camp as they entered. About sixty cone-shaped dwellings were grouped along the bank of a fairly wide stream. Black Hawk rode to the center of the village, and soon they were surrounded by brown-skinned people with anxious expressions tempered by obvious curiosity.

  Black Hawk greeted his people, no doubt telling them she had come to help. They welcomed her with timid smiles and excited words as if she could understand everything that was being said. Suzanna tried to smile reassuringly and turned to Black Hawk to interpret her instructions.

  “I suggest we isolate all the people who are already showing signs of illness. This will protect the others from exposure and allow me to attend them more easily. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Suzanna thought she caught a glimpse of a smile in the stoic warrior’s demeanor.

  “I understand, Su-za-na. We will move those who are ill there, beyond the village.” He pointed toward a copse of trees farther down the shallow, winding river. He gestured to the men standing ready at his command, and at once a flurry of activity began.

  Men, women, and children broke down dwellings in various places, moving the simple structures to the area designated for the sick. It surprised her how quickly the hide coverings and lodge poles were disassembled and camp set up farther downstream. The women helped the suffering settle with a minimum of confusion and discomfort. She watched the entire process in amazement. Organized and intelligent—as much as any other group of people. Perhaps she had formed a mistaken opinion about the people native to America. It made her ashamed.

  Black Hawk watched her. Suzanna glanced in his direction with equal curiosity. He had about him an unmistakable air of authority, and here in his natural home he made an awesome sight. As she glanced around the camp, she realized all these people depended on his leadership and guidance, and she felt her breath catch in her throat in awe that was part fear, part reluctant wonder. He was a man apart. Their eyes met and locked, an unspoken current of…something… passed between them.

  Black Hawk’s dark eyes traveled her body, and she felt a shiver of awareness.

  They take what they want…he wants you…you don’t know how these people think.

  Remembering Jake’s warning, she felt her stomach churn. She was married, and the admiration she felt for him was wrong. He was different and she was curious—that’s all it was. She quickly looked away, breaking the connection. Wrong or not, there was a bond between them, and she fervently hoped it was one of friendship and nothing more.

  Black Hawk walked slowly toward Suzanna. She bravely met his gaze. “You are ready to see those who are ill? I will take you.” He never left her side, not once, as they visited the sick.

  Several women were assigned to help her, and they worked through the afternoon and into the night. It would not be possible to totally isolate the stricken, but she wanted to keep them as far away as possible from those showing no symptoms.

  Through Black Hawk, she instructed the tribe to watch for signs of fever, lethargy, and rashes. It was extremely important to keep away from the infected and to wash as often as possible to prevent the further spread of the disease.

  Suzanna’s heart caught in her throat as she saw the precious little ones covered in clear blisters. Chicken pox. The children were itching and miserable, and poultices would help them stop scratching. She mimed how to boil buckets of water over a flaming fire, then pack the buckets in ice to cool the water.

  As soon as she reached for water, Black Hawk was there to hand it to her. If she called for blankets, bindings, or her little bag of herbs—Black Hawk retrieved them. After a while, she noticed the Indians glancing their way with thinly disguised curiosity on their faces.

  She wondered why, then realized how unusual it would seem to his people that their chief personally attended to her requests. As a woman, she should be waiting on him. By his attentions, he claimed her. No other brave came near. It was a protection, yes, but also a concern. Black Hawk did not hide his admiration for her but sought her out, standing near and watching her every move.

  The more he watched, the more Hank watched. Jake’s man was never out of her sight, ready at any time to come to her defense. He was openly distrustful of Black Hawk and thus not a popular person in the camp.

  She examined a small child—a beautiful girl of about three, all dark eyes and shiny hair, but beginning to break out in clear, itchy blisters. “I brought some strips of linen from the house, and a basket of herbs. Could someone fetch them for me?”

  Black Hawk quickly set the items by her side, speaking encouragingly to the child, wiping her tears, gently attending to her needs. When he noticed Suzanna watching, he smiled, and she could not help but smile in return.

  Four children, all under the age of six, and two older women were showing signs of blisters. She
asked for a few ears of dried corn, a bowl, and a small smooth stone to act as a pestle. Her strong fingers tore the kernels from the cobs and ground them between two stones until they formed a dry coarse paste. Taking one of the cheesecloth strips she’d brought from home, she scooped the corn mixture into the center. Adding small amounts of hot water to the corn, she squeezed the cloth, allowing a milky substance to filter through.

  A few of the women watched her closely and then began to mimic her preparations. When they had enough to fill a medium-sized gourd, Suzanna bathed the suffering ones in cool, boiled water and dabbed the finely ground cornstarch on the itchy bumps. It seemed to relieve the adults, but the children still wanted to scratch.

  She wrapped their little hands in clean cloths and held their hands down by their sides. Black Hawk warned them not to rub the blisters, and at the stern order from their chief, they nodded with wide, black eyes in their little faces. Not one wanted to incur the wrath of the mighty Black Hawk. As gentle as he was with them, they had no doubt seen his ferocity. They obeyed and lay perfectly still, until Black Hawk placed his large hand gently on each child’s head. His touch eased their fear, but not enough to move their arms.

  Suzanna turned to thank Black Hawk and was astonished at the tender expression on his face as he gazed at the children. He noticed her reaction and raised his eyebrows.

  “You should not be surprised, Su-za-na. Do you not think we feel affection the same as you? There is great love among the People, man for woman, fathers for children. Do we not bleed red the same as you? Scratch my skin, and see if it is not the same color as that of your husband. You have much to learn of our ways.”

  He lifted his chin in the direction of the river, his long, black hair blowing in the breeze. He gestured for her to follow him as he moved toward the river. Reaching an outcropping of rocks, he rested his foot atop the closest one and waited until she came to stand beside him.