A Necessary Woman

by A. E. Easterlin

  “Do not believe everything you hear. There is good and bad in all men, red or white. You are a good woman. I saw this when you tried to help my sister. You could not change the will of the Great Father, but I knew then you were a healer—a shaman. Great power comes from your spirit.” His expressive hands gestured toward her breast.

  He paused and stared directly into her eyes. “It is not good that Jake Cantrell has you for his wife. He does not need you. You stay with the People…with me…and you will bring good medicine. We will have great need of you in the days ahead.”

  Her heart stuttered in her chest, and she struggled to remain calm. “No. I will help with your people now, but then I must return to my husband, my home, just as you promised. I cannot stay. My husband…I need to be with him. I could not be content away from him.”

  “In time, you would be happy here.”

  Black Hawk stared, his black eyes boring into her, and what she saw written in their depths frightened her. Jake had intimated this man wouldn’t return her to the ranch—that he might try and keep her. Had her husband been right? Would the Indian try to keep her here?

  She had no choice but to trust him; he’d given his word to take her home. No. That wasn’t entirely true. Jake had asked for his word to bring her safely back to him. “She will come to no harm.” That was what the Indian had promised. Had he never intended to return her to her husband? Was Jake right, after all?

  Hank sat beneath a nearby tree, his knife whittling on some sort of animal—a gift for one of the children. But his keen gaze followed every move Black Hawk made. Thank God he was with her. She promised herself to speak with him as soon as possible. They might need to plan an escape.

  She didn’t know the customs and rituals among his people, but she remembered his words to Jake about Little Bird. If Black Hawk took her into his lodge and stayed the night with her, she would be his wife, according to Indian custom. Then she would never get away. Making every effort to keep her distance, she tried to avoid being near him, but Black Hawk made that impossible. His constant presence was both protection and guarantee she could not leave.

  The next day, he knelt by the side of a four-year-old boy while Suzanna gently washed the sores covering the child’s arms and chest. “I am sorry your sister was hurt by Jake,” she said softly to Black Hawk, hoping to open a channel of conversation with him, reason with him to let her go.

  “Jake entered her lodge, but he did not accept her as wife. I do not respect Cantrell for his behavior toward Little Bird.”

  Nor did she, but she had forgiven him.

  If Black Hawk wanted to keep her, Hank was the only person in camp she could turn to, and he was completely outnumbered. Without a doubt he would be killed, and there was no way she could allow that to happen. No, her return depended on Black Hawk keeping his word. Since honor was a word he mentioned often, she prayed he would do the honorable thing when the time came.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way. I have always known him to be a good man, a responsible man. He’s accepted Charlie into our family; we love him.”

  “He is kind to the boy?” Black Hawk asked.

  “He is always kind. Jake would never hurt a child, but…”

  “You are not with child?” he asked quietly, his eyes resting on her belly.

  Suzanna felt the blood rush to her face, but she politely answered him. “No. No, I am not with child.”

  “Why?” he queried.

  “This is not something I will discuss with you,” her breath escaping in a rush.

  He laughed. “You are angry with me, Su-za-na. White women do not talk of such things with men?”

  “No! They most certainly do not. Only with their husbands,” she sputtered, indignation making her brave. “You should go.” She shooed him away with her hands. “Leave me now to help these little ones.”

  Black Hawk laughed again. Far from being angry with her, he seemed to find her amusing, and that was worse. Rather than interacting with her as a chief to an individual, he responded as a man to a woman. His manner flirtatious, familiar—or the Indian equivalent of it. More than physical danger hovered around her.

  Suzanna had just ordered him to leave. Even she knew that simply was not done. One did not order Black Hawk to do anything. And though they did not understand her words, those close enough to hear clearly grasped the meaning of her tone. Two braves stepped into her line of vision, waiting on his instructions.

  He waved them back, as his gaze lingered on her face. “It is as you wish, Su-za-na. We will not speak of such things.”

  But his eyes continued to follow her wherever she went.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Several days passed, and Black Hawk remained close by as she tended to those who were ill. He sent out a hunting party to supplement the beef from their ranch, and attended to members of his tribe. He was always at her side—always. There was no more talk of her staying…or her leaving.

  Suzanna appreciated his courtesy, respect, and kindness. As she was constantly in his presence, her thinking underwent a subtle change. She ceased to see him as an Indian, as different, and subconsciously began to view him simply as a man, one of power and authority, a man plainly interested in her as a woman.

  Following his example, the entire tribe treated her with the same deference and affection. She experienced no fear as she walked among them, not of the men or the women. She was becoming a part of the daily fabric of their lives, which both pleased and frightened her.

  One day blurred into the next, a couple of weeks passed, and Suzanna saw some improvement in her patients. The people around her did too. They came to her freely with offers of help, and watched as she prepared medicines from her satchel of herbs.

  The Indian women brought her plants indigenous to the area and explained their uses. One morning several baskets were placed outside her tent. It was a collection of dried medicinal plants to take home with her. The Indians were learning from her, and she from them, and after spending this time with them she counted them as friends. It was impossible to remain aloof. She’d grown to know them and love them. And they her. She counted this gift a mixed blessing—either Black Hawk intended to take her home or he had instructed them to make her one of their own.

  When he began to avoid her company, her trepidation grew. She observed him in discussion with his braves, especially those she’d learned were closest to him—the most trusted, the most fearsome.

  Suzanna tirelessly tended her patients, keeping their fevers down as best she could, gently washing the oozing sores, comforting the children. She made gallons of willow bark tea to ease the pain of the festering blisters. She gave it to them to drink and squeezed the liquid over the inflamed tissues on their bodies.

  She sat with them during the day and slept by their pallets at night. Two more children and another adult came down with the pox, but those she’d seen from the beginning improved. She stopped her efforts only to attend to her own needs.

  The women of the village made sure she had plenty to eat and drink. Black Hawk saw to it that she was relieved from bedside duties long enough to refresh herself and rest.

  Though her original patients improved, a few more came down with the pox. The time stretched endlessly, hour into hour, day into day. Two weeks turned into four, and she longed to return to the ranch, to Jake, and to Charlie. Soon the weather would make the mountains impassable, and she began to worry in earnest.

  Jake’s deadline had expired.

  Jake, where are you?

  By now he must surely be frantic, so why had he not come for her? Two weeks… He had said he’d give her two weeks, and it had been nearly twice that long. What could have happened?

  The longer she stayed, the more she feared Black Hawk would turn from friend to captor. A blind woman could see he had developed affection for her, and she wanted to go home. She must, for she was becoming entirely too attached to the tribe and to him.

  The uncertainty of how long she would be
with them began to take a toll on her emotions; her nerves stretched thin. The ill members of the tribe needed her still, but her anxiety weighed heavily on her mind.

  Suzanna felt more encouraged by the results of her measures to isolate those ill from those who were not. There was no cure to offer Black Hawk’s people, but the spread of the disease had been halted. Perhaps she could return home in another week.

  She approached Black Hawk. “I’ve done all I can. There’s no reason for me to stay. Your people are recuperating well, and I must return to my family. I would appreciate an escort through the mountains, but if that is not possible, Hank will guide us home.”

  For a long while, silence prevailed.

  “So you wish to leave me?” he asked finally as he planted his feet apart and crossed his arms across his broad chest. The warmth in his eyes cooled, and her heart began to beat rapidly in her chest.

  Treading carefully, she replied with gentle persuasion. “It is not that I wish to leave you, Black Hawk, but my life is not here with you and the People. My life is with Jake and Charlie, and all those who depend on me back home. I miss them. The danger for your tribe is over. It’s time for me to go.”

  He listened but made no commitment to take her home. She hesitated to anger him and waited patiently for an opportune time to ask again.

  That night, she deliberately ignored the frequent remarks Black Hawk made about her remaining with the tribe. He’d agreed to return her safely to Jake, but she feared he’d changed his mind.

  The next night, he joined her at the fire outside her tepee. The only sounds were the wind whistling through the trees and the ever-present rush of the river behind the camp. He stood staring down at her, but when she didn’t acknowledge him, he sat.

  Staring into the fire, he began to speak, his voice deep, solemn. “My mother was white, a very beautiful woman. She was educated, and it was she who taught me white words and white ways. My father, the Old Chief, had gone on a raiding party and saw her from a distance. She had hair like the sun and skin like the first snow of winter. He desired her. He took her. Great Eagle was a mighty warrior, and many women wanted to marry him. But after he saw my mother, there was no other for him. He let his heart lead him.

  “He thought about her for many moons, and still he did not forget her. One night he stole through the darkness, took her from her father’s farm, and brought her to the village. She was unhappy at first, and hated him. But Great Eagle was patient with her. He loved her and wanted her to be happy. After a time, she grew used to him and our ways, and agreed to stay with him. As a white woman would say, she fell in love with him. He took no other wife all his days.”

  “Black Hawk…” Suzanna began warily.

  He interrupted her with a raised hand. “What a man does when he follows his heart can have consequences that affect many people. This I know. What my father felt for my mother is what I feel for you, Su-za-na. I will not lie. I see how you are with my people. You have come to care for them, and they for you. You would be a happy woman here, with me. And I am a man of honor.”

  “I’m married,” she stressed softly. “I love my husband. You gave him your word you would return me to him. Please do not spoil our friendship with talk of keeping me here. I cannot stay. There are many beautiful women here. I see the way they look at you. Any one of them would be proud to have you for a husband.”

  “It is not them I want.” Fire burned in his eyes. “You are the woman I want, just as my father wanted my mother. I could force you to stay.”

  “Yes, you could,” she answered. “But you will not. You will not because you are Black Hawk, Warrior Chief of the People, and by your own words a man of honor. A man I have come to respect. My friend.”

  “It is not your friendship I desire, Su-za-na. I would be your lover, your protector, your husband.”

  They stared into each other’s eyes, and a solitary tear fell down her cheek. She repeated only four words: “I have a husband.”

  He sat as still as the night around them. The cool wind blew, and the fire crackled. Sparks danced into the black of night and disappeared into wisps of smoke.

  Black Hawk stared into the flames for a long while. In a voice low and deep, eclipsed by regret and pain, he spoke. “We will leave tomorrow. The words you speak are wise. I will marry another, in time, because I must. It is my duty.” The Indian chief reached for her hand. Her fingers were cold, his so warm, so steady, so sure.

  “But you, shaman of life and light, you will always be the First Wife, the wife of my heart.” He touched his hand to his heart.

  Outlined by the fire, he presented a fierce image. Tightly controlled features, his inner emotions evident only by the harsh lines framing his mouth, a tic flexing in his cheek as the muscle in his jaw worked furiously. His eyes burned like the coals of the fire.

  He stood, gazing down at her, his long dark hair caught back with a leather strap, an eagle’s feather drifting over one ear. The firelight cast shadows over his roughly hewn face and muscular body. His hand rested lightly on her head, absently stroking her hair. Head thrown back, he keened softly to the heavens—she did not know the song—but her heart knew its meaning and was rent in two.

  Suzanna would always remember this moment. When she looked back on her life, she would remember his image. Proud. Beautiful. Strong. Primitive warrior. Leader of people. He took her breath away. They were from two different worlds, but had she not been Jake’s wife, things might have been different between them.

  For reasons she didn’t want to examine, tears welled in her eyes and escaped in hot streams down her cold cheeks. Black Hawk saw them and touched one finger to her cheek, wiping the moisture from under her trembling lashes. The gesture was tender and surprised her, until she saw the pain clouding his eyes.

  “Hear me now. If you need me, I will come for you. Do you understand me, Su-za-na?” His large hand descended, and she placed her delicate one in it. Slowly and deliberately he pulled her up beside him and placed her hand upon his heart; his hand upon hers.

  “My lodge will be your lodge. My people, your people, wife of my heart.”

  As he drew her closer, he lowered his mouth and captured her lips. Gentle, poignant, passionate. Goodbye.

  During the night, she heard a tapping at the edge of the buffalo hide near her bed of furs. A hand snaked in and loosened the stakes that tethered the tepee to the ground. She swallowed a cry.

  “Shh…Miss Suzanna.” Hank poked his head in under the loosened hides. “You ready to go home, ma’am?” he whispered.

  “Of course I’m ready. Black Hawk is taking me in the morning. I spoke with him just this evening.”

  “I don’t think so, ma’am. I overheard him and his braves. I couldn’t understand the words, but he argued with two of the other men, and I saw what they were drawing in the dirt. From their gestures and the map, they’re heading north to Canada. No detour down the mountain. He’s not taking you home; he’s taking you with him.”

  Oh, no. Jake—you were right.

  “Come in, and be quiet,” she whispered, glancing at the folded flap of the tepee.

  Hank quietly snuck under the edge. “I’ve packed my gear and saddled two horses.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “They’re hidden downstream. We’ve got to go before morning, while the camp’s still asleep. There’s a bright moon tonight, but the going will be rough. If we leave, do you think you could make it? It’ll be too late if we wait until morning.”

  She couldn’t believe Black Hawk had lied, but at the same time, she’d seen evidence of his desire for her in his eyes. If he got her to Canada, she would be lost forever, with no hope for escape or a return to the arms of her husband.

  She had no choice. They had to get away. Now.

  Dressing hurriedly, she threw on her cloak. Her valise and medical bag were near the front flap of the tepee. Hank grabbed them and stuck his head out to look for sentries. As one of the braves walked away from them, Hank motioned for her to
follow him in the other direction. Making as little noise as possible they crouched low and headed for the trees near the river.

  Stealthily they crept through the black of night. It was deathly cold. A few flakes of snow had begun to fall, and their breath left puffs of white as they tiptoed along the trail. So far, so good. If they were lucky, the new snow would cover their tracks by morning.

  They slowly made their way to the outskirts of the village, the dogs miraculously quiet. Picking up the pace once they cleared the last dwelling, Hank guided her about two hundred yards. Crossing a shallow trail through the stream, they came upon the horses. The two mounts snorted and blew through their nostrils as they approached, and Suzanna glanced back in alarm.

  The village was still; no one knew they’d escaped.

  Careful not to spook the horses, they mounted and rode, the footfalls from the horses’ hooves muted by the carpet of white. Down the mountainside they went, picking their way through the trees, through an outcropping of rocks and junipers, into valleys and up the steep incline of another mountain. As daylight began to dawn, they realized they’d made good time, and she began to feel confident they’d gotten enough of a head start before the Indians discovered her disappearance.

  That’s when braves surrounded them from every direction, closing in from behind the trees, leaving no path for escape. Black Hawk was not among them. Reproach and betrayal shone on their faces. They had accepted her as their friend, but their loyalty was to their chief.

  “You come.” The one called Spotted Horse pointed in the direction of the village with his bow.

  Suzanna and Hank stood firm. The braves tightened the circle. Again Spotted Horse pointed to the trail back to the village.

  “You come,” he said, louder this time, as if to make her understand. “Chief want.”

  “Spotted Horse, I’m returning to my husband.” She had no idea if he could understand her, but she had to try.

  “Miss Suzanna,” Hank barely spoke from the corner of his mouth. “I’m going to distract them. When I do, make a run for it. Go as fast as you can, ride hard, and don’t stop. When I get away, I’ll find you. If I don’t come back, keep heading south and west. Keep going—no matter what.”