“No, Black Wind. Either we both go back to the village, or we both go to the Micklins. I won’t let you send me away. We have to stay together.”
He lifted a hand to the eagle feather in his hair, felt a faint warmth on his fingertips as he untied the thong that held it in place. “Take this, Su-san-nah. Perhaps it will see you safely home.”
She shook her head, refusing to take the feather. “No, my place is here, with you.”
His gaze rested on her face, and then he nodded. “Perhaps you are right.”
“I know I am.”
He tied the feather into his hair again, then stood up, peering into the darkness, his head cocked to one side as he listened to the sounds of the night. All was quiet.
“Come,” he said, taking Susannah by the hand and lifting her to her feet.
They walked all that night and then, just as dawn was brightening the horizon, they took refuge in a small thicket not far from a shallow stream.
“How much farther is it to the Micklins?” Susannah asked.
“Many hours. We will rest here today, and continue our journey tonight, when it is cool and there is less chance of discovery.”
He ran his hand over the ground, brushing away bits of leaves and debris. Sitting down, he drew Susannah into his lap and kissed her cheek. “Are you well, wastelakapi?”
Susannah nodded. “Just tired.”
“Sleep, Su-san-nah.”
“What about you?”
“I will keep watch.”
“You need to rest.”
“I will.” He drew her head down to his shoulder, then began to massage her back. “Sleep, Su-san-nah.”
Cradled in his arms, she closed her eyes, the gentle touch of his hands stroking her back lulling her to sleep.
* * * * *
It was dark when Susannah woke. She felt a rush of panic when she realized she was alone in the thicket. Scrambling to her feet, she looked around.
“Black Wind? Black Wind, where are you?”
“Here, Su-san-nah.”
She whirled around to see him enter the thicket, his rifle in one hand, his shirt in the other. He propped his rifle against a tree, then sat down and spread his shirt, revealing a half dozen prairie turnips, wild onions and something that looked like lettuce.
“Looks healthy,” Susannah remarked as she sat down across from Black Wind.
He shrugged. “I would prefer meat, but I dare not use the rifle.” Drawing his knife, he quickly peeled a turnip and handed it to Susannah.
She had never been overly fond of raw vegetables, but she was too hungry to be picky. After they’d eaten, they walked to the stream. Susannah drank her fill, then sluiced water over her face and arms, glad that it was summer and not winter.
“Ready?” Black Wind asked as stood up.
“Yes.” She smiled at him as he reached for her hand.
Tate Sapa returned her smile, proud of her courage, of the fact that she never complained, humbled by her trust in him, in his ability to protect her, to get them to safety.
“Nice night for a walk,” Susannah remarked as they set out across the plains. “Reminds me of An American Werewolf in London.”
“What is Lon-don?”
“It’s a big city.”
“They have wolves there?”
“Not really. An American Werewolf in London is the name of a movie.” Susannah frowned, wondering how to explain moving pictures. “Movies are pictures that…” She shrugged. “That move.”
“Pictures that move? How is this possible?”
“Well, I’m afraid I don’t know exactly how they work, but I bet you’d love them. I do. Back home, I used to go to the show at least once a week. More, if I could.”
He frowned, confused by her words. “What do these pictures that move show?”
“Different things. Some movies are comedies, you know, stories that make you laugh.”
“Like Iktomi?”
“Well, sort of. Other movies are mysteries, you know, someone commits a crime and you try to figure out who did it. And then there’s science fiction…stories about things that haven’t happened yet, like Star Wars.”
“Star Wars?” Tate Sapa glanced up. “The white man has wars, even up there?”
“Well, in science fiction they do. There are lots of movies about what life on other planets might be like.”
Tate Sapa frowned. “You believe there is life on the stars?”
“I don’t know, but some people do. There are Western movies too, with cowboys and Indians.”
Tate Sapa grunted softly, frowning as he tried to imagine pictures that moved and told a story at the same time. “I think I should like to see these pictures that move.”
“I wish you could.”
“Tell me of your time, Su-san-nah.”
“Geez, I don’t know where to start. Hardly anything in my time is the way it is here. We don’t ride horses anymore. There are hardly any empty spaces left. Everyone is always in a hurry. We have machines that do practically everything… I don’t know how to explain what a machine is, except to say they do most of the work nowadays. Women don’t have to wash their clothes in the river, or cook over an open fire, the way the Indian women do. You just put your clothes in the machine, add some soap, and the machine washes your clothes for you. Same with cooking. You put the ingredients in a dish, put the dish in the microwave…”
“If people do not ride horses, how do they get from one place to another?”
“More machines. Some are called cars. Everyone has at least one. We have trains…have you seen a train?”
Black Wind nodded.
“Well, trains in my time are a lot faster than the ones you’ve seen. And we have airplanes…” Susannah pointed upward. “Airplanes travel across the sky, and can take you hundreds of miles in a short time.”
“Machines that travel through the air?” Tate Sapa shook his head. “That is not possible.”
“But it is. Let’s see, what else is different? Oh, we have telephones that let you speak to someone clear across the country, and computers…” Her voice trailed off. There was no way to explain computers. “In my time, women work.”
“Our women work,” Tate Sapa remarked.
“I don’t mean that kind of work. In my time, women don’t just stay home and look after their children. They hold down jobs. In my time, women are doctors and lawyers and police officers.”
“Who cares for their children?”
“We have places called day care centers that look after their kids.”
“I do not understand. Why do your women have children if they do not want to care for them?”
“Well…” Susannah began, and then stopped. It was a question she had often asked herself. Of course, there were women who worked because they had no other choice, but she knew a lot of women who didn’t have to work to put food on the table or clothes on their backs. They worked because they felt they were missing something by staying at home, as if being a “housewife” was something to be ashamed of. Personally, Susannah couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do. What could be more rewarding that staying home and watching your children grow up? How awful, if some baby-sitter saw her child take its first step, some stranger heard her child’s first word. Of course, she realized that, these days, when everyone was urging women to go out and “find themselves” that her views were definitely out of date. She had always been grateful that her mother didn’t work outside the home, that her mother was there, waiting, when she got home from school.
“It isn’t that they don’t want children,” Susannah said at length. “It’s just that some women like working outside the home. It doesn’t mean they don’t love their children.”
“It seems a strange kind of love to me,” Tate Sapa mused.
For a time, they walked in silence. It was eerie, to be walking across the plains in the dead of night while the earth was asleep. Fluffy white clouds drifted across the sky, playing hide—and-seek wi
th the moon and the stars. Moonlight silvered the grass.
“Do you need to rest?” Tate Sapa asked after a while.
“I think so.”
“We will be there in a few hours,” Tate Sapa remarked. He found a smooth place and indicated Susannah should sit down, then he sat down beside her. Laying his rifle aside, he drew her into his arms. “Rest, Su-san-nah.”
She closed her eyes, grateful for the strong arms around her. Even out here, in the middle of nowhere, he made her feel safe. His love cocooned her, shutting out the rest of the world.
She placed one hand over her belly, smiling as she imagined her child growing there. Would it be a boy, she wondered dreamily, or a girl? She thought of the pictures she had once seen that depicted a fetus in the womb, sucking its thumb, and she was overcome with a sudden surge of love, a need to protect the tiny life growing beneath her heart.
Tate Sapa held her close, his hand lightly massaging her back as he thought of all the strange things she had told him about. Pictures that moved. Machines that flew through the air, cooked food, washed clothes and dishes. It was beyond his comprehension that such things could exist. Yet he had no doubt she was telling him the truth, that she had come to him from the future. How long would she be here, with him, and what would he do if she should go out of his life, if she should return to her own time?
“Su-san-nah?”
She blinked up at him. “Is it time to go?”
“I am afraid so.”
She nodded, then yawned, wishing she could sleep just a little longer.
Tate Sapa helped her to her feet, then took up his rifle. “Ready?”
Susannah forced a smile, determined not to complain.
It was, she decided, the longest walk she had ever made in her life. But, finally, the Micklin place came into view, the house looking like a huge beast crouched in the darkness.
A half-dozen dogs started barking the minute they approached the house. A short time later, a light appeared, then Susannah saw Abe peering out the window.
“It’s me, Mr. Micklin,” Susannah called, shouting to be heard above the incessant barking of the dogs. “Susannah Kingston.”
A short time later, the door swung open and Abe stepped out on the porch, holding a rifle in one hand and a lantern in the other.
“What the hell are you doing prowling around my place in the middle of the night?” he said, his voice as much a growl as that of his hounds.
Susannah spread her hands in a gesture of appeal. “We need a place to spend the night.”
“Agin?” Abe squinted into the darkness. “That Injun with you?”
“Yes.”
“Landsakes, Abe, it’s Susannah.” Hester bustled out onto the porch, pulling a robe on over a voluminous white nightgown. “Come on in, you two.”
Five minutes later, they were all seated at the kitchen table while Hester warmed a pot of coffee.
“So, tell me, what brings you back this way?” Hester asked. She took Susannah’s hand in hers and patted it. “I’ve missed you, child.”
“I missed you too,” Susannah said, and related, as briefly as possible, all that had happened since they had been gone.
Hester shook her head.”Well, I don’t know what to say. A traitor, indeed! I never heard of anything so foolish.”
“I didn’t see no horses out there,” Abe remarked. “How’d you all get here?”
“We walked,” Susannah said. She glanced at Black Wind and smiled. He hadn’t said anything since they entered the house.
“Walked! Landsakes, child, you must be exhausted.”
“I am a little tired,” Susannah admitted, although a little tired didn’t begin to describe how she felt.
“Well, I should think so. Finish your coffee while I get some bedding.”
Abe stared out the window. “Gonna be daylight soon,” he said sourly. “Long as I’m up, I might as well go tend the stock. I’ll leave the lantern in the barn for ya.”
“Thank you, Mr. Micklin.”
“Might as well call me Abe,” he said gruffly. Rising from the table, he clapped his hat on his head and left the house.
Susannah regarded Black Wind over the rim of her cup. “Are you all right?”
Tate Sapa nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, you haven’t said a word. And you seem sort of…distant.”
“I have much on my mind, wastelakapi.”
“I know.” She leaned across the table and took his hand in hers. “Promise me that you won’t leave me.”
“Su-san-nah…”
“Promise me, Tate. If you leave me here, I’ll just follow you.”
“Su-san-nah!”
“Well, I will. You just think about that before you go sneaking off in the middle of the night.”
“I will remember.”
“Say it.”
He grinned at her. “I promise not to leave you.”
“I have your word, as a warrior?”
“Yes, wastelakapi, you have my word, as a warrior and as your husband. I will not leave you.”
“Here you go,” Hester said. “Sheets and blankets. I’m sorry, I don’t have an extra pillow. There’s a nightgown there too. You all get some rest now.”
“Thank you, Hester.”
“Yes, thank you,” Tate Sapa added. “I am sorry I stole from you before.”
“Pshaw, don’t worry about it,” Hester said. “Abe never used that old saddle, and we got lots of blankets. We’re just glad to have you both back safe and sound. Go on, now, get some sleep. Come on up to the house when you wake up, and I’ll have some vittles waitin’. And hot water for a bath,” she muttered, thinking out loud. She glanced at Susannah’s stained tunic and shook her head. “I put those dresses you left behind back in the trunk. I’ll go dig them out later.”
Impulsively, Susannah kissed Hester on the cheek. “Hester, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Landsakes, child, I got a whole passel of clothes I can’t wear no more. You’re welcome to all of them. And hot water don’t cost nothing.”
“Thank you, Hester. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Now, you go on and get some sleep, the both of you.”
Abe had left the lantern in the barn, just as he’d said he would. Susannah quickly made a bed in one of the stalls, wondering, as she did so, if she would ever sleep on a real bed between clean percale sheets again.
Undressing, she pulled the voluminous nightgown over her head, then crawled beneath the covers of the makeshift bed. She was asleep the minute she closed her eyes.
Tate Sapa stood there a moment, watching her, thinking how lovely she was, how much he loved her, and the child she carried.
With a sigh, he stripped off his clothing, stretched out beside her and drew her into his arms. Later, he would decide what to do about returning to his people. For now, he needed rest, needed to have his woman close beside him.
Chapter Twenty
It was as if they had never been gone, Susannah mused that evening. Once again, she was attired in one of Hester Micklin’s calico dresses. The full skirt swished when she moved. It was a pretty dress, a dark-green print with a white lace collar yellowed with age. She had kept her moccasins, finding them more comfortable than the footwear of the day.
Black Wind had spent the day helping Abe clear some ground behind the house. Abe had been reluctant to accept help, but Black Wind had insisted, saying he wanted to do something in return for Abe’s letting them stay. In the end, Abe had given in. Susannah had gone to the window several times during the day, needing to assure herself that Black Wind was still there.
She had spent most of the afternoon helping Hester put up the last of the summer vegetables. It was a long, hot process, yet it had been fun too. Hester had a wry sense of humor and a hundred stories to tell. The men had come in at midday, hot and sweaty. Side by side, they had washed up at the sink, then sat down at the table. They made quite a
pair, Susannah reflected, the old farmer and the young warrior. Under ordinary circumstances, the two of them would never have met.
She hummed softly as she set the table for dinner. She knew that, sooner or later, they would have to decide about returning to the village, but for tonight, she wanted to pretend everything was all right.
At dusk, the men came in and washed up at the sink, then sat down at the table.
Hester had covered the raw plank table with a bright blue cloth. A glass vase held a bunch of bright yellow daisies.
Hester and Susannah dished up the meal, then took their places. Abe glowered at Black Wind, muttered something about heathens at the dinner table, then bowed his head and said grace.
Black Wind watched as Susannah and Hester bowed their heads and, after a moment’s hesitation, did the same.
Abe, as usual, said little during the meal, all his attention apparently focused on eating. Black Wind didn’t have much to say either, leaving Hester and Susannah to fill the void.
Hester talked about the letter she had received from her sister in the East, about adding a room to the house next year, about the latest book she had received by mail order.
“Well, enough about me. How are you, Susannah? You look a might peaked.”
“I’m fine. I’m pregnant.” She hadn’t meant to say anything, but the words fairly flew out of her mouth and she realized how anxious she was to discuss it with another woman.
“Pregnant! Why, that’s wonderful. When’s the baby due?”
“I’m not sure.”
Hester ran an appraising eye over Susannah. “Well, you don’t look to be too far along,” she said, then grinned. “Another few months, and you’ll fill out that old dress of mine. How are you feeling?”
“Fine. A little nauseous in the mornings sometimes.”
“Well, that’s normal enough. A baby! Abe, ain’t that somethin’?”
“Yeah, somethin’. What’s for dessert?”
“Apple pie, love. No, you just sit,” Hester insisted when Susannah started to get up to help. “You need to get plenty of rest.”
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