Frontier Agreement

by Shannon Farrington

  What did the drums mean? Was trouble brewing? Did the sound come from outside the village or within it?

  He thought of informing the captain, but just then a cry came from inside the lodge. He’d once heard Indian women were taught to make no sound when giving birth. If that was true and One Who Smiles was breaking that rule, then she must have a very good reason for doing so. The captain could not be disturbed.

  Three Horses turned a worried eye toward the lodge. Pierre tried to distract him. Using signs and his limited Mandan vocabulary, he inquired of the drums. The man offered a disgusted look and answered in a tone much the same. Black Raven translated his father’s remark. He had apparently learned a little French.

  “Drums for death,” the boy said.

  The hair on the back of Pierre’s neck stood up. “Whose death?”

  “My mother. Tribe expect no live.”

  That’s the work of the midwives, Pierre supposed. So they had truly given up on the poor woman. Well, he would not, and apparently Three Horses wasn’t about to do so, either. He shook his head adamantly.

  “Tell your father that Christ is more powerful than the spirits,” Pierre said. “That He alone holds the keys to life and death.”

  Black Raven repeated the words. At first Pierre wasn’t certain if the man understood, but then Three Horses pointed to Pierre, and he pointed to the sky. Next the warrior raised his arms heavenward and lifted his voice in a native cry. It was plaintive but not unnerving. Pierre recognized it for what it was, a man in anguish pouring out his soul to the Creator.

  “He pray to this Christ,” Black Raven explained. “Asks you to do same.”

  “It would be my honor,” Pierre said.

  And there in the midst of the earthen huts and cooking fires, one man danced and called out, the other bowed his head in reverent silence, but Pierre was certain the Savior heard them both just the same.

  * * *

  Claire cried tears of joy when a writhing, dark-haired baby boy was laid at last upon his mother’s breast. His face was a bit bruised by his prolonged and rather traumatic entry into the world, and his cry was somewhat kitten-like for the moment, but Claire was confident he would gain strength. Overall he appeared healthy.

  Though exhausted, One Who Smiles exerted what little of her strength remained to count her infant’s fingers and toes and then whisper her thanks to the captain, to Claire and to God Almighty.

  Lewis smiled as he wiped his hands on a piece of cloth. He then looked at Claire. “She’ll need nourishment.”

  Claire nodded. “I prepared a broth.”

  “Good. Fetch it while I better examine the child.”

  Claire moved at once to the fire, gathered a bowl of warm liquid and then returned to her friend.

  “Our God is good,” One Who Smiles said.

  “Indeed,” Claire replied. “Here, drink this and then I shall tell Three Horses the momentous news...that he now has two sons.”

  Tears trickled down One Who Smiles’s face, but Claire knew they were tears of joy. When the broth had been sufficiently drained from the bowl, Claire walked to the door. Bright afternoon sunlight stung her eyes, but the cold air was invigorating. She drew in a deep breath. Never before had she been so scared, or prayed so fervently for assistance, and never before had she felt such joy when God answered her prayer.

  A new life has entered this village. Despite the midwives’ dire predictions, my Christian sister has survived. Thank You, God! Thank You!

  She was certain she hadn’t been the only one praying. Pierre was doing so, as well.

  She found him along the side of the lodge with Three Horses and Black Raven. The men were sitting cross-legged on the snow-packed ground, speaking to one another with signs and limited vocabulary. Her heart leaped at the sight of such obvious friendship and respect.

  Black Raven saw her first. He excitedly tapped his father’s knee. Surely he could tell by her expression that all was well. Pierre stood immediately and brushed the snow from his trousers. Three Horses remained seated, but as soon as Claire delivered the news, he jumped to his feet with a shout. What followed then surprised her beyond words.

  Three Horses lifted a prayer of thanks, not to his ancestors but to the Creator and sustainer of life. Claire’s jaw dropped when she heard the name of Jesus on the warrior’s lips.

  Pierre simply grinned.

  Having finished his song of thanks, Three Horses came to her and laid his hands upon her shoulders, just like an elder would do when bestowing a blessing on a younger member of the tribe. “The other women went away,” he said. “but you did not leave my wife. Your God will be my God.”

  Tears filled Claire’s eyes, blurring her vision. She had done nothing to convince this man of the truth. She had simply cared for her friend in her time of need, and to think that God had somehow used her to assist the birth of one soul into the world and one soul into His kingdom...it was overwhelming indeed.

  “You give me great honor,” she said.

  With the smile only a proud father could offer, Three Horses then moved toward the lodge. His oldest son scampered happily beside him.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” Pierre said as he came up beside her. “Are we not taught to believe that God answers prayer?”

  “Indeed.” She laughed joyfully, heartily. She couldn’t help herself. He did, too.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for everything you did.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “But you did. You kept company with Three Horses and Black Raven and you prayed.”

  He flushed slightly as if embarrassed by her praise. “It was my privilege.”

  Only then did she realize that he had once again shaved his beard and trimmed his curls. He was so handsome. Claire had the sudden desire to let her fingers trace his strong jaw, linger over the cleft of his chin. She didn’t dare do so. Such behavior was unseemly for any maiden, French or Indian.

  “What will they name the child?” he asked.

  “I do not know. In our culture, children are not given their names until ten days after birth. It is part of an official naming ceremony.”

  “I see.” He paused, rubbed his clean-shaven chin.

  “You must be cold,” she said.

  He chuckled slightly. “I am.”

  “Come with me,” she said. “I know where there is a warm fire.” Fearing that the invitation had sounded utterly improper, she quickly explained, “I need to look in on my mother for a moment before I return to assist One Who Smiles further. Will you come with me? She would enjoy your company.” Then she added, “Running Wolf is not here. He has gone hunting and will not be back until the morrow.”

  “Well, in that case,” he said. Then, as if he were to escort her across a ballroom floor, he offered his arm. “Shall we?”

  Claire stifled a giggle as she laid hold of his sleeve. She was so happy. She couldn’t resist replying in the same manner. “You are most kind, dear sir.”

  With a shared laugh, they tramped through the snow.

  * * *

  Pierre’s mood changed the moment he entered Claire’s lodge. It wasn’t because he was stepping into the domain without Running Wolf’s permission to do so. He had been invited, and the presence of Little Flower and her children assured propriety. What troubled him was the sight of Evening Sky. Pierre had not seen her for several weeks, and the change in her constitution was deeply disconcerting.

  She was lying on her pallet. Her face, arms and legs had withered away, but her abdomen was abnormally large for someone so thin. Her coloring was a sickly shade of pale, enough to tell Pierre that despite persistent prayers, the woman’s time was drawing nigh.

  Did Claire not see it? Had the change been so slight each day that she simply failed to notice the signs?
Or did she not wish to see them?

  Evening Sky welcomed him with a tired but contented smile, like the look of a weary traveler who had at last reached his final destination. Pierre took her frail hand in his, kissed it gently.

  Kneeling beside him, Claire excitedly told her mother all that had transpired with One Who Smiles and Three Horses.

  “You have done well, Bright Star. God has answered our prayers,” she said. A pale bluish tinge colored her lips. She looked back at Pierre, indicated she wished to take his hand once more. Pierre noted that her fingertips held the same bluish tint.

  Her hands were ice-cold, but it wasn’t for lack of heat. Claire had laid another buffalo skin over her mother when she had arrived, and in the center of the lodge, Little Flower stoked a roaring fire. It was so warm that Pierre was perspiring.

  “God has brought healing,” Evening Sky said to him.

  Pierre’s throat constricted, for he understood the message she was delivering. Bodily healing for her was not to be. She knew that. But she also saw that God was working in matters of the heart. Three Horses and One Who Smiles were the evidence.

  “We must remember that,” she said as she gave his hand a feeble squeeze. He recognized the second message. Claire would have trouble accepting that. Her mother wanted him to help her.

  Pierre’s throat further tightened, but he managed a dutiful nod. In few words, Evening Sky had said much. She had honored him by giving Pierre this charge. There was much he wanted to say to her, but he kept it back. Claire still apparently failed to grasp what was happening. He sensed Evening Sky wanted it that way. Perhaps it was a tribal custom when approaching death to speak of it as little as possible.

  If it was, he must disobey, but he would do so delicately.

  Evening Sky told her daughter she should return to Three Horses’s lodge to look after the mother and newborn child. “You are needed there,” she said. “There you can do much good.”

  Claire hesitated, but after Evening’s Sky’s gentle insistence, she bent to kiss her mother’s cheek and then stood. Pierre pushed to his feet, as well.

  “I think you should stay,” he whispered to Claire in English.

  She blinked, looked at her mother, and then looked back at him. He saw the questions in her eyes. Pain pierced his heart, for he knew what was coming for her.

  “But mother said...the baby—”

  He stopped her with an upturned hand. He knew the newborn and recently delivered mother needed continued care, but despite Evening Sky’s charge, Pierre did not believe Claire was the one to provide it. At least, not right now.

  He turned to her cousin. “Will you go to One Who Smiles?” he asked Little Flower in Mandan. “Help mother and child?”

  Little Flower looked somewhat surprised, then fearful, but it was no match for the expression that now filled Claire’s face. Her lovely bronzed skin drained white. She knew full well Pierre would not ask her cousin to assist a woman the midwives had shunned were it not absolutely necessary.

  “Please,” Pierre said to Little Flower.

  The woman looked back at Evening Sky, then Claire. She nodded.

  “Thank you,” he said, “and please...tell Captain Lewis where I am.”

  She nodded once more. Then, grabbing her buffalo robe, she threw it over her shoulders and hurried outside.

  When she had gone, Pierre turned back to Claire. She was standing stone still. The joy of new life was no longer in her eyes. Tears now filled them. One soul had come into the world. Another was about to depart. Such was life out on the frontier.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Pierre moved to take her hand, draw her close, but Claire resisted. She could not accept his comfort. If she did, she knew she would give in fully to her tears. And I cannot do so. The time is short. I have to remain strong.

  He must have recognized her need to maintain her composure, for when she pulled away, he offered neither apologies nor words of condolence. He simply followed her back to her mother’s pallet and took up post a few paces behind her. Evidently he wanted to give her privacy, but he also wanted her to know he was near if she needed him. Claire appreciated that more than he could possibly know, and once again she fought the urge to seek the shelter of his embrace.

  Kneeling, she took her mother’s hand. Evening Sky’s eyes reflected a measure of joy and sorrow.

  “You should have gone to One Who Smiles,” she whispered, but her expression told Claire she was glad she had not.

  “My duty is to you,” she said.

  The older woman shook her head. “No. Your duty is to God. Follow His path, always. Although sometimes the way will seem very dark, you will eventually come again into the light.”

  At that, Claire broke down. There was so much darkness. Her father’s passing, her mother’s struggle, her uncle’s superstitious fear. Why couldn’t God simply bring that light now? He could. She knew He could. Why couldn’t He simply banish darkness, despair, pain and death now? Why must they wait?

  But she did not ask because she knew the answer. With the exception of Three Horses and his family, her entire village still needed Christ. There was still love to be shared. Her mother’s work was done, but Claire still had tasks to complete. And they overwhelmed her.

  God, I cannot do this alone. Help me.

  Evening Sky squeezed her daughter’s hand. A loving mother knows her child’s thoughts and fears, no matter how old that child has become. “God will provide for all of your needs,” she whispered.

  Needs, Claire thought. There are so many. Not just spiritual matters, but regular earthly chores, as well. There were so many ordinary tasks to undertake even now, tonight, at the lodge. With Little Flower absent from the dwelling, there was snow water to be gathered. There were children to feed.

  It was then she realized she smelled the aroma of stew. Claire turned to find Spotted Eagle busy stirring a pot at the fire and Pierre seating River Song and the rest of the children near him. Claire watched as Pierre then doled out a bowl full of liquid to each of them.

  The two were doing women’s work, but neither seemed to think it beneath his dignity. How Pierre had managed Spotted Eagle’s cooperation, especially given his attitude of late, she did not know, but she was thankful for it.

  When Pierre looked up, caught her eye, she offered him a smile. He nodded, then said to Spotted Eagle, “Watch the others and I’ll gather more snow.”

  Spotted Eagle nodded as if he had been given an honored charge.

  “The children are in good hands,” Evening Sky whispered.

  “Indeed,” Claire replied.

  “You are in good hands, as well.”

  Captain Lewis arrived sometime later along with Chief Black Cat. It would have been unseemly for the chief to be waited on by a man, and when Claire whispered such to Pierre, he quickly took his place at the fire with the other men. Claire served the broth, then gathered the children around her.

  “You have acted most bravely, taking on a role that is not your own,” she whispered to Spotted Eagle.

  “The white man said my hands could honor Great Aunt by doing so,” the boy said, “and I wished to pay such honor because I have acted dishonorably toward her.”

  Claire knew Pierre would not have condemned the child for his earlier rudeness to Evening Sky. After all, the boy had only been following his grandfather’s command, but clearly Spotted Eagle’s conscience had been pricked.

  “Your great aunt holds no anger toward you,” Claire assured him. “She forgives you. She did so even before you realized you had done wrong.”

  He looked at Claire with dark, inquisitive eyes. “Do you forgive me?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she replied, giving him a squeeze. “If the Great Spirit forgives me of my wrongs, how can I not do the same for others?”


  Spotted Eagle smiled, then turned his attention back toward the guests. “Our chief thinks highly of Great Aunt.”

  “Indeed.”

  It was a high honor for a chief to visit Evening Sky on her deathbed, an honor usually only bestowed upon warriors and medicine men.

  Perhaps Black Cat had come only because the captain had done so, but given what Claire had witnessed, with his willingness to distribute meat to those in need first, she wondered again if it was possible that he was being drawn toward the teaching of Christ. He had never actually been hostile to such. His utmost goal seemed to be preserving peace and safety for his people.

  Black Cat offered no spirit blessing as he would have done for a warrior, but he did lay his hand upon Evening Sky’s forehead and wish her peace on her journey before leaving the lodge.

  Captain Lewis remained a little longer. Claire left her place with the children and returned to her mother’s side.

  Lewis asked if there was anything he might do for her. “Perhaps alleviate the pain?” he offered.

  “I am beyond pain now,” Evening Sky told him. She then asked of Three Horses’s son.

  “He is well,” the captain said, “and so is his mother.”

  Evening Sky smiled. Although it was weak, Claire could tell she was content. Once again she took her mother’s hand. It was much colder now. Claire swallowed back her emotions as Captain Lewis took his leave. To Claire’s surprise, he had granted Pierre permission to stay. She was glad he did. She needed his quiet presence, even if she could not fully explain to him why. As if sensing so, he laid his hand upon her shoulder for a moment, then returned to the children.

  Twilight gave way to darkness. Darkness to the coming of a new day. Claire could tell the changes by the smoke hole in the center of the roof. The pale pink streaks of dawn now colored the sky.

  The children slept soundly and Evening Sky held on. “You remember the hymn your father used to sing to us?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.