Frontier Agreement

by Shannon Farrington

  Claire swallowed hard, but her voice did not waver. “I do not wish to dishonor you, uncle, but neither can I dishonor my God.”

  “You cling to your white man’s religion still? Even after what happened to your mother?” He struck her across the face with such force that Claire fell into the mud.

  Claire heard Little Flower gasp but did not look her way. She stood to her feet slowly, straightening to full height, though she kept her chin at a respectful level as she faced her uncle once more. “Beat me if you must,” she said. “But I will never willingly enter into marriage with Golden Hawk. The God of all creation forbids it.”

  At that, Golden Hawk shouted curses at her, claimed he called the spirits against her. She was not frightened. Despite the threats, a peace settled over her.

  “I do not fear your spirits, Golden Hawk,” she said, “nor anything you may seek to do to me.”

  Golden Hawk turned his anger then toward Running Wolf. “She is not worthy of my attention! A curse on you and your lodge!” Snatching the horses’ lead lines from Running Wolf’s hand, he stormed back toward the village.

  Only one horse remained and that was Running Wolf’s. It was laden with blankets, beads and furs and foremost, his bow. Claire recognized at once that her uncle was prepared to go trading—likely intending to sell the extra horses he had intended to acquire. That opportunity was lost now, and he looked like he was strongly considering using the bow on her.

  Her strength faltered. Fear threatened to creep in. Am I to be murdered by my mother’s brother? Is my own cousin to witness the deed?

  Fear, however, wasn’t the prominent emotion washing over her. Regret was. She regretted that she’d not spoken more boldly of the truth of Scripture when she had the opportunity. She regretted that she had not been brave enough to tell Pierre how she actually felt about him. Now he will never know.

  “Trust...”

  Apparently Little Flower had no intention of witnessing a killing. Dropping her basket and sticks, she lifted her buckskin skirt and took off up the hill. Running Wolf called after her, but she did not look back. Claire could hear her crying as she ran.

  Her desertion made Running Wolf all the angrier. “You have cost me much, woman,” he said, spitting the words from his lips. “If you will not bring me the price of a bride then you shall fetch that of a slave. I shall sell you to the Assiniboine tribe. They will teach you the penalty for defying the ways of one’s ancestors.”

  To resist was futile. He would only knock her out and then throw her over the back of his horse. So Claire stood still as he tied a length of sinew about her wrists.

  God will supply my need, she thought.

  Running Wolf dragged her toward his horse. Instead of growing weak with fear, Claire found her body, her voice growing stronger. God was giving her courage.

  “You will do as you must,” she said to her uncle. “But I will never forsake the one true God.”

  “We shall see about that,” Running Wolf said.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Pierre was having a friendly cup of tea with Three Horses and his family when Little Flower suddenly burst through the door. The expression on her face was frantic. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “I have done a terrible thing!” she confessed.

  Just what horrific crime she had committed, Pierre could not determine. Little Flower was speaking so rapidly, so frantically that even One Who Smiles could barely seem to decipher her speech. Pierre was filled with a sickening fear that Claire was somehow involved. He then distinctly heard Golden Hawk’s name.

  Muscles tensing, Pierre’s first instinct was to storm the medicine man’s lodge and drag Golden Hawk out of it by his long, flowing hair, rescue Claire with no thought to the consequences to him or his fellow expedition members. “Bright Star is with Golden Hawk?” he asked, rising to his feet.

  Three Horses must have sensed his plan, for he grasped Pierre by the arm. “It is not the son of the medicine man you seek,” he said. “It is Running Wolf.”

  So she wasn’t about to be wedded, but Pierre was hardly relieved. “Where is he?”

  “South of the village, in the valley of the two hills. Little Flower says he intends to sell Bright Star to the Assiniboine.”

  A fear unlike anything Pierre had ever experienced before gripped him, but instead paralyzing him, it fueled him for action. “Go alert Captain Clark,” Pierre told Black Raven. “He’s visiting your chief.”

  Black Raven raced to find the officer. Pierre headed for the door. He had no musket, but neither did Running Wolf. He had his knife, and although he prayed it would not come to such, he would use it if need be. “I must borrow your horse, friend,” he called out over his shoulder to Three Horses.

  “No,” the warrior replied, coming after him. “We shall take two. I shall ride with you.”

  “Thank you, friend.”

  With Little Flower still crying in One Who Smiles’s arms, the men hurriedly climbed aboard their mounts. They traveled as fast as the muddy ground would allow. Pierre’s heart and thoughts were racing. What he would say to Claire when he saw her was no longer foremost on his mind. What he would say to her uncle was. Three Horses reminded him of the delicate nature of his chase.

  “In this land, a man does not pursue a woman unless he intends to claim her. Are you prepared to do so?”

  “Yes,” Pierre said firmly. “If she’ll have me.”

  “I do not think that will be a problem.”

  The fact that he had no bride price did not deter him. He was prepared to do whatever necessary. God, please...don’t let me be too late...

  They crested the hill. Running Wolf’s horse was already some distance from them. Claire was walking slowly behind. The sight of her tied to her uncle’s horse like a slave filled him with fury. Three Horses recognized it and was prepared to use Pierre’s emotion to their advantage.

  “You go down,” he said. “I will go this way.”

  Pierre realized he intended to cut Running Wolf off from behind, using the distraction of Pierre’s arrival to keep Running Wolf from noticing. Nodding his agreement, Pierre kicked his horse’s flanks and charged down the hill. Reaching the bottom, he thundered with breakneck speed, yelling an angry war cry of his own.

  Running Wolf slowed his mount, turned in Pierre’s direction. He was so focused on the screaming Frenchman approaching that he failed to notice the Mandan warrior gaining ground from behind.

  By the time Pierre was near enough to notice the mud on Claire’s clothing, the bruise already swelling her cheek, Three Horses was descending the hill. But Pierre barely noticed him—all of his attention was directed at the woman before him. If Pierre had any doubts of how Claire would receive him, they vanished instantly.

  Relief flooded her face, that and much more. So she did refuse me because of what I would be asked to give up, he realized, and sighed with relief. Foolish woman. Didn’t she know that the land grant and even the Pacific Ocean were no sacrifices compared to losing her?

  “This is no matter of yours, white man,” Running Wolf said. “Go back to where you come.”

  Mindful of Three Horses’s silent stance and trained arrow, Pierre quickly dismounted. “This is most definitely my concern,” he said. “I love your niece. I have come to claim her as my wife.” He allowed himself one split-second glance at her. Her look fueled his courage.

  Running Wolf sneered at them both. “Why would I give her to a weak white man? You have nothing to offer me. I make better trade with the Assiniboines.”

  “Nothing to offer perhaps but myself,” Pierre said, approaching slowly.

  Claire gasped, realizing what he was saying. “Pierre, no! No!” A look of fright filled her face. She struggled with her bonds.

  “Make me your slave if you must,” he said, “but
let her go free.”

  “You plead like a woman,” Running Wolf said. “Warriors fight.”

  “A true warrior will lay down his life for the one he loves.”

  Running Wolf slid deftly from his horse, drew out his tomahawk. Claire continued to struggle futilely with her ropes.

  “I’ve no wish to fight you,” Pierre said, as Running Wolf crept forward. “I only seek Claire.”

  “Then you are weak,” the warrior said. “And I will kill you easily.”

  “No!” Claire screamed.

  Pierre lifted his knife, but the moment Running Wolf raised his tomahawk, he heard the distinct whoosh of Three Horses’s arrow. On target, it pierced the warrior’s right hand. Shocked, Running Wolf instantly dropped his weapon. Only then did he realize Pierre traveled with an ally. His arrogance had blinded him.

  Wounded but undaunted, Running Wolf snapped the arrow shaft protruding from his bleeding hand and lunged at Pierre. Claire screamed once more. Pierre charged the warrior at his knees, knocking him to the ground. They wrestled and rolled, but in the end Pierre pinned his knife at Running Wolf’s throat. Three Horses had advanced and now stood over Claire’s wounded uncle with his bow drawn.

  Running Wolf’s dark eyes reflected disbelief and fear. “I have no wish to kill you,” Pierre said, “and neither does Three Horses.” He lowered his knife, but for their own safety, the bow remained trained.

  Breathing heavily, heart thudding, Pierre then moved to free Claire from her bonds. She was sitting in the mud. Having done her utmost to push the rope from her hands by way of her feet, her wrists were now raw and bleeding. A bruise the size of her uncle’s fist was taking shape on her right cheek. Pierre had never seen a more heartbreaking sight, and yet never had he seen a more beautiful woman.

  “Pierre, please...” she gasped as he quickly slit the ropes from her wrists. “Do not make yourself a slave on my account.”

  There were tears in her eyes. She was trembling all over. So was he. He gently ran his fingers over her swollen cheek. All he had to clean her wrists was his own handkerchief.

  “In the Bible, Joseph worked for an uncle for years for his beloved Rachael. I am willing to do the same if need be. I will do whatever is necessary, because I love you.”

  Tears were now streaming down her face. “Then your offer of marriage was not made from a sense of duty?”

  “No, it wasn’t. I just didn’t realize it at the time.” His fingers traveled over her jaw, lingered about her neck. “I have loved you for quite a while.”

  She touched his face reverently. Her expression reflected her disbelief and wonder. “And I love you.”

  He smiled, surprised at how much he had wanted to hear those words. “That’s why you refused me at first, wasn’t it? You ranked my happiness above your own, and did not want me to forgo my land grant.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry I grew so angry.”

  “I’m sorry I was so stubborn, but I was afraid if you did not truly care for me, you would regret your decision. The land was important...”

  Sliding his arms about her, he carefully drew her to her feet, held her close. “Ah, Claire, you mean more to me than any piece of land.”

  They were quite a pair. She bruised and muddied, he unshaven and clad in torn elk skin. It was hardly the setting for a man and woman confessing their love, and yet here on the frontier, it suited perfectly.

  But their love for one another was not all that needed to be resolved. Three Horses called out to Pierre, motioned to the top of the hill. Cresting the knoll were Captain Clark, Chief Black Cat and several of his warriors. Taking Claire by the hand, Pierre moved to rejoin Three Horses, who remained standing guard over Running Wolf.

  Claire’s uncle still carried the arrow that had wounded him. Seeing it, Claire quickly took his hand in hers and pushed the arrow through. Using the handkerchief Pierre had given her, she began tending the wound. Running Wolf made no sound, no sign. He simply stared at her in silence.

  Coming upon the scene, Captain Clark immediately frowned at the sight of the wounded man, as did Black Cat, but both men’s faces softened to a look of concern when they noticed Claire’s bruised form.

  Black Cat quickly commanded one of his warriors to assume guard over Running Wolf while Three Horses was told to explain. Captain Clark demanded the same of Pierre.

  “Her life was in danger, sir. I could not see her sold to another tribe.”

  “I’m glad for that, Lafayette,” Clark said. “I’d expect no less from a man of your caliber, but what are you prepared to do now? You know Captain Lewis will not change his mind about taking her west.”

  “Yes, sir. I know that. What I will do now will depend on Chief Back Cat.” He asked Three Horses to explain his intentions to the chief.

  Saint Louis was no longer an option. Pierre was now as reluctant to leave this place as Claire. The village, and particularly her family, needed to be brought to the Lord—and he thought that now, they might actually have a chance. He’d seen the flicker of relief in Running Wolf’s eyes when he’d told him that he had no wish to kill him, followed by the confused but appreciative look when Claire tended to his hand. Could the man finally understand what their faith was really all about? They wielded a weapon, it was true, but that weapon was love.

  With his eagle feather swaying gently in the breeze, the great dignified chief continued to listen to Three Horses’s explanation, with the translation whispered to him by Claire.

  “He wishes to remain in our village, oh great one. He has no bride price to offer but will offer himself as a slave to secure my freedom.”

  Black Cat was silent for several seconds. Pierre heard the pounding of his own heart in his ears. What would the man say?

  At last, the chief spoke slowly, resolutely. “Slave...peace...bride...”

  Pierre held his breath, waiting for the full translation. When it came, Claire’s eyes held a hint of mirth.

  “The Chief says you are welcome in the village, not as a slave but as an honored guest because you wish for peace among the white men and the Mandan.”

  Pierre’s heart quickened. “And you?”

  “The Chief says Running Wolf forfeited the bride price by damaging my face. He no longer has authority over me. I now belong to you.”

  Not quite, he thought. I belong to you.

  Pierre nodded graciously to the chief, thanked him. “What will happen to Running Wolf?” he then asked.

  “Whatever you wish,” Claire said. “You defeated him in battle, yet you spared his life. You now have authority over him.”

  The temptation to exact revenge, not for himself but for Claire, snaked through Pierre’s mind for the briefest of seconds, but he knew that was not the way.

  “I wish for him to go in peace,” Pierre said. “I wish for him to leave me, my bride and all those around us in peace.”

  Chief Black Cat nodded his approval. “Then it shall be so.”

  Feeling ten feet tall and capable of wrestling a bear to the ground, Pierre then turned and looked at Claire. Her eyes were downcast with the modesty of a proper young maiden, but Pierre noticed she was smiling from ear to ear.

  * * *

  Claire could not stop trembling, but not from fear. She was overwhelmed by pure and utter joy. In a matter of moments, she had gone from being a potential slave to a fiancée, and her betrothed was not only the mightiest, wisest warrior in the village but also the man she loved. He was a man of faith, honor and compassion.

  The marriage she had long dreamed of, and prayed for, was at last to take place. God had given her a man who loved her, a man who would care for her and for those most dear to her for all of his days. Her mother had been right. God had supplied her needs.

  Her chief had sanctioned the match, and Captain Clark
approved of it, as well. “It will be a good thing to build a family here,” he told Pierre. “You will serve as an example of cooperation and mutual respect to all those who pass this way.”

  Only Running Wolf’s eyes held doubt. Claire had watched him carefully as she tended his wound. Her uncle knew Three Horses could have shot him through the heart, but he had chosen not to do so. Just as Pierre chose not to take advantage of him with his knife.

  “Jesus tells us to be merciful to our enemies,” she had whispered.

  She had dressed the wound as best she could, using the handkerchief Pierre had given her and a piece of the sinew that had previously bound her. When the treating was done, Pierre offered his hand to assist Running Wolf to his feet. Her uncle eyed Pierre still with suspicion but accepted his help.

  His arrows now at rest in his quiver, Three Horses along with Black Cat and his entourage took Running Wolf back to the village.

  As well as things had gone, however, Pierre still had regrets. “If only I had claimed you sooner,” he said, “this could have been avoided.”

  Claire did not begrudge the time. She looked him full in the face. “If you had, Running Wolf would not have been ready to listen.”

  “You think he is?”

  “Perhaps,” she said. “I have hope.”

  “As do I.”

  He touched her face gently. Her cheek ached, but she welcomed his caress. She had wished for it for so long.

  “How did you know where to find me?” she asked.

  “Your cousin. She came to Three Horses’s lodge.”

  “Little Flower?

  Pierre nodded. “I had come to see you, to speak with you, when she burst in, confessing her betrayal. She was quite distraught. One Who Smiles is tending her.”

  “Then she is in good hands,” Claire said. “I have hope for her, as well.”

  “So do I...”

  He leaned toward her, ready to claim his first and rightful kiss. Claire eagerly lifted her face to him.