by Rita Hestand
"Well, thank God he was there for you! I am a little shocked and quite proud of Dakota for taking care of you and seeing you home too. He's quite a man, isn't he?" Ma nodded her head as though totally rethinking the man.
"Yes, he is." Maggie agreed. "Ma, he could have taken advantage of me. He could have called me a whore for bathing in the nude. He could have insinuated I was seducing that man. He didn't. He was a real gentleman. How do you thank someone like that?"
"Then I am proud of him!" Ma grinned.
"So I guess no more creek baths. But I so enjoy going out there early and getting a bath and enjoying the sunrise. I guess I can't do that anymore. You know, I'm not sure the price of fame is too high."
"No, honey, I don't think that would be wise going to the creek." Ma studied on ti a moment. "And the fame, well, it does have a price and you've just experienced that."
"I think I'm falling in love with him Ma, but…he doesn't seem to have a clue. He's just doing his job, and very well I might add." Maggie sighed with frustration.
"Well dear, despite the fact that you see no cultural barriers. I think he must. Because you are a handful of woman, and no man could resist you buck naked, unless it was something else holding him back."
"He's such a gentleman. I trust him Ma. I trust him with my life. He knew I needed to cry. He knew I needed him."
"I know you do child. And trust is a good thing. Just let nature take its course. If it's meant to be, it will happen. And if it's not, it won't." Ma cautioned.
"You are right, of course. It's just, he acted so…heroic today."
"It's hard not to love a hero, isn't it?"
"Yes!" She cried.
"You know what's funny?" Ma asked with a whimsical lilt to her voice.
"What's that?"
"I used to love to skinny-dip in the creeks. It was invigorating."
"Why Ma, I'd have never guessed it of you."
"Oh why shore. You are right, it is a treat to go out there before dawn and just jump in watch all the colors of sunrise. Listen to the birds sing."
Maggie chuckled, and her sadness began to fade away. Ma always knew how to make things better. The two people she treasured in the world most was Ma and Dakota.
"You think I'll ever get married, Ma?" Maggie asked.
"Sure you will, of all the girls, I'd have expected you to get married first." Ma chuckled. "Never thought you'd hold out this long, but I still got hopes."
"I hope so, Ma. I hope so someday." Maggie sighed and sipped her coffee.
Chapter Seven
Days went by and Maggie practiced every day, Simon was always coming up with new songs he'd found, or created himself and Maggie was glad to try them out. Some were not for her, because of the voice range, others were practically made for her. They worked well together.
Simone had gotten to where he could pick out the ones she'd be great with so they practiced with those. There was one she favored and Dakota seemed to be listening to it too, as though maybe he enjoyed it.
Every day Dakota stood in the sidelines, watching. Never once did he bring up the incident at the creek. Maggie respected that.
One evening as Simon rapped up his music and started to leave he started talking to Dakota.
He put his things down for a moment and looked at Dakota with interest.
"You know, Dakota, you do a good job of seeing after Miss Hilton. And I'm sure it isn't always easy. What say you and I go have a drink after tomorrow's practice?"
"I will go with you." Dakota smiled.
"Good." Simon nodded and left.
Maggie glanced around the theater. It was dark and Maggie seemed a little nervous.
"Something wrong?"
"No," She tried to shrug the eerie feeling away and couldn't. "I don't know. This place, when it's dark, it's a little spooky." She shivered. "I've been here enough, it shouldn't spook me, but there are just so many shadows in here when the lights go out on the stage."
A noise behind the curtain had her practically falling into Dakota's arms. He caught her to him. When a cat jumped from the stage she sighed heavily.
"No need to be afraid." He told her softly, pulling her chin up and seeing a real fear there. His touch was so gentle. His look galvanized her. Her heart fluttered. "That's Skeeter."
"I'm sorry," she pulled away abruptly, then looked into his dark eyes, "I didn't get much sleep last night, and that's probably why I'm so jumpy. I mean. I know you will protect me. I feel very safe when you are around, at least most of the time."
"The theater is a dark place. But while you sing, I walk around and go behind the stage, and all around this floor of the building, to make sure there is no one or nothing lurking about. I would know if there was anyone about. I could hear them."
"Is it true?" She asked out of the blue.
"What?"
"That Indians can hear so well."
"Only because we are more aware of what we hear."
She walked to the doorway, and glanced up.
"What's on the upper floors?" She asked curiously. "I've never been up there."
"Some old dressing rooms, storage areas. Things like that." He explained coming up behind him.
"Do you go up there very often?"
"I have a room up there." He told her. "Mr. Montgomery gave it to me. I told him I usually sleep outside, but he insisted I needed a place of my own."
"A room? I didn't know. You said you slept under the stars."
"I don't sleep there often, but I can rest or eat or relax there."
"That's…nice." She smiled.
"The cat, belongs to me," He told her. "I usually keep her in the room."
"You enjoy animals, then?" She asked.
"Yes, cats, dogs, sheep, horses, whatever." He smiled.
"I had a dog once when I was young." She smiled in reflection. Her expression changed, softening her features. "He used to go with me everywhere."
"What happened to him?" Dakota moved about now, as though restless.
"My father shot him." Her smile quickly faded.
His glance scrutinized her now, as though what she had just said was very important, a key to Maggie Hilton.
"Why?" Dakota's face screwed up in a frown.
"Duke, that was his name, I dubbed him a Duke. He didn't like other people much and if anyone ever came too close, he'd bite them. He hated my father."
"Did your father bother you in some way. The animal must not have trusted him for some reason."
"My father bothered me, a lot. Duke nearly bit his hand off one time. Not long afterward, Duke was killed in the forest one day while I was at school. I cried for a week. I always felt so protected around him. When he died, I became scared of things a lot."
His hooded gaze was centered on her.
"Sometimes that fear comes out of me, like tonight." Maggie knew her fears better than anyone. She knew why Duke didn't like her father, why she didn't like him. And because of him, she had so many little fears that sometimes got the best of her. She never told anyone about her family much. She couldn't. She buried it deep within her and didn't want to ever think of it again. No, she wouldn't be going home, ever!
"What did you fear?" He asked, trying to put her words together.
"It doesn't matter, but Duke took care of me." She smiled. "I sure did miss him, when he died. I buried him in our yard, out back, and I put flowers on his grave for years."
"He was a protector. Much like I?" He asked. "And If I die, will you put flowers on my grave too?"
She smiled, "Yes, I will." She said simply glancing at him again. "But I won't let you die!" She chuckled.
He stared for a moment. "I believe that!"
When she grew quiet he peered through his long lashes at her.
"You do not talk much about who you were, where you came from. Not like most white women." He studied her. "Were you a happy child? Did you play with dolls and sing songs?"
"No, but I'm happy now!" She smiled and started to walk a
way. "I learn to make myself happy."
The abrupt way she changed the subject must have warned him not to ask more questions.
"Do you have a ride home?" His expression carried some concern and she hoped he wouldn't press her on her childhood. She didn't want to talk about it.
"No…" She hesitated. "Want to walk me home."
"Of course," he smiled.
She took his arm. Immediately warmth spread through her. Her confidence boosted, she felt light as air as they walked.
"The Mayor does not call for you anymore, is there a reason?"
"I asked him not to." She said plainly.
"I do not mean to pry. It was just an observation." He added. "If he courted you regular, then I would know not to bother him when he is near. It would be to your best interest if you told me who you are seeing and when, that way, my job will be easier."
"I'm not seeing anyone right now." She smiled up at him. "Except maybe you."
"That is different…I am your bodyguard."
"Is that what you are?" She asked with a teasing glance. "I thought maybe…you were my friend." She said in a whisper.
He covered her hand with his now. She closed her eyes and enjoyed it.
He changed the subject. "I liked that song you sang last tonight, what was it, Shenandoah?" He asked.
"Yes, it's beautiful. I love it." She relaxed now.
"I have heard this song, and its story. It tells of an Oskanondonha Iroquois pine tree chief, he was known as John Shenandoah, and he lived in New York. But they say fur traders coming down the Missouri River made up that song. Fur traders often married Indian woman since they seldom were around the white women. They suffered through many cold and lonely winters without wives."
"You're very knowledgeable, Dakota, how come. You didn't get that at Missionary school." She stared at him.
"No, I read the paper all the time and books that people give me. I once even worked on a river boat for a short while, and you learn a lot on one of them. So many different people ride the boats, from many different places."
"You've led a very interesting life," she murmured, staring a little too long. His eyes sparkled in the pale moonlight. "All I do is sing."
"I could listen to that song every night it is so beautiful." He said softly.
"Well then, I'll have to sing it for you, someday, special."
"I would like that." He stopped for they were close to the back porch and he stared down at her. There were no words between them now, only glances.
They arrived at the back door of the boarding house too quickly and she sighed heavily. She didn't want to say goodnight. She felt so alive when she was with him. And tonight he seemed to let some of his defenses down. They had shared a little of themselves and brought their relationship closer by doing so. She felt instinctively she could tell Dakota anything and it would not be repeated.
"Would you like to come in? I could fix you a cup of coffee if you want."
"No, I will see you tomorrow." He promised.
"Dakota" she called to him as he would have walked away, "You know so much about me, but I know nothing of you. You don't talk about yourself much. I'd like to get to know you better."
"Didn't figure anyone was interested." He smiled down into her eyes.
"I'm interested." She said staring into his dark eyes. "Well now, tell me, do you have a wife, or girl somewhere?" She asked. "Children maybe?"
"No…" He murmured.
"I just asked because if you did she might be jealous of you following me around and walking me home every night."
"Is that why you asked?" He smiled down into her face in the moonlight as though he already knew the answer.
"No," she barely uttered. When he said nothing she went on. Maggie couldn't lie to him. It wasn't her nature to lie.
"You seem— lonely at times. Why are you not with your tribe?"
"I have been away a long time. I have learned much of the white man's world. I no longer fit with my people, but I go every winter and stay with them. It is much different now. There is but a few and they cling to the old ways. They're resistant to change is a problem. That is why they won't stay on a reservation. I do not fit them anymore. But I still respect them. And they tolerate me."
"Of course. Why, if you don't fit, do you go back to them?"
"Because they are my people and I do not want to lose them forever. It is like going home to visit family. You do this, do you not?"
"No, I don't go home anymore." She said staunchly.
"Then you are lonely too." He acknowledged. "Someday, maybe you can tell me why you don't go back."
"Someday!"
"What tribe are you from?"
"My mother was Arapaho, my father Cheyenne."
"How interesting. Do tribes often mix?"
"Only when one is traded to another. My mother was captured by my father. He thought her most beautiful, but very stubborn, but she made him laugh."
"How romantic." She gushed.
She smiled up at him and on instinct, she tip-toed to kiss his cheek. He turned though with surprise and their lips met. It was a deliberate move on her part. She wondered if it was on his too. She wanted to feel his lips on hers once more. She wanted to see if it was as good as she remembered. She didn't know if he would kiss her, because of his job. She had to take the chance. He pulled her into the shadows, she didn't resist.
He stared down into her eyes, as though asking permission. She sighed when his lips met hers tentatively. It was a sweet and powerful as any dream she had had. His lips feathered hers at first, hesitating to take them fully, and she worried that he would back away too quickly. But he didn't back away, he kept teasing her lips until he could no longer stand it and kissed her softly. She moaned little whimpers in her throat. His big powerful arms wrapped around her and pulled her solidly against him. His lips explored hers, plundering past her lips to her tongue where he waltzed slowly with hers. He took his time, reveling in the submission of her butter soft lips. It was a kiss of a lover, not just a friend. She knew the difference and reveled in it. It inspired her confidence, warmed her like a slow fire on a cold day. The beat of her heart drummed in her ears.
There was a certain earthy smell about him that intoxicated her senses. A delightful sense of wanting ran through her, but she stifled it with the knowledge that there would be another time, another place. His hand reached to stroke her cheek lightly, and his eyes lit as she cuddled into that touch. As though she made love to that touch. Her eyes sparkled into his. She swallowed hard, waiting until her heart beat quieted. It took a while and for a moment, time just simply stood still. She leaned against the back of the house, gathering her senses about her, steadying herself for composure. They stared with longing. She knew it was mutual.
When he pulled away, and let her go, she licked her lips. He stared at her lips and the rest of her. It was the way he looked, as though possessing her. She didn't mind.
"Goodnight, Dakota!" She barely breathed his name. "Thank you for walking me home."
A slight smile curled his lips. "Goodnight…" He sighed and faded into the dark once more.
As she went inside she couldn't wipe the whimsical look on her face away. It was just too magical to describe. But Ma saw her and knew.
"That good huh?" She smiled at her.
"Yes ma'am, it was." She walked slowly up the stairs, but paused mid-way, "Goodnight Ma."
"Night honey." Ma chuckled.
She didn't know he waited outside until her light went on upstairs before he walked away. It was habit, he wouldn't leave her until he knew she was safe.
She lay across her bed for a while, drinking in the kiss she enjoyed so much. She didn't understand where all this was going or if it would go anywhere, but after tonight, she was fairly certain that Dakota had feelings for her too. Otherwise he would never have allowed that kiss.
Chapter Eight
After that night, Maggie settled into a comfortable relationship with Dakota,
slowly getting to know him. She learned that his father had died in a skirmish, his mother had taken sick with the white man's disease, small pox. That he visited his Uncle and Aunt there during the winter and that they tried to marry him off to every Indian maiden that a came along, trying to reunite the family bond.
She wondered why some maiden hadn't taken his interest. What was he looking for?
Simon, Dakota and she had taken a picnic one day together and the three of them had a wonderful time talking of things.
"Are you married Simon?" Maggie asked boldly as Dakota sat beside Simon.
"I never married. Came close a time or two, but I moved about so much. Just didn't work out." Simon hung his head. "I get lonely every now and then, but I just cozy up to a saloon gal for the night and the loneliness goes away.
"That's a shame," Maggie smiled at him, seeing the loneliness inside the man and wishing she could help him. "That you haven't found someone special for you."
"Aren't you one of those mail-order-brides?" Simon asked after a bit.
"Yes, I am. Only I haven't married anyone yet." She sighed and glanced at Dakota. "Marriage is an important step, and I don't want to jump into something that won't last."
"It's none of my business, but what happened to you and the Mayor. I heard he was sweet on you." Simon blurted without thinking.
Dakota relaxed, and watched her reaction to that question.
Maggie scrunched up her nose. "He's too uppity for me. And the parties he took me to, were so boring. I tried to like him, but he's just not for me. He's very ambitious so everything he does is about his next election. I don't want to live like that. I don't want to be a host for a man. I want to be his woman."
"You came in the early spring, it's September now, you better hurry up and find you a man. Don't you have to go back home if you don't find one?"
"Yes, or go into the saloon here. That doesn't appeal to me." She sighed with resignation.
But Simon was sitting by a rock and suddenly Maggie's eyes got bigger than a saucer as a rattler came out just below his elbow. She gasped aloud. Dakota sprang into action. It was Dakota's knife that killed the snake, severing its head. Simon had been bit and Dakota rushed to take care of him. He took out his knife and cut away a piece of his arm, then wrapped it. Then he proceeded to carry him physically back to town to the doctor as their buggy and horse had run off at the sound of the rattler.
