Shalee was only too conscious of the lengthy passage of time since Leah had declared herself pregnant. Could it be true after all? Had Leah told the truth just once? Since the women bathed together, it was clear to her probing eyes that Leah’s time had not come yet….
Leah was also cognizant of this curious situation, aware and relieved. There had been no brief moment to attempt escape yet. She had hoped to sneak away while everyone was busy and distracted. But she had been carefully watched at every turn, no doubt on Shalee’s orders! Shalee… it was obvious Shalee had tricked her into a confession by terrorizing her. Why had she weakened? What if she were pregnant? How would that change matters for her?
Leah’s back ached from the arduous labor, as did Shalee’s. Often each caught the other’s probing eyes upon her. A silent clash would result until one or the other looked away. If only the old chief would leave camp and grant her some respite from his intimidating glare! Her nerves were as taut as his bowstring from this constant observation as they eagerly anticipated her downfall. Her hands trembled. How much longer could she endure this maddening period?
Another matter also occupied Leah’s concentration. How could she discover the facts behind that strange conversation between Shalee and Gray Eagle that eventful night? Something terrible had taken place between them long ago, something she needed to explore. They had actually alluded to meeting as enemies! How had he captured and enslaved an Indian Princess, mistaken her for a white thrall? What horrible events took place before the truth was revealed? Had the noble Eagle been forced to marry Shalee after such vile treatment, possibly brutality and rape? Were there suppressed feelings of hostility to be craftily brought to the surface? Very odd indeed…
Shortly before dusk, the chores were put away for the day and the evening meal was served. In spite of their fatigue, many laughed and chatted as they relaxed. Shalee leaned against a tree near the edge of the stream, relishing this serene location and time of day. The birds were gradually quietening and settling down for the night. Vital leaves rustled softly above her head, almost too softly to be heard. A gurgle was heard from the nearby stream as the water swirled around rocks or debris. The sky was muting its lovely periwinkle shade to lively grays and the vibrant colors of an impending sunset.
Her lids drooped several times. She was so weary, but her mind continued its busy schedule. She arched her body and stretched to relieve the tautness near her lower waist. She slipped her hands to that area and massaged the nagging muscles. She sighed heavily and yawned.
Please hurry home, my love. I miss you so much. Why do you stay away so long? My heart longs for you and my body craves to be near you. Is there so much to ponder to keep you from our tepee this many days? Do you not ache for me as I do you?
A new thought came to mind. She suddenly straightened and stiffened. Surely he would not join the hunt before coming home first? The hunt required many weeks. Could he keep her waiting around this way before telling her the secrets of his heart and allowing her to reveal hers? Surely he would send some message?
But he had left so coldly and angrily. Was he afraid she was still in that same mood? Was he staying away intentionally? Had this trouble changed his feelings about her, about them? How long did it take for bruised pride to heal? Each of them had been given ample time to sort out their feelings. How could he continue to ignore her in this cruel manner?
In spite of her loneliness and love, annoyance forced its way into her mind. He wasn’t being fair to her. How could he simply ride off, then stay away without sending word home? Was he laughing and talking with his friends in the buffalo camp this very moment while she fretted over their separation? Was he digesting the excitement and freedom of the great hunt while she starved for his touch and voice?
Another worry joined that one; what if some accident had befallen him? His enemies were many, including the aggressive soldiers. What if he was injured, or captured, or slain? No! she mentally defied those speculations. He was invincible. He was Gray Eagle!
Didn’t he realize how worried she was? Why didn’t he come home? At least send some word to her? This waiting was gnawing viciously upon her. Too, Leah’s inexplicable and piercing gaze upon her disquieted her nerves. What was that girl plotting and thinking now? Was she only trying to decide if she could trust her? Was she summoning the words and courage to confess all?
The still air was severed by the loud clattering of horses’ hooves. She whirled and looked toward camp. Riders were coming in. Who? Why?
Her heart lurched wildly. Shivers passed over her body. She raced for camp. Breathlessly she approached where the men were dismounting. In confusion, she went to White Arrow’s side. He was wounded! A long gash marked the coppery flesh of his upper arm. It was bleeding profusely.
“White Arrow! What happened?” she cried out in alarm.
“The Bluecoats attacked the camp. Most were slain. I arrived just in time to battle two soldiers who had lingered behind to rob the bodies of fallen warriors and women,” he managed, trembling from weakness and unleashed fury.
“Here, sit down and I will dress your wound. Which camp did they attack?” she fearfully asked.
“Moon Gazer’s. He is dead, Shalee. Many long knives pierced his body, but he fought well. The Great Spirit will be honored to greet him. I came too late; I could not save them,” he stated dejectedly.
“Moon Gazer’s camp…” she repeated, mentally going over who had been in his party. “Turtle Woman! Little Flower! Did you see them?” she demanded in panic.
He lowered his head as if the shame and defeat were all his own. “Dead, Grass Eyes. I am sorry. The white-eyes took them by surprise; they had no chance to flee or fight.”
“But they are women! How many did they slay?” she was compelled to ask, dreading his answer. “What about the other two camps?”
“Bluecoats slay any Indian, Shalee. Ten women and three warriors gave their blood to Mother Earth and the Great Spirit. The other camps have been warned. I came to warn Running Wolf to guard the village against a sneak attack.”
They had murdered innocent women? Slaughtered them? Why? So many families torn apart. What about the children and their mates? At least no two from the same family had been present. My God, she thought, and they call Indians savages! “Do you think they will come here next?” she asked, shuddering in fear and anger.
“I would not be surprised, Shalee,” he answered as she completed the tight binding upon his left arm to staunch the flow of blood. She carefully washed the reddish-brown liquid from his lower arm and hand, searching for other injuries.
Running Wolf had joined them, pressing the fatigued and wounded warrior with many frantic questions. Before she could ask about her husband, White Arrow recklessly murmured, “Running Wolf, we must send a brave to the Whispering Caves to alert Gray Eagle. He must return to battle our enemies and avenge those who have fallen. All parties must return to camp until we settle this deed. We must go for the bodies of our people and bring them home. The Bluecoats are on the warpath once more. They could be waiting in ambush for us anywhere.”
“I will send Ten Days to fetch him,” the furious chief announced. “Even we do not massacre innocent white women!”
Shalee stared at her friend, then asked, “You know where he is? All this time, you knew and didn’t tell me? Why?”
A sheepish face lifted to look at her. “It is not permitted to disturb such times. I feared you would go to him if I told you where he was. He said no one was to come to him, not even you.”
“Have you seen him since he left here? Is he in one of the camps now? Why hasn’t he sent me a message?” she quizzed, her tone strangely calm and her gaze unreadable.
“No, Shalee; I have not spoken to him or seen him. He was not in any camp I visited today. When the time is right, he will return home. But we cannot wait for that time now; he must return tonight.”
Her gaze revealed her skepticism. “Are you telling the truth this time?” she panted
. “Why do so many lies fill the air this season?”
“I ask forgiveness for my false words. He will return tonight, Shalee. Have you lived with us so long and still do not grasp our ways?”
“He will return for his people, White Arrow, not because of me. Have you eaten?” she inexplicably asked, needing to change the topic.
He shook his dark head sadly. “I will get you something. You must have strength to battle such evil foes. Rest, and I will bring you food and water.” She hurriedly left.
White Arrow glanced up in astonishment, for it was not Shalee who assisted him. A timid smile flickered upon a lovely face with shining chocolate eyes. He returned the smile before slowly devouring his first meal of this awesome day.
Shalee watched Ten Days mount up and ride away. White Arrow had said her husband would return tonight; that meant he could not be far away. So near, my love; and yet, so very far away…
Shalee quelled her own stormy state to look for her son. She quickly and carefully issued instructions for his survival in case of an attack here. When he puffed out his chest and declared he would battle the white-eyes with the warriors, she pulled him into her arms and said, “No, my son, you must seek the safety of the forest. One day you will be chief; your life must be guarded until you are tall and strong like… your father. You must train to battle such fierce enemies. It is unwise to endanger your life at this time. You must promise me you will hide in the forest if they ride into our camp.”
“But, Mother, all warriors must fight them,” he idealistically and childishly reasoned.
“But you are not yet a warrior, Bright Arrow. You must think of your people first. Who would lead them after your father if you foolishly lose your life before you are ready to battle? Do you not recall how the white-eyes stole you to trade for your father? They could do so again. You must protect his life and yours. It is difficult to watch and wait, but it is sometimes necessary. You have much to learn, little son. No matter what happens when they come, you must flee. Even if my life is in danger, you must not look back or return to camp until it is safe. Do you understand? Promise me,” she firmly demanded. “You are strong and swift; there are old ones and sick ones who I must help escape.”
“Yes, Mother, I will obey,” he reluctantly answered.
“You are a good boy, Bright Arrow. You will be a great leader one day, but you must first live to see that day. You are very brave. If other children cry in fear, silence and comfort them.”
With that grave responsibility, he beamed and raced off to tell his friends of his new role. She was apprehensive about allowing him out of her sight, but one could not live in fear and hiding every moment. Why couldn’t they live in peace? Why did the battles seem endless?
The moon was directly overhead; Shalee caught glimpses of it through the ventilation shaft. Too tense to sleep, she paced the confines of the tepee that she and Turtle Woman had constructed. Memories of days spent with Little Flower and Moon Gazer flashed before her mind’s eye. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Such a tragic waste of life. Such cruelty and hatred. Times like this made her wish she was still in England.
She went to kneel by her son, gently stroking his hair as he slept so peacefully. How wonderful to be so young and innocent, so unknowing of the tragedies of life. Again she arched her aching back to ease the cramps playing there. She stood up and turned, needing some fresh air from the open flap. She halted and stared.
He had entered like a shadow, silent and nimble. He didn’t move; he simply returned her gaze. How tall and handsome he was. How could six days seem like forever; and yet, only a brief moment when they were gone? His stalwart body reeked of brute strength and pride, revealing no trace of denial of food or weakness from his ordeal. He radiated robust health and compelling masculinity. His expression was impassive, his gaze guarded. Should she fly at him in a fit of anger and resentment? Should she throw herself into his arms and cover his face with kisses? How long would he have stayed gone if they had not sent for him? What response did he expect from her, want from her?
The stirring voice calmly announced, “I must ride with the warriors at first light. Protect our son until I return with the bodies of our slain people. When the other hunting parties are safely returned to camp and the bodies of our people sleep upon their scaffolds, I must avenge their murders.”
She waited. Was that all he had to say after their tormenting separation? No warm greeting? No words of love? He would ride away once more, this time to confront peril and death, and nothing? He hadn’t missed her or ached for her? No apology or plea for understanding and forgiveness? He had been close enough to reach and to return within a few hours, and nothing for six torturous days?
“White Arrow was wounded. Have you spoken with him?” she asked, wondering what to say or do, feeling like some polite stranger to this vital and arresting creature.
“We spoke in the Warrior Lodge. He will ride with me.
The lodge? He had been here long enough to have a meeting with his warriors? He had come home for his people, for his duty, for his pride and revenge… but not for her. “I see….” she murmured.
If she had forgiven him, why did she not rush into his arms and declare her love? Had their separation touched her in no way? He had been unable to question White Arrow about her in the presence of others. Why was she still so withdrawn and alarmingly quiet? Could she still reject him now that his body and mind were clean again? He yearned to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her. Why did she not run to him and say all was good again? He was strong and pure once more. Didn’t she long for him as he longed for her? Didn’t she realize he would soon challenge the Bird of Death? Had he found her body only to lose her love? Loneliness and desire chewed at him. Perhaps time and distance had not favorably assisted him….
Chapter Eighteen
Perhaps his beautiful Shalee was only proud and stubborn, or still hurt deeply. Once he had felt he knew her better than himself. If that was true, there was only one way to discover it: make the first overture. He had been the one to create this gulf; he must be the one to breach it. He couldn’t imagine what he would do if he was wrong.
He slowly and purposefully strode forward, his movements fluid and determined. His muscular body had been honed and tempered over the years as some deadly and potent weapon, but it was magnificent and smooth. The bronze flesh gleamed as if oiled for quickness and shine. That old masterful, self-assured aura permeated her senses. His dark eyes glittered like two brittle chips of precious obsidian. His well-defined, noble features presented an exceptionally handsome visage. His massive ego was rigidly governed, his prior insolence noticeably missing. Combining these traits and appearance, he was the epitome of manhood and superiority.
He halted within three inches of her, keenly aware of her quickened respiration and tremors, of his delightfully disturbing effect upon her. Her gaze had leisurely traveled his body to lock upon his face. His jet eyes scanned the face that had haunted him day and night during his purification rite. In that fiery cave, his desire and love had increased as the evil and weakness had poured from his body. At last, he felt whole and alive again, clean and strong. Eager to hurry home, his ritually weakened frame had recovered in just one day from his mandatory ordeal. But the winds of war were ruffling his powerful wings again.
“Shalee,” he spoke tenderly, then halted instantly. How did he begin? What to say or do first?
Panicked by his mysterious mood, she hoarsely probed, “You wish to tell me something?”
To test her emotional waters, he stated, “You do not seem happy to see me home.”
“This is a sad time, Wanmdi Hota. Many of our people were brutally murdered. The Bluecoats are calling you to challenge again. Your people need your guidance and power. Only you can right this terrible deed,” she softly replied, revealing only her vivid sadness and her confidence in his prowess.
“Do you also need me?” he asked pointedly, watching her.
“I am your wife. A
wife always needs her husband,” she cautiously responded near a whisper, her eyes never leaving his.
“That is not my meaning. Do you need me? Me, Wanmdi Hota?” he huskily clarified, knowing she was guarded and uncertain.
She needed a question of her own answered before she exposed her aching heart and soul to him. “Do you need me? You have been away for many days without sending any word to me. Did it require so many moons to decide if you wanted or needed me? Tonight, you return only because your people sent for you. All these many days, they knew of your hiding place, but I did not.” Her voice was laced with anguish and her eyes were naked with warring emotions.
Could it be possible she actually believed he had not missed her? Had not ached for her nearness and touch? Had not battled evil for his very soul to return to her a whole man? Did not love her? Had his absence created more anguish and insecurity? She knew his ways and customs, yet she did not comprehend their importance or meaning. His departure appeared a desertion to her, a tormenting separation when she needed him. Her dejected aura said she honestly thought he was returning for the sake of his people, not her! But that wasn’t true.
He shook his head of flowing, sooty hair. After her ragged words, she had lowered her head and focused her gaze upon his wanapin. He gently grasped her chin and lifted her head, pulling her gaze back to his. “No, Shalee, it is not so. I was riding for home when I encountered Ten Days. Once more I am Gray Eagle, warrior and man worthy of the love of my people and the Great Spirit. My body and mind are cleansed of evil and defeat. Before all others, I return to you.”
She had reacted with astonishment to his first two statements. “You were coming back tonight?” she probed suspensefully, praying she had heard him correctly. His last statement warmed her very soul.
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