by Sharon Ihle
Daniel suspected he'd gone a little too far even before Josie grabbed his plate off the bed, then flounced over to the counter and dumped the remains of both their meals there. When she marched over to the table and glanced out the window, he thought she might even try to make a break for it.
She didn't, but surprised him by completely ignoring the previous subject to ask, "If this is a cattle ranch, where are your cattle and hired hands?"
As happy as she for the change of topic, Daniel laughed as he said, "We're just getting a start in the business. Long Belly is my hired hands."
Turning back to him, Josie asked, "Then why is he off chasing buffalo that aren't there instead of tending the herd?"
In no mood to get back on such a personal level, Daniel made quick work of his explanation. `Buffalo have always provided food, lodging, tools, and other goods to the Cheyenne, and are the most worshiped animal in that tribe, second only to their God, Heammawihio. Since Long Belly can't fill his people's bellies just yet, he dreams of finding at least one living buffalo to fill them all with hope."
Her expression thoughtful, Josie nodded, and then went back to staring out the window. After that, the morning and afternoon flew by as Daniel dragged himself outside to tend the livestock with his surprisingly cooperative assistant, Josie, by his side.
Not only did she muck out the stalls without complaint, she didn't even balk when he filled a wheelbarrow with fresh pine logs, and asked her to push it back to the cabin. Whether she realized he was laying in supplies against what could be one hell of a storm, he couldn't say. All Daniel knew for sure. was that scattered snowflakes had begun falling at noon, and if the darkening clouds were any indication, his ranch would be covered in at least a foot of snow by morning.
That night they ate a supper of ham and leftover flapjacks, as Daniel thought of them. Although Josie continued to do pretty much what he asked of her, as the evening wore on, he could sense a little of the former defiance creeping back into her manner. He went so far as to complain about his aching head, holding it and moaning like the baby she'd accused him of being, but even that performance wasn't enough to bring her back to a contrite, fairly obedient female. What little remained of Josie's agreeable nature abruptly vanished about the time she crawled under Daniel's blanket. Then, once again, he found a lodgepole pine lying next to him.
"So, Josie," he said casually. "I realize it wasn't your idea to come here and all, and that whatever Long Belly paid, it probably wasn't quite enough for all you've been through. How much more do you want to take the starch out of my hide?"
Beside him, incredulously enough, she grew even stiffer. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Daniel cleared his throat and reached for her. "I was hoping to buy a little of your time. It's been a while since I've known the feel of a woman."
She slapped his hand away the minute it touched down on her breast. "It's going be a lot longer if you're counting on me to ease your suffering. Now shut up. I'm tired and need some sleep."
By the next morning, Josie wondered how much longer her own belly would let her hide her considerable cooking skills. Though she'd intentionally burned the pancakes just to make sure that she wouldn't called on to cook again, she found to her chagrin that even she couldn't stand them. Her sensibilities were also offended enough by the mess in the cabin that she considered tidying the place up a little. Then again, it could be a waste of time. Cleanliness may have been next to godliness, but Josie thought that maybe this cabin was too ungodly to ever be clean again. Maybe if she stayed outside more, she wouldn't notice so much.
Taking Daniel's heavy coat from the rack, Josie slipped into it, and while she was at it, helped herself to his deerskin boots. They were thigh-high moccasins with fringed flaps that were more than big enough to pull on over her shoes.
"I'm going out back to use the privy," Josie announced over her shoulder. "Is there anything I should do for the animals while I'm outside?"
"Well, you could milk the cow, if you don't mind, and maybe toss a little hay to the horses. Everything else should be all right until tonight, unless you want to trouble yourself to look for eggs."
Josie kept both her smile and her delight to herself. "Oh, all right," she said with a forced sigh. "I'll do what I can."
Then she opened the door and stepped out into a thick, invigorating blanket of glistening snow. Daniel's boots proved to be surprisingly warm, even though Josie did have to stop now and then to pull them up, but they kept her dry as she trudged to the outhouse and then to the barn, all without spotting a bear, thank the Lord. She'd left the gun an the table where she'd dropped it, too skittish after shooting Daniel to even think of touching it again so soon.
When Josie finished tending the livestock, she took a few minutes to just stand out in the cold and breathe the frosty mountain air. Unlike her mother, who had bundled herself from head to foot at the first sign of fall, Josie thrived in cooler temperatures. She came alive at the first flurries of snow, her pulse racing through her body with renewed vigor, and felt a certain bond with the out of doors each time her breath left its imprint in the frosty air.
Loathe to return to the cabin, Josie finally forced herself to collect the eggs and a half a pail of milk, then headed for the house. As she stepped across the threshold and kicked the door shut, Daniel greeted her with pretty much the same words he'd used the morning before.
"I'm starving," he said, patting his belly through a clean buckskin shirt—well, cleaner than the last, anyway. "Why don't you fry up those eggs and maybe try to make us some biscuits today. Sure would go good with what's left of that ham."
Josie set the supplies on the counter. "If you want breakfast, you're going to have to cook it up yourself. I've got stalls to muck out."
"But what about you? Aren't you hungry?"
Since Josie had come across a barrel of apples in the barn while looking for eggs and had nearly eaten herself sick on them, she found it easy to smile and say, "I couldn't eat a bite. Besides, I'd just as soon get the chores done."
* * *
By late afternoon, the wind had picked up dramatically, howling like a thousand wolves in the depths of despair. Where there had been pristine snow and a quiet preparation for the winter ahead, came a blizzard of freezing proportions, a display to show them all, man and beast alike, that Nature danced to her own tune and in her own time. No one was more surprised than Daniel at the sudden, extensive display of raw power.
"My Lord," Josie blurted out as she peered through the window. "If this keeps up, I'll never get back to town. Never."
"Oh, it can't be that bad."
But just to make sure, Daniel pulled himself up on his crutches and hobbled over to join Josie at the window. When he looked out, all he could see was sheets of ice. There were no trees, no barn, no nothing. It was as if white had erased the entire world beyond the cabin.
"Damn," he said, amending his previous statement. "That is an unusually big storm for so early in November. I sure hope Long Belly and your friend were able to find shelter before all this started."
Damn fool Cheyenne, was what he thought, but Daniel kept that sentiment to himself. No good worrying Josie, even though she would have every reason to be concerned if she realized the kind of jeopardy Sissy might be in by now. She was already worried enough on her own behalf. He wasn't any too comfortable with the looks of the weather himself.
Making a show of nonchalance, Daniel went to check on the big pot of elk stew he'd started earlier, a meal he hoped would taste as good as it smelled. About then he picked up the sound of something other than the wind. He thought he heard a high-pitched whinny, and was beginning to think that maybe he beard the sound only because he wanted to so badly, when something heavy thumped down on the porch. A moment later the cabin door crashed open, and in blew Long Belly with Sissy and the storm close behind.
"We have returned," he announced unnecessarily. "My woman has found the place where the great buffalo sleeps."
Grinning like a fool, Long Belly became quite animated, even for him. He spread his arms wide and said, "It was the bed of a huge bull, bigger and deeper than any I have ever seen."
Daniel scoffed at the idea. "You probably stumbled across the sleeping spot for a bull elk, or maybe a steer."
Long Belly shook his head resolutely. "It belonged to the buffalo, my friend, and he had recently rolled his great body there. I found his tracks leading away from this place, but lost them when the storm came."
As Daniel stood there in shock, his mouth agape, Long Belly took Sissy by the shoulders and began, to rub her arms vigorously. Buffalo Hair has the spirit in her as I thought," he went on. "When the storm leaves us, she will return with me to the sleeping place and lead me to the great one."
Daniel still couldn't quite buy the story, but he withheld comment. He didn't dare believe it, not yet, not on so little grounds. Even if it were true, Long Belly would have one hell of a time catching such a beast if he ever spotted it, especially since this lone bison had apparently eluded hunters and ranchers for so long. Because Long Belly, a tracker without equal, had identified hoofprints that couldn't easily be mistaken for another animal's, Daniel had to at least make a show of rejoicing with him.
"Congratulations, brother. May your next hunt be a complete success."
The Cheyenne patted Sissy's hair with near reverence, as close to affection as be ever got. Then he said, Buffalo Hair should be congratulated, not me. She is like a goddess and will be treated as one."
He then led her to a chair and carefully eased her onto the seat. Daniel couldn't help but notice that through it all, the dusky-skinned whore had kept her thoughts to herself. Even her expression was a careful blank, revealing nothing of the woman within.
Josie, who'd been as silent and stunned as Daniel throughout Long Belly's passionate explanation, moved over by the table and stared down at her friend.
"Are you all right, Sissy?" she asked.
Long Belly immediately stepped between the two women. "Buffalo Hair is weary and must rest. You may tend to her needs, but do not bother her with your woman's chatter."
With that he turned away from an even more stunned Josie and said to Daniel, "One of these cattle who roams the hills, a small one that won't be missed by his owner, insisted on following this great warrior on the return home. We will eat well during this bad storm."
"Oh, damnit Long Belly." Daniel rapped the Boor with one of his crutches. "How many times do I have to tell you that stealing cattle from the ranches around here is not the same thing as stealing horses? It is not a test of your bravery and skill. All it does it irritate the white folks and make them more determined than ever to run us off this land. Is that what you want?"
His head held high, long broad nose pointed regally upward, Long Belly ignored the entire complaint. He turned to Josie instead, sounding as imperious as he looked, and said, "This calf who sacrificed himself for our table is waiting for you in the barn. You will clean him, taking care not to damage the hide."
Josie, who'd worn a frightened, cornered look since Long Belly strode into the room, was suddenly a mass of conflicting expressions—chief of which was that damned defiance that reminded Daniel so much of his departed wife. Unlike Tangle Hair, this woman didn't seem to recognize her place.
Cheyenne women never forgot their status and unfailingly performed the tasks expected of them—fixing meals, tanning hides, sewing clothing, and even setting up the tipis in which they lived. Long Belly was raised in such a manner, his every need tended to by the women of his tribe, and unfortunately he expected the same of all females, white, brown, or red.
Daniel knew better than that, of course, not that the knowledge made Josie's presence any easier to bear. Tangle Hair would never, ever have refused to cook his meals or sew and clean his clothing. Like Josie, however, she was given to fits of insolence. If the woman smelled so much as a drop of whisky on Daniel's breath or took exception to something he said, she would chase him out of his own tipi until she was good and ready to let him back in again. So strong of will was she, in fact, that Tangle Hair had once actually fed Blackrobe, the Catholic priest at the mission, then thrown him out of her tipi in a rage because he failed to compliment her cooking.
His Cheyenne wife's attitude was one of defiance. The same was true of Josie. Daniel watched her carefully, wondering if fear or insolence would run her tongue when she finally addressed Long Belly's demands. And what his stubborn brother-in-law would do in return should defiance win out.
Growing impatient, Long Belly clenched his fists and took a step toward Josie. "You will do this now," he demanded of her. "Or you will be punished."
Chapter 6
When Josie first saw the Cheyenne come through the door, his great robe, hair, and face dusted with snow, the usual cold fear crawled through her veins, freezing her. to the spot. At the arrogant demands he made, her blood suddenly thawed then heated until it bubbled like the stew on the stove.
"Make me." Josie dropped into a crouch and raised her fists. "I grew up with fourteen brothers—fifteen if you count the one a no-account murdering Indian killed. Just because you're bigger than me doesn't mean I can't get a few good licks in before you beat me to a pulp. And that's what you're going to have to do to make me go out to that barn and butcher your supper."
The savage looked to his brother in surprise.
Daniel glanced at Josie, hesitated, and then laughed. "You'd best believe her, Long Belly. She damn near blew my head off this morning just because I fell asleep while she was talking."
This, unfortunately, drew the Indian's attention to the strip of petticoat strapped to Daniel's scalp. "What did happen to your head?" he asked.
"It's like I said—she shot me. I wouldn't get her all riled up if I was you."
Long Belly's skeptical eyes went to Josie. "This is true? You took a gun and shot my brother?"
She threw back her shoulders, a mouse standing up to a puma, then dared to say, "Darn tooting I did."
To her relief, the big Cheyenne turned away from her, slowly shook his head, and apologized to his brother-in-law. "This gift I have brought to you is truly worthless. She cannot cook, is no good at washing dishes, and now she has tried to kill you. Perhaps I should leave her in the forest for the wolves."
"Hold on a minute." At last, Daniel came to her defense. "I didn't say she meant to shoot me, just that she did. It was an accident, and she did turn out to be a pretty good doctor when it came time to patch me up."
Long Belly turned to stare at her again, not exactly glaring, but making Josie feel as if he were measuring her for a pine box.
"She is a bad gift, this white woman who can do nothing. Until I can return her to her people, she must be taught to obey. Perhaps it would help if I were to beat her."
Josie dropped back into a crouch, fists raised as before. "Go ahead," she challenged. "Try it."
"All right, you two," said Daniel. "Why don't you both go to your own corners a while and cool off. Maybe in the meantime, Sissy can go to the barn and take care of that calf. The stew ought to be about done by the time she gets back."
Long Belly shook his head, rattling the arrowheads and strips of wolf hide woven into his braids. "Buffalo Hair must rest. She is not to be disturbed by such tasks. I will see to this lost animal myself."
Grumbling something about women's work, Long Belly started for the door, pausing long enough to say to Josie, "When I return, you will be punished for what you have done to my brother's head—and for what you have not done for him." Then he disappeared into the storm.
Although she'd halfway expected a little show of support from Sissy, it didn't take long for Josie to discover that it wouldn't be forthcoming. While Daniel continued to work on a large piece of deerskin, Sissy snuggled quietly in her chair, eyes downcast as she warmed herself by the stove. Her casual, unconcerned attitude irritate
d Josie at first, but then it occurred to her that she hadn't so much as given a thought to poor Sissy when she'd been out in the storm. Hadn't even considered her safety or the terror she must have felt to be lost in a raging blizzard.
Realizing this about herself made Josie feel awful enough on its own. When she remembered some of the things Sissy had said the morning she'd gone with Long Belly on his insane journey, she felt even worse. Maybe Sissy was right, Josie thought with a jolt. Maybe she was a terrible excuse for a friend. She'd certainly taken for granted the overtures Sissy had made on her behalf at the pleasure palace. Never once had she done anything for the woman in return.
Hoping to make up for the unintended slights, Josie turned to her and asked, "Are you warmed up yet?"
She shivered a little. "Almost."
"Would you like me to heat some water to warm your hands and feet?''
"Huh?" Sissy looked up at Josie, the whites of her eyes exposed. "Well, sure. That'd be real nice."
"I'll get right to it."
As she searched through the rubble of dirty dishes on the counter by the stove, Josie realized that something fundamental had changed in Sissy, a subtle yet obvious difference. The woman had always been distant, very much within herself, almost to the point of being secretive. Now she seemed more aloof than cold, as if her stoical nature was by design rather than by rote. Gone was the slight droop of her chin, the subservient manner. She even displayed a touch of ego, as if her new role as Long Belly's great buffalo goddess had gone to her head.
Of course, part of that ridiculously imperious manner surely stemmed from the way the damned savage had worshiped her since their return. The way he'd fussed over Sissy, insisting that she couldn't be distracted from the buffalo spirit long enough to help do anything would be enough to turn any woman's head. Even Josie's. Why couldn't she have been the one to have found a damned buffalo wallow?
