Two things occurred that September which took her mind off both the blistering heat and her relationship with Myles.
The first was Ellie Randolph Fletcher, and the second was Tahnancoa Quinlan.
Clara and Theo arrived at her office with Ellie late one afternoon.
"Theo broke a blade on the plow, so we had to make a rush trip in, and we just wanted you to have a look at Ellie," Clara declared, her broad face wreathed in smiles. "Say hello to your Auntie Paige, sweetheart," she instructed.
Paige reached out and Ellie, exquisitely dressed as always in one of Clara's hand embroidered creations, came willingly into her arms.
"How you doing, pumpkin?" Paige noted that the baby was gaining weight, that the sick pallor of her skin had taken on a tanned, rosy hue. The huge blue eyes with their long lashes were no longer sunken and weary looking.
Paige couldn't believe her eyes. Ellie grinned at her, displaying two new teeth. She reached out and patted Paige's cheek, and at a prompt from Clara, put her lips to Paige's skin and planted a wet, open-mouthed kiss. Then she laughed and clapped her hands. "Goo baby," she lisped.
"Clara, she looks absolutely wonderful," Paige said, amazed at the change in the baby.
Ellie squirmed and demanded to be set down, and when Paige released her on the rug, Ellie began heading energetically toward a basket of bright flowers.
"My God, she's crawling." In vivid detail, Paige remembered the last time she'd seen this baby, pale and immobile in her mother's arms, barely able to hold her head up, much less crawl.
"She's never had another convulsion," Clara said. "She's eating most everything we eat, although I'm still nursing her like Tahnancoa said to do." Clara's plain face was suffused with pride and love and gratitude. “Tahnancoa cured her that day, Paige. She gave our baby back to us." Her voice was thick with tears. "We'll be grateful to her the rest of our lives, and to you as well, for arranging that we meet." She glanced at her daughter and moved quickly after her. "Ellie, you rascal, don't touch that."
The baby was gleefully destroying the floral arrangement in the basket, and Paige thought she'd never seen anything as wonderful.
"We're going to go see Tahnancoa ourselves," Clara said, scooping her daughter into her arms, "soon as the harvesting is over, but in the meantime I want you to give her this parcel." She handed Paige a large, brown wrapped bundle. “Tahnancoa wouldn't let us pay her any money that day, so these are just some things I made for her, to say thank you."
Ellie squirmed like a little eel, wanting to get down again, and Clara added softly, "Not that we ever could. Thank her properly, I mean. How do you thank someone for giving you back your heart?"
Paige hadn't seen Tahnancoa for some time, so toward the end of the month, she used the parcel as an excuse to ride out early one morning for a visit. Wanting to avoid the heat, Paige left home before dawn, worrying that she'd arrive and find the Quinlans still in bed.
But Dennis was already out in the field cutting hay when she rode up. He pulled the team to a halt and waved a greeting. "Tahny's making breakfast. Go along in, she's gonna be mighty happy to see you," he hollered, his rugged features creased into a wide grin.
The cabin door was open wide. "Tahny, it's me. Where are you?" Paige rapped her knuckles against the thick wood, but Tahnancoa was nowhere to be seen.
Inside, a pot of oats was foaming over the lip of an iron saucepan on the hot range lid. Paige stirred it down and turned some salt pork, sizzling to a frazzle in the frying pan. Fresh eggs sat on the apron of the stove, waiting to be cracked and fried. Bread was sliced for toasting. It looked as if Tahnancoa had had to leave in a hurry.
"Paige Randolph, how good to see you."
Paige turned with a smile to greet her friend, but the smile faded when she noticed the pronounced greenish cast to Tahnancoa's dusky skin and the heavy shadows beneath the liquid dark eyes.
"Hey, Tahny, you're sick, you look terrible," she said, reaching out a hand to feel Tahnancoa's forehead for fever.
"Only in the mornings, when I have to cook this salt pork for Dennis's breakfast." Tahny shuddered, but then her face broke into a radiant smile. "I'm pregnant, Paige Randolph. I think a little over two months now."
Paige let out a delighted whoop and wrapped her arms around Tahny, giving her a joyous hug. "It worked, I'm so glad, I was afraid to even hope."
"At first, when I explained what you said we must do, Dennis was sure I'd gone loco, but"—Tahnancoa shot Paige a sidelong glance and rolled her eyes—"soon he decided he liked your medicine very well. It's fortunate that we don't have a lot of visitors."
They giggled, and then Paige took over cooking the rest of breakfast. Tahny sipped a cup of her own soothing herbal tea to settle her stomach.
"I went to the reservation as soon as I was sure," she told Paige, "to see Lame Owl and tell her about the baby. I told her that it was your magic that cured me. She wants me to bring you to see her. I told her that you are a powerful shaman who has walked between the worlds."
"Sounds like it's going to be hard to live up to my own PR," Paige muttered. When Tahnancoa shot her a puzzled look, Paige added quickly, "I can't wait to meet your grandmother. When shall we go?"
"Soon, while the weather holds. This hot weather could change to cold and snow in the space of a day."
"Maybe it's not such a good idea for you to ride right now, in the early stages of your pregnancy," Paige worried, but Tahnancoa laughed at her concern.
"I ride all the time. I've already been out to the reserve since I became pregnant," she reminded Paige. "The women of my tribe consider pregnancy a natural condition, and a normal amount of exercise necessary and healthy. We have few miscarriages, and little trouble delivering our children."
It could have been a lecture Paige herself had delivered to her pregnant patients many times. It was ironic that Tahnancoa should lecture her, practically in her own words.
"Then how about this Thursday?" Paige would put a notice in the weekly paper, she decided, saying that her office would be closed Friday.
They agreed on the date and called Dennis in for breakfast. When the meal was over and Dennis had gone back outside again, Paige produced the package Clara had given her and told Tahnancoa about Ellie.
"I still don't know what you did or how you did it, but it's nothing short of a miracle. The Fletchers are grateful to you."
Tahnancoa unwrapped the package. Inside were two beautiful blouses of fine white lawn, with inset lace in a floral pattern on the bodice and tiny pearl buttons down the front and on the cuffs.
Both women exclaimed over the exquisite workmanship—the blouses obviously represented untold hours of loving effort. There was a small piece of paper with the gift, in Clara's flowery handwriting. It read, "For Tahnancoa, from your devoted friend, Clara Fletcher. Bless you for what you did for our daughter. Please come and visit us soon."
Tahnancoa looked at the note for a long time, and then carefully folded it up and tucked it away in one of her baskets with the same care she gave the blouses.
"I came to hate white women when I lived at the fort," she mused in a thoughtful tone. "And I was angry with Myles Baldwin the first time he brought you here, Paige Randolph. I thought I wanted nothing to do with white women ever again. And now I have two friends, and both are white."
"Go figure," Paige said with a tender smile.
Tahnancoa nodded and solemnly repeated, "Go figure" in her softly accented voice, just as if she'd been using the phrase all her life.
The weather held, and Thursday morning, escorted by both Dennis and Myles, the women rode off to Poundmaker's reserve.
"I'm looking forward to meeting Lame Owl," Paige had explained to Myles when she suggested he come along on the trip. "From what Tahnancoa's told me, Lame Owl's a doctor among her people, just as you and I are among ours. There must be a ton of stuff I could learn from her."
She was scrupulously careful not to mention the mysterious ceremony that allowed trave
l through time, even though she knew it must be what Myles was thinking about when she mentioned Lame Owl. It was certainly on her mind.
She suddenly wished with all her heart that he'd say something about it, that the awful constraint between them would somehow be shattered—even if they fought, it would be better than this polite avoidance. But Myles didn't say anything, and she couldn't find the courage to either.
"I'd like to have a talk with Poundmaker myself," he commented instead. "It's been a while since I was out at the reserve."
The journey turned into a delightful outing. The women talked nonstop, and several times Tahnancoa called a halt so she could gather some medicinal flower or plant, at the same time instructing Paige in its preparation and use.
They had a leisurely lunch in the shade of a poplar grove, and while the women rested, Dennis and Myles hunted deer to take as a gift to the Indian encampment. They shot two and skinned them, packing the meat in canvas bags Myles had brought along for that purpose.
The rest of the ride was short. It wasn't long before the tipis and lean-tos that made up Poundmaker's reserve came in sight. Several young braves rode out to meet them and escort them into camp, followed by a horde of excited, noisy children.
Paige's heart was hammering with excitement and nervousness. The dusty Indian village looked exactly like the ones depicted in every Western movie she'd ever seen. She wouldn't have been at all surprised to see a Hollywood director pop out of nowhere and start giving orders.
There were dogs barking and women gathered around smoky cooking fires. Small children staggered around, falling in the dirt, and curious dusky faces peeped out at them from folded back flaps on the buffalo hide tipis.
A tall, fierce looking man with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders came striding out of a tipi and marched over to greet them.
"My uncle, Chief Poundmaker," Tahnancoa whispered to Paige.
Poundmaker was a physically powerful man, about six feet tall, very broad and muscular, wearing buckskins. Paige thought him handsome; he had overwhelming presence, a dignity that commanded respect, chiseled features, and piercing dark eyes under hooded brows.
Myles and Dennis dismounted and walked forward to meet him, and the men shook hands. Myles said something in the Cree language to which Poundmaker responded at some length. The women dismounted and joined the group, and Tahnancoa introduced Paige to the chief.
"My niece has told me of your powerful magic," he said in English in his guttural voice. His black eyes were hypnotic. "You are a welcome guest in my village."
He turned back to Myles and Dennis and lapsed back into Cree, and the women were ignored as the men talked on and on.
Tahnancoa gestured to two young boys hovering nearby, and they came and took charge of the horses, leading them off to a corral.
"Come, I'll introduce you to the women." Tahnancoa led the way to where a group of women, young and old, were gathered.
She spoke to them in Cree for some time, and when she was done, each of them came up to Paige and took her hand, smiling and saying their name and hers.
Some of them spoke a little English, and those who did proudly tried it out on her.
"How you are?" one said.
"Good to meet," another offered.
They giggled and brought tea and food, dried fruit and a sweet tasting stew that Tahnancoa explained was made from bear meat.
Paige admired the babies, beautiful, smiling little creatures strapped to elaborately painted buckskin cradles, carried on their mothers' backs or propped casually against the sides of tipis.
They all looked remarkably healthy and happy. She watched one young mother unstrap her baby and change the dried and sterilized moss that was used for his diapers. Paige held him for a moment, a plump, naked cherub who smelled of wood smoke and some sweet oil his mother used on his delicate baby skin. She cuddled his wriggling body and pressed her lips to his fuzzy head. The appeal of babies was universal, and so were their habits. Paige laughed with the others when the baby's tiny penis sprayed urine all over her.
"Come now and meet my grandmother," Tahnancoa said.
It was the moment Paige had been waiting for and dreading, a chance to meet the woman who might hold the key to a doorway that led to the future.
A wave of panic came over her for a moment as she followed Tahnancoa through the maze of tipis. What would she really do if Lame Owl agreed to let her attend the ceremony that might open that door? If the opportunity presented itself, would she choose to go—or would she stay? She thought of Myles, of the love they shared.
Would she be able to leave him? She no longer knew the answer, but she'd like to have a choice, to know there was a way to make the journey back.
Feeling a mixture of fear and anticipation, Paige ducked after Tahny through the low opening of a tipi.
Inside, buffalo hides covered the floor, and the air was pungent with smoke and the smell of hides curing. Cooking utensils and sleeping robes were arranged neatly around the walls, and from the tent poles hung strips of drying meat, gourds, and intricately woven baskets.
At first glance, Lame Owl was not an imposing figure. She was tiny and toothless, her brown skin stretched so tight across her cheeks and jutting nose that she reminded Paige of a wild bird.
Her still dark hair was so thin her scalp showed through the braids wound around her head. She was smoking a pipe, and small puffs of white erupted from her nostrils at regular intervals. She huddled in front of a small fire with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders despite the heat of the afternoon. Her black shoe-button eyes were bright and alert, however, and she studied Paige, her expression unreadable.
Respectfully, Tahnancoa bowed to the old woman and then knelt at her side, talking to her in Cree, gesturing at Paige.
Myles had advised Paige to bring Lame Owl a gift.
Tahnancoa suggested tobacco—her grandmother, she said, was addicted to her pipe.
Paige handed the old woman the package. She'd added a pretty necklace she'd bought at the store and a package of sugar, and Lame Owl seemed pleased with the gifts. She made a long speech to Tahnancoa, her toothless mouth sending spittle flying.
"She welcomes you and thanks you for the gifts. She wishes to know what magic you used to start the baby growing within me," Tahnancoa interpreted. "She asks if you were a great shaman in your own land, before you walked between the worlds."
Still nervous in the presence of this mysterious old woman, Paige wondered how on earth to respond. In spite of the flattery, Paige had the feeling Lame Owl was wily, that she was testing her, making her own judgment about how powerful this strange white woman's medicine might be or how truthful her stories.
Paige decided to begin by explaining in simple terms, as she had so often, the functions of a woman's organs and how conception worked.
Lame Owl listened, nodding, her expression noncommittal.
On impulse, Paige then launched into a vivid description of in vitro fertilization, fertility drugs, artificial insemination—all the strange and wonderful techniques that medical science had developed to aid in conception.
Tahnancoa stumbled over the words that were difficult to translate, but now Lame Owl was visibly intrigued. She leaned forward, listening intently, forgetting even to puff at her pipe.
Through Tahny, she asked questions, intelligent questions, and Paige answered.
Soon, Paige felt secure enough to ask some questions of her own, about special techniques Tahnancoa had told Paige her grandmother had used for difficult births, about herbal preparations for specific problems Paige had encountered with her patients for which the medical profession of the day had no medications.
The dialogue went back and forth until Tahny, weary with the effort of translating, called a halt for tea. Paige and Lame Owl sipped the strong, sweet brew Tahnancoa offered, and the old woman nodded and smiled at Paige.
Paige drank her tea, and when Lame Owl noisily sipped the last of hers, Paige decided it was no
w or never. She had to ask about the ceremony that sent people through time, or the opportunity would be lost. She told Tahnancoa what she wanted to know, adding, "Ask her if I could be there the next time the ceremony is held, please."
She knew as soon as Tahnancoa turned the question into Cree that it was a mistake. Lame Owl interrupted before Tahnancoa was finished speaking. She shook her head and gesticulated with her hands. Her words were vehement, almost angry, and they went on for some time. Paige's heart sank.
When Lame Owl was finished speaking, she scrambled to her feet and walked out the door of the tipi without another word, without so much as a glance at Paige.
Tahnancoa sighed and shook her head. "My grandmother is old and set in her ways. You must excuse her."
"I'm sorry, Tahnancoa. I've made her angry."
Tahnancoa shrugged. "She has strong feelings, my grandmother. She thinks the white people have taken much from the Indian—their buffalo, their freedom—and given too little back. You are one of the few whites she's ever even spoken to. Some of our knowledge she will share with you, she says, because you have helped me become pregnant, and you too are a healer, but our ceremonies are all we have left that the white man hasn't taken from us. Therefore she will not speak of them with you."
"I can understand how she feels." Paige remembered what the Indians had told Myles, the Sunday of the picnic, about promises made and broken, a way of life forever lost. Sadness filled her, and a sense of futility.
"It's getting late. The women were preparing a feast with the fresh meat we brought, it'll be ready soon," Tahnancoa said, making a determined effort to lighten the mood. "There's a creek nearby where we can wash. And I'll show you where you will sleep."
Outside, it was already twilight. Tahnancoa pointed out the small tipi where Paige's things had already been piled beside Myles's saddlebags and bedroll.
So it was taken for granted here that she was Myles Baldwin's woman, that she'd sleep beside him in this buffalo skin shelter. It was a freedom they didn't have back in Battleford. They'd never had the chance to sleep together all night long.
Now and Forever: Time Travel Romance Superbundle Page 25
