Lakota Legacy: Wolf DreamerCowboy Days and Indian NightsSeven Days

by Madeline Baker

  “I was wrong to refuse you. I know that now. I am older now, and wiser. Will you not give us another chance?”

  “I cannot. I saw Rebecca in vision. She is to be my woman.”

  “If you care for her, send her away before it is too late. She will never be happy here,” Summer Moon Rising remarked. She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “She will never belong here.”

  The words cut into his heart. They were the same words Rebecca had said.

  “I cannot send her away.”

  “Then keep her as a slave, if you must have her, but do not let her come between us.”

  A muffled footstep caught Wolf Dreamer’s attention. Looking past Summer Moon Rising, he saw Rebecca standing a few feet away, her eyes wide as she took in the scene before her.

  Knowing how it must look, he felt a rush of guilt, even though he had done nothing wrong.

  Summer Moon Rising glanced over her shoulder, a malignant smile curving her lips when she saw the white woman. She let her hand slide down Wolf Dreamer’s bare chest in a gesture that was boldly possessive before clutching his shoulders again.

  Muttering an oath he had learned from the whites, Wolf Dreamer pried her fingers from his flesh and took a step backward.

  Summer Moon Rising grabbed his arm. “Do not go.”

  He shook off her hand. “Leave me! You have caused enough trouble for one day.”

  Summer Moon Rising sauntered up the path that led to the village. When she drew even with Rebecca, she paused long enough to give her a smug smile, then continued on her way.

  “Rebecca.”

  She turned her back to him. “Get dressed.”

  He frowned, then looked down at the clout in his hand. He donned it quickly, then went to Rebecca. When he placed his hand on her shoulder, she slipped out from under it and turned to look at him.

  “Rebecca…”

  “I thought you said there was nothing between the two of you?”

  “You do not believe me?”

  She lifted a skeptical brow. “I think there’s plenty going on between you. I suspect if I had gotten here sooner, I would have found her naked, too.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “You think that we…” He shook his head. “I would as soon sleep with a wounded she-bear as share my blankets with that woman.”

  “What did she want?”

  “She wants to be my wife. She said I could keep you as my slave, if I could not let you go.”

  “Slave!” Disbelief and fury blazed from the depths of her eyes. “You expect me to be your slave?”

  He had thought to make her laugh with the foolishness of it. He had not meant to arouse her anger. “Rebecca…”

  “I will not stay here and be your slave!”

  He closed the distance between them, his hands folding over her arms. “Listen to me…”

  “No! I’m leaving, and don’t you try to stop me!”

  “Rebecca!”

  His hand tightened on her forearm, his grip like iron. “I want no other woman. I will have no other woman. If you will not be mine, then I will live my life alone.”

  She blinked up at him, her anger fading in the face of his declaration. “I know you care for me, Wolf Dreamer, but do you love me?”

  “How can you doubt it?”

  “I guess I was just jealous, seeing the two of you together…you…” Heat climbed into her cheeks. “You with no clothes on. I thought…never mind what I thought.”

  “I think we must marry soon,” Wolf Dreamer said.

  The thought excited her almost as much as it frightened her.

  Wolf Dreamer spent the rest of the afternoon instructing her in the ways of his people. All living things had spirits of their own—animals, trees, the mountains, rivers, the tall grasses that covered the prairie, even the earth itself. The people worshipped Wakan Tanka. He was the Great Spirit, the creator of all living. Four was a sacred number, as there were four other gods under Wakan Tanka: Inyan, the Rock, Maka, the Earth, Skan, the Sky, and Wi, the Sun. There were four directions to the earth, four seasons to the year.

  He told her that, once they were married, the lodge and all its belongings would be hers, save for his clothing and his weapons. Her duties would be to keep the lodge clean, cook the meals, keep the fire going, sew and mend their clothing, gather the wood and the water, rear their children.

  “And what will you do?” It was a foolish question, but one she could not resist. Her duties as the wife of an Indian man were the same ones she had shouldered as Gideon’s wife.

  “I will fill your lodge with meat and protect you from our enemies.”

  “And what will you do when you are shaman?”

  “I will guide the people. I will heal their wounds. I will interpret the dreams of those who have had visions and determine when it is time to move the camp. I will make courting flutes for the young men…”

  “Courting flutes?”

  Wolf Dreamer nodded. “Flutes are wakan,” he said. “Holy, when made by one with power…”

  “Someone like you?”

  “Yes. When a young man is in love, he goes to a holy man for a flute. The shaman makes him a flute and gives him a song that will win the heart of the woman he wishes to court.”

  “So,” Rebecca said, grinning, “it’s like magic?”

  “Yes,” Wolf Dreamer agreed. “Magic.”

  “Did you play a magic flute for Summer Moon Rising?” Rebecca asked, unable to keep the jealousy out of her voice.

  “No.”

  “Why not? What happened between you? Why did she marry someone else?”

  “Soon after we agreed to marry, I went to seek a vision. It was then that my spirit guide came to me…”

  “The gray wolf?”

  “Yes. It was then I learned that I would be the next shaman. Powers I had sensed before grew stronger. One day, when Roan Horse was away from the village, a war party returned home. One of the young men was badly hurt. I laid my hands on him, and he was made whole again.

  “Other tribes learned of my power to heal. Our enemy, the Crow, attacked our village and tried to take me captive. Many warriors were killed.

  “Summer Moon Rising was frightened by this and she turned away from me. She was afraid of my powers, afraid of what it might mean to be my woman.”

  “So she married your best friend.”

  He nodded. “Soon after, another tribe attacked us. Again, there were many deaths. I felt responsible and I ran away from the village.”

  “Why did you decide to come back?”

  “It was time.”

  “How did you know?”

  “My spirit guide told me.”

  Rebecca thought about all he had told her while she prepared the evening meal. She didn’t believe he spoke to a gray wolf, but there was no point in mentioning it because it was obvious that he believed it.

  She went to bed early that night, wondering if she would ever get used to cooking over an open fire, eating with utensils made of buffalo horn, sleeping on the ground under a furry robe. Living with a man who spoke to animals…

  Wolf Dreamer woke to the high-pitched cry of a woman wailing and knew that Roan Horse’s spirit had left his body to follow the spirit path to the place of souls.

  Sitting up, he glanced over at Rebecca. She was also sitting up, clutching her sleeping robe to her breast. “What is that?”

  “Roan Horse has gone to his ancestors. Lark Song is crying for her husband.”

  During the next few days, Rebecca again had cause to doubt her ability to accept the Lakota life style. She watched Roan Horse’s kinfolk as they mourned his death. The men gashed their flesh. His wife cut off her little finger and hacked off her hair. The other women also cut their hair short.

  “It is a way to show their grief,” Wolf Dreamer told her. “The physical pain is an outward sign of the pain they feel within.”

  They mourned him for four days, then wrapped the body in a buffalo rob
e and carried it away from the village to the burial ground and lifted it onto a scaffold. His weapons hung from the poles, together with a small bundle of food—so that he might have food on his journey to the next life, Wolf Dreamer said. His favorite pipe and his shield were also placed on the scaffold. She watched with horror as a horse was killed.

  “So that he may ride in comfort to the Afterworld,” Wolf Dreamer explained.

  Rebecca thought the killing cruel and barbaric.

  As they left the burial ground, she caught Summer Moon Rising staring at her with ill-disguised loathing. The Indian woman was just one more reason why living here would never work. Summer Moon Rising would always be there, watching, sneering, trying to cause trouble, making sure Rebecca was never accepted.

  She looked up as Wolf Dreamer touched her arm.

  “You are far away,” he remarked, falling into step beside her.

  “Yes.”

  “You are feeling uncomfortable and afraid.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He shrugged. “You will grow accustomed to our ways, in time.”

  “What if I don’t?” she asked, ducking into his lodge. “What if I never do?”

  Chapter 11

  Rebecca sat apart from the other women and children who had sought to cool off at the river’s edge. She watched them laughing, talking, playing in the water. Some of them looked her way now and then. A few of the younger women offered tentative smiles, the children stared at her curiously.

  Three weeks had passed since Wolf Dreamer had brought her here. She spent most of her days alone while he was busy doing whatever it was shamans did. He spent his evenings teaching her Lakota ways, teaching her to speak the language which she thought was rather lovely. She was rarely bored, as there was always something to do…wood and water to gather for cooking and bathing, food to prepare. She was trying to learn how to make moccasins, using one of Wolf Dreamer’s old ones for a pattern.

  Still, for all that she managed to keep busy, she couldn’t help feeling lonely, an outcast among strangers.

  “You will never belong here.”

  Rebecca glanced over her shoulder, startled to hear a female voice echoing the words in her heart.

  It was Summer Moon Rising.

  “You speak English!” Rebecca exclaimed.

  “When I wish.”

  “Did Wolf Dreamer teach you?”

  “No. My grandfather was wasichu. He taught me.” Summer Moon Rising crossed her arms over her breasts. “Why do you not go away from this place? We do not want you here.”

  “I would if I could,” Rebecca retorted.

  “I could help you.”

  “Really? How?”

  “I will guide you down the mountain. Once you reach the bottom, you have only to follow the river south. After two days, you will come to a small wasichu settlement.”

  “What about Wolf Dreamer? He’s sure to come after me.”

  “He is going hunting with my brother and two of his friends tomorrow morning. They will be gone for several days.”

  Home. The very word filled her with excitement. This was her chance to go back to Philadelphia, to see her parents again, to return to civilization. It would be wonderful to live in a real house again, to shop in the city, to wear nice clothes and sleep on a feather bed. Home. Even the thought of facing her father and hearing him say, I told you so, couldn’t dull her excitement.

  She stared up at Summer Moon Rising. Dared she trust her? She shook off her doubts. This might be her only chance to get away. Taking a deep breath, she said, “All right, I’ll be ready in the morning.”

  Wolf Dreamer sat cross-legged in front of the fire, surreptitiously watching Rebecca. She had been unusually quiet this evening, ever since he had told her he was going hunting in the morning. He had thought her silence might be due to anger that he was leaving, but she had assured him she wasn’t angry, had smiled and said she would get along just fine without him. He had told her they would marry when he returned. She had stared at him, then looked away, but not before he saw the tears in her eyes. Were they tears of joy, he wondered, or tears of defeat?

  With a shake of his head, he continued to hone his skinning knife. Women. Who could understand them? He could read the signs of the moon and stars, track a buffalo across the vast prairie, find water in the desert, but he could not find his way in a woman’s heart.

  That night, he slid under her blankets and drew her into his arms. “Rebecca, what is it that troubles you?”

  “Nothing.”

  He stroked her hair, loving the feel of it, the way it curled around his hand as though it had a life of its own. He yearned for the day when she would truly be his, when he could love her as he longed to do.

  He was surprised, but pleased, when her arms crept around his neck and she kissed him. He drew her closer, his body stirring in reaction to her nearness. Of all wasichu customs, he liked kissing the best.

  She didn’t protest when he caressed her, only whimpered softly. It was not a cry of pain, but of pleasure and his body quickened still more, encouraged by her response.

  Rebecca clung to him, her emotions in turmoil. She would never belong here, she knew that, just as she knew in her heart that she had fallen in love with Wolf Dreamer. But sometimes love wasn’t enough. The thought brought tears to her eyes and filled her with a sense of desperation. After tonight, she would never see him again.

  But she had tonight.

  She ran her hands over his strong shoulders, down his arms, over his chest, delighting in the smooth heat of his skin, the way he responded to her touch, the husky tremor in his voice when he murmured her name.

  She burned for his touch, for his kiss, his caress. He wanted her, too, of that there could be no doubt. She knew he didn’t intend to make love to her until they were married, but that day would never come and she wanted him now, wanted to spend one night in his arms, loving and being loved.

  When he started to pull away, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, her tongue stroking his lower lip, slipping inside to duel with his. He moaned softly as her caresses grew more bold until, with a low growl of surrender, he rose over her. He gazed down at her for a long moment, his face illuminated by the glow of the coals, and then his body merged with hers and there was no more time for thought of anything but the wondrous pleasure of being in his arms, of feeling his body moving deep within her own…

  Before going to sleep, Rebecca wondered how she would face him in the morning, not only because they had made love but because she was leaving. Would he see it in her eyes?

  But all her worrying was in vain. He was gone when she woke in the morning. He had told her he would be leaving early, but somehow, she had thought he would awaken her and kiss her goodbye. She put her disappointment aside, telling herself it would be easier this way.

  Rising, she dressed, smiling a little as her body reminded her of what she had done the night before. Her smile quickly faded with the realization that it would never happen again.

  She pushed the thought aside, braided her hair, slipped on her moccasins, and she was ready to go.

  Summer Moon Rising appeared at her lodge a short time later.

  Rebecca felt a deep and surprising sense of loss as she rode away from Wolf Dreamer’s tipi. Though she had never felt that she belonged here, she couldn’t shake off the feeling, however wrong it might be, that she belonged with Wolf Dreamer.

  Thrusting that wayward notion out of her mind, she concentrated on following Summer Moon Rising out of the village toward the narrow, tree-lined trail that led down the mountain. Because she didn’t want to think about Wolf Dreamer, she thought of her parents instead. In a month or so, she would be home again, but for some reason, even that thought failed to cheer her.

  As they left the village further behind, the misgivings Rebecca had had earlier crept into her mind. Had she been foolish to put her life into the hands of a woman who was so openly her enemy? Her own vulnerability struck
Rebecca like a blow as her gaze lingered on the knife stuck in the sash of the other woman’s tunic. If Summer Moon Rising attacked her, she had nothing but her own strength with which to fight back. It was a frightening thought. Summer Moon Rising was a head taller and outweighed her by perhaps thirty pounds. She would be able to overpower her by size alone.

  What would Summer Moon Rising do if Rebecca decided to return to the village?

  Dare she even try?

  Wolf Dreamer sighted down the shaft of his arrow, released his breath, and let the arrow fly. It was a good, clean kill, his first of the day, and yet his thoughts were not on the hunt, or the buck he had just brought down, but on Rebecca and the night he had spent in her arms. She could be carrying his son, even now.

  When he returned home, they would be married.

  Walking toward his kill, he smiled as he imagined Rebecca’s belly rounded with his child, Rebecca cradling his son in her arms.

  The sun was warm on his back as he gutted the deer, skinned and quartered it, then wrapped the meat in the hide. Rebecca had much to learn of living with his people. Her ways were not his, but she had a quick mind. Already, she knew several words in his language. Once she could speak his tongue, he hoped she would feel more at ease among his people, and they would be more at ease with her. They would accept her as one of them, in time.

  After loading the carcass onto his pack horse, he swung onto the back of his own mount and rode back to where the other warriors were butchering their own kills. One more day, and they would return home.

  He smiled at the thought of returning to the village, of Rebecca waiting for him there.

  Chapter 12

  Rebecca reined her horse to a halt alongside Summer Moon Rising. She had been apprehensive about following the Indian woman, but her fears had proven unfounded. Summer Moon Rising had said little on the way down the mountain and now their journey was at an end.

  Summer Moon Rising handed Rebecca the parfleche that held their food supplies. “The town is two days to the south,” she said, pointing down-river.