by Karen Kay
Was her dress soiled in the same way? Oh, dear. She hadn’t taken the time to look.
She frowned. She needed to wash her trousers, possibly her dress, too. In truth, she needed an overall bath. But right now, she’d settle for enough water to repair the damage to her clothing.
Which meant she was going to have to ask this man for his help…again. She pulled a face. The mere thought of having to do so was humbling beyond words.
Nevertheless, she knew she couldn’t go out in public in such a state.
She took a deep breath. And one more for courage. “Ah, Soaring Eagle,” she began, tossing her head back and raising her chin, if only to hide the fact that she knew her face was filling with color. “I—I,” she continued, “can’t dress completely without some water to wash. Could you…get some for me?”
She chanced a quick glance up at him, hating the feeling of being at his mercy. Especially when he glared at her.
“Wash?”
“Ah, yes. I’m afraid that my clothes are…stained, and I really need to—”
Without warning, he bent toward her, taking hold of her trousers. After a moment, he gave her a sheepish sort of look. “Are they ruined beyond repair?” he asked.
“No,” she responded, her voice softening. “I just need some water. That’s all.”
“And probably a bath too.”
“A bath would be lovely, but right now I would be happy if I could have enough water to wash these—and perhaps some soap if you have any.”
She glanced up at that moment to catch him gazing back at her, and was herself surprised. Gone was his anger, his indignation.
It seemed incredible but true. It was as though the unpleasantness between them had never happened. And this because she had a personal problem?
Yet instead of resentment, there was about him a look of gentleness. In truth, his expression at this moment reminded her of the tender care she had always assumed a man might give his…wife. And even his voice was warm when he said, “I could bring you water, but would it not be better if you went to the river where you could bathe?”
“I-I can’t,” she said, glancing away from him. Goodness, how embarrassing this was. “My, ah, trousers are too soiled to wear, and my skirt is too short to be worn in public without them.”
“I see,” he said as though he only now understood the real problem. “I could carry you to the stream.”
“Ah, no. That would draw attention to us, don’t you think?”
“Saa. All in the village are involved in the Medicine Pipe ceremony.”
She inhaled quickly, the sound of it loud to her own ears. It was though the mere mention of the ceremony pained her. She was missing it; missing her one and perhaps only chance to capture the ceremony on film. And this was the one reason she was even here.
She bit back tears of frustration and straightened her shoulders, making an effort to compose herself. She’d be darned if she’d let this man see her cry.
Collecting herself, at least enough so that her voice didn’t shake, she said, “Your offer is generous, Soaring Eagle, but just the water would be fine, I think.”
But she had reckoned without taking Soaring Eagle’s character into account. “Nonsense,” he said as he quickly drew on his own clothes and, stepping toward her, placed his arms around her and picked her up.
“Really, this is unnecessary. Please put me down.” She struggled against his hold.
However, with two large steps, he managed to reach the entrance before she could do any damage to him, and pulling open the flap, he stepped out into the darkness of an early morning.
He was right, she thought, as she glanced around the village. No one seemed to pay them any attention.
Briefly, she considered struggling out of Soaring Eagle’s arms, but decided against it. She wasn’t dressed for this, and modesty would not allow her to take a chance on drawing anyone’s notice. And so, like it or not, for the moment she accepted his embrace.
Quickly, he trod through the village. But before he had taken her very far, he asked, “Does your dress, the one you are wearing, also need washing?”
The question brought to mind too clearly her involvement with this man, her utter dependence on him while in this village, and Kali, completely flustered, clenched her hands into fists as though she might strike out at him. However, her voice was even when she said, quite honestly, “I—I don’t know. I haven’t looked at my dress closely. But the colors of the dress, and of my other things, are dark. Perhaps, even if soiled, they won’t show stains.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But I think that I will see that they are washed while you bathe, nonetheless.”
“Oh no. I can do it myself. Besides, these are the only clothes I have with me.”
“I will get you some other clothes. That way you can enjoy your bath without worry.”
“Oh.” She nodded. Was it too good to be true? “That…that would be kind of you.”
The impulse to relax against him was strong. His arms felt good around her, and she was tired. But Kali fought against the temptation. How could she give in when she now knew that her instincts about him had been correct? She couldn’t trust the man.
It did occur to her that he was helping her. It also crossed her mind that perhaps he deserved some thanks for the aid he was giving her. But Kali wasn’t completely charmed. No, and she’d be darned if she’d ever say thank you and Soaring Eagle’s name in the same sentence again.
“While you bathe,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, “I will set up your tripod near my father’s lodge, if you like.”
Kali slanted him a frown. “You will? You are still going to help me? But I thought you said that you are doubtful of me, of my intentions.”
“True, but I did give you my promise to help you. Besides, the council expects me to do this for you.”
“Oh, I see. Ah…” She hated to be made into a liar so soon, but before she could stop herself, the words tripped over her tongue and she found herself saying, “Thank you, Soaring Eagle.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied, arriving at their destination and depositing her at the bank of the river. Luckily, there were many trees nearby, providing a place to hide, should she need it. “Here,” he said, reaching a hand out to her, “give me your clothes.”
Kali gazed up into Soaring Eagle’s face. With only the starlight to see by, most of his features were hidden by the darkness. Even still, she yearned to stretch out her hand, to touch him, to comfort him.
What was happening to her, she wondered. Why, only a few moments ago, she’d been ready to feed this man to the lions. And now?
She said, “I’m afraid I won’t do that…” She coughed. “That is, I can’t possibly give you my clothes unless you turn your back.”
Dutifully and without a word, he spun around.
“Can I trust you not to peek?” she asked.
“You have no choice,” he said, a note of humor in his tone.
But Kali, hearing those words, read more into the phrase than perhaps he intended. Did he mean she should trust him about last night? About other things, too? Not likely. The evidence against him was too overwhelming.
She said, “And might I ask you for your word, that you will return these clothes to me in a timely fashion?”
“I promise that I will bring them back to you as soon as they are washed.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”
He shrugged. “You will have to decide that yourself. I have already told you what I will do.”
Not satisfied, but still not knowing what else she might ask, she said, “Very well. Then please leave here while I undress.”
“Leave?”
“Yes. How can I possibly disrobe when you are still here?”
She heard him chuckle, the sound of it maddening. “Soaring Eagle?”
He shook his head. “How can you undress when I am not in your sight?” he countered. “For I will have to return to get your clothing.”
> “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”
“While I’m here before you, you can ensure that my back is to you. If I leave, I must still stay close by to you in order to get your clothing and take it to my grandmother to wash.”
“Yes?”
“I could always hide and watch you.”
“Oh,” she said. “I see.”
“Besides, I have already observed you dressing once this morning, and I have beheld you with much less on than your dress.”
“Soaring Eagle!”
He chuckled. “Perhaps,” he said, “you might simply have to trust me to my word.”
Never! Although, even as they talked, Kali was doing as he suggested and was carefully removing her dress. Perhaps she was making too much of this. After all, she was no more than a few steps from the river. She would simply throw her dress over his shoulder and plunge into the water before he would have a chance to turn around.
It took but a moment to remove the garment, while she commented, “I don’t think I need trust you, Soaring Eagle. I might have to put up with you at the moment, but trust is something one earns. It is not given freely.”
“Is that so? In that case, maybe I’ll just turn around.”
Kali, who had at that moment released her dress, gasped. Quickly, she drew back the apparel and held it up. And not even the sound of his soft laughter calmed her.
“It is a shame,” he said, his backside still toward her.
“Shame?” she asked. “What’s a shame?”
“You did not need to resort to magic to have me, my wife. If you will remember back to the early evening—before your guide joined us—I was yours for the taking…”
“Oh!” The word was more reaction than speech. How dare he?
And what was that he had called her? Wife?
Well, really… She was no more his wife than…
All at once a feeling of warmth stole over her. And try as she might, Kali couldn’t deny that the thought of this man being her very own husband was stimulating…quite beyond belief…
Soaring Eagle made his way back to camp. He had a few questions that needed answering.
First and foremost, where was Gilda? Second, what magic had she worked on him and Kali, and why? Third, what was Kali’s involvement in it? Could he trust her?
Soaring Eagle was no fool. It didn’t take genius to realize that what had happened with Kali had been no mere dream. The spirits had married them, had ensured the marriage was consummated.
Why?
As he retraced his steps to the wedding tepee, he frowned. Whose lodge was this? No canvas tepee was this. Pure buffalo hides formed the covering, the skins bleached until they were white. They had also been painted in horizontal designs of blue and red, accented with yellow balls that looked like the sun, the moon or stars.
Odd that Soaring Eagle did not recognize the painter’s motif. Since most of his people adorned their tepees in a manner to honor their dreams, Soaring Eagle prided himself on being able to recognize each and every one of them. But not this one.
He shook his head, still puzzling. He needed answers. He would have them.
He pulled back the lodge’s entrance flap and stepped inside. His buffalo robe, his blanket and his weapons lay where he had set them. Kali’s tripod, camera, packs, flash sticks and other assorted items lay to the left of the entrance.
Outside of that, the rest of the furnishings were unfamiliar to him. This was no poor man’s lodge. Why, the inner tepee lining alone was splendidly spun in a checkered pattern of reds and blues, worth a fortune even by the white man’s standards.
There were other items scattered around the lodge that indicated grandness as well: several willow backrests, many more buffalo robes and more than twenty blankets, as well as beautifully crafted parfleches, which were set up against the lodge poles. Cooking utensils, pots and pans sat to the back of the lodge. And in the center were the dying embers of a fire; more firewood was stacked next to it, ready to be used, ready to serve.
Who had done this? His grandmother? Impossible. His father? His mother? Unlikely. Gilda? Possibly.
But if it had been the guide, where would she have obtained goods like these? With what revenue had she bought them? And perhaps more importantly, what reason did she have for doing all this?
Revenge seemed the most likely answer. Had his family, perhaps long ago, insulted hers? Did he know her?
Yet if she was motivated by revenge alone, why would her actions have brought him happiness? Unless… Had Kali or her father, perhaps, offended Gilda?
Thinking back, he recalled Kali mentioning that Gilda had brought her to Chief Mountain on that momentous evening. Also, Gilda had been present during the cattle stampede. And last night she had sung them to sleep; a night that would forever change their lives.
Aa, it seemed likely that Gilda was the source of their problems. The only thing he couldn’t understand was why.
Perhaps he should endeavor to learn more about her. Where was she from? How had she become Kali’s guide? Who were her family members? But probably most importantly, where was she now?
Was it possible that she’d done her worst—or maybe her best—and then left?
Soaring Eagle sighed. He was afraid he would find no answers here in this lodge—only more questions.
It was too bad that his father was busily engaged with other matters, for Soaring Eagle longed to seek his advice.
In the meanwhile, he had promised Kali that he would set up her equipment. He would do that as quickly as possible, then engage a woman—perhaps his grandmother—to wash Kali’s dress, her trousers and other articles of her clothing. Maybe his grandmother might even loan him a dress that Kali could wear, thus ending his obligation to her and gaining him some moments alone, in which he could further ponder this mystery.
Alas, he had best set about doing these things and then return to the river where he could question Kali more directly. That he would also have to field more of her disparaging remarks was probably a given.
He grinned at the thought. What a spitfire he had married. What a woman.
Chapter Seventeen
They knew not care, nor hunger, nor want of any kind.
—James Willard Schultz, My Life as an Indian
Victorian-raised Kali Wallace had never gone skinny-dipping in her life. Perhaps that’s why it felt so good. It was scandalous, to be sure, but oh, so lovely.
The water was brisk, cold, and at any other time might have sent her hurrying back to shelter, shivering. But not this morning.
This morning it felt soothing and refreshing—just right.
After Soaring Eagle had delivered his coup de théâtre, Kali had plunged herself into the river with all possible speed. The water had been a shock at first, but then as she had swum from one side of the river to the other and back again, her body had adjusted to the temperature.
Had he really called her his wife?
Kali wrinkled her brow. Did Soaring Eagle truly believe their dream had been a reality? It seemed an impossible concept, at best.
Their dream? Now he had her doing it too.
Kali knew that many of her contemporaries would laugh at the mere concept of their conversation, were she to disclose it. Spirits performing a marriage ceremony? She would be called foolish, no doubt. And perhaps she was.
But out here in Indian country, the idea didn’t seem quite as farfetched. It was as though the land itself were cloaked in mystery; a place where anything could happen; a country where the stuff of one’s secret longings came true.
Kali trembled, but it wasn’t from the temperature of the water. Things she didn’t understand were occurring here. Things were changing. She was changing.
And she wondered, was she awakening as though from a deep sleep? It seemed odd because if Kali were to let herself go—if only for a moment—she felt inclined toward believing the notion herself.
In truth, the dream had been that real.
> Or was she losing her sanity? Should she try to remember that none of this had happened when they had been awake? That the most likely story was that Soaring Eagle had seduced her, was merely playing a trick on her?
She pulled a face. Why didn’t that thought make her feel better?
Well, what did it matter? The truth was, she was no one’s fool, and she was no one’s wife, no matter what she—and apparently he, too—chose to believe.
Yet, a part of her protested, she couldn’t deny that it was an unusual thing to have happen…for them both to have shared such similar illusions at the same time…and to have awakened naked…and together.
But enough. It was time she accomplished what she had set out to do. With a firm but gentle stroke, as though to shake off her thoughts, she glided back to the camp side of the river, drifting slowly forward until she was able to set her feet on the pebbly bottom. Reaching down and grabbing a handful of sand, she proceeded to scrub her arms, her legs, as well as a few choice places where she hoped to erase the traces of her departure from innocence.
It was then that it occurred to her. Soaring Eagle hadn’t returned, and she had no clothes, no towel, nothing with which to cover herself.
Had he done this intentionally? Was this his idea of a joke?
She stood for a moment, silently accusing him of the worst and berating herself, all the while her temper beginning to boil. Oh, what she’d do to him as soon as he returned.
Suddenly she squealed. Something caught her by the heel, plunging her headfirst into the water. She came up coughing. But whether she was scared or just plain mad, she wasn’t sure.
She spun around, ready to dive underwater and face her attacker, only to be confronted by Soaring Eagle, who had surfaced and was grinning at her like a Cheshire cat.
“Oh.” She splashed him. He returned the gesture. “Stop that.”
“All right,” he said, still grinning, still splashing, “if you will.”
“Me?” she asked, returning the fight full-fledged. “You started this. Oh, quit it!”
He had submerged to catch her around her legs. He tickled her feet.
