Emmet gave me a long look.
“You have been staying with Muraco’s cousin in his hut all winter. Does that mean you will become his woman?” he asked in response.
“It is different. Inteus is merely there to watch over me for Muraco. I have no intentions of doing anything with him, and haven’t, if that is what you are concerned about.”
“Maybe you should. It would make you less uppity!” he scowled.
I had remembered when Clinton had called me that and cringed. Emmet gave me a satisfied smirk.
“If Muraco is the one you want, why does he send Inteus to watch over you? Lomasi says he will become the next chief, and then choose her as his woman, since he could never ask a white woman to be his woman, once he was chief. I don’t think it would be considered acceptable to the tribe for a chief to have a white woman for his wife. If he took you as his woman now, they probably wouldn’t choose him as chief.”
My heart froze, because I started to realize that even if I agreed to become Muraco’s woman and stay with his tribe, it may interfere with his chances of becoming a chief of the village. I began to accept the fact that was the reason Muraco was acting so indifferent towards me, and that was the reason that Inteus was telling me to wait until Muraco learned if he was to become the next chief.
I cleared my throat, because it hurt too much, trying to hold back my tears.
“I suppose Lomasi will be happy if he becomes the next chief,” I mumbled.
“Which is why I would never ask her to be my woman or anything else beyond what we share now,” Emmet scowled.
“The only problem is, Muraco may not choose her. It is desirous for Indians to have a virtues woman as their wives. He knows the two of you have been together as a man and woman.”
“That is Lomasi’s problem. She was the one who was all over me, making me go crazy with the way she was touching me. She wanted me to take her, so I did. I have been enjoying being with her, but she always throws Muraco up in my face, so there is no way I will ever get serious about her. It is just a fun way to spend the winter.”
“So you will be coming back to the farm?” I asked anxiously.
“It is our home. Why wouldn’t I go back there? We should insist that Dorie join us as well. You can’t consider that God actually accepts that crazy Indian ceremony as a true marriage. Once spring gets here, she will gladly come back to the farm with us,” Emmet said hopefully.
“The Indians are almost starving, and I hear it is not going to get any better for them, since the buffalo herds are being depleted by the soldiers who travel through between the forts. They are probably killing all the buffalo on purpose, to keep the heathens down. Dorie won’t have our food supply to cook with anymore, and will be forced to subside on the kind of food the Indians use. Even that may not be there for them any longer, because the government keeps pushing the Indians farther and farther from where the buffalo herds roam. If the natives aren’t wiped out by the government, the bulk of the tribes will probably just end up starving to death. It is apparent they don’t know the first thing about farming, and they don’t seem to want to learn, either!”
Emmet’s expression looked grim, as he spoke.
“How can they farm, when we have pushed them out of any fertile land that would support farming, and if their land happens to have gold upon it, that is one more reason to take the land away from them! While I love our farm and being able to settle in such beautiful countryside, I feel sorry for the Indians, because we have been stealing what rightfully belonged to them.”
“It is called progress, Connie,” Emmet said almost unfeelingly.
It felt strange having him calling me by my real name.
“The Indians are backwards people,” he continued. “They refuse to expand into a modern world. They have become used to doing things like it has been done for centuries or longer. We are the modern people! We know how to take advantage of the land in a way the Indians never dreamed of. It would all go to waste, if the Indians had their way. America would be forced to stand still, if we couldn’t expand into new territory.
“The Indians complain that more and more white people are over running their land, but we have the same problem with immigrants constantly coming from overseas, flooding into the United States, wanting land to live on and gold to put in their pockets. You can’t stop progress, and the Indians are going to discover that soon enough!”
I thought he was probably right, but it didn’t make it any more ethical. I had to face the fact that we were nothing like the Indians, and because of that, I knew I could never be truly happy if I gave up what Emmet called modern progress. I didn’t want to go back in time and cook over a campfire, and make clothes from deer and buffalo hides. I liked my dresses, and soft underwear, and frilly petty-coats, that Muraco seemed to disapprove of, and think of being silly because wearing more than just a dress seemed inconvenient, and unnecessary.
I looked forward to the day I could afford a treadle sewing machine to sew my clothes on, and we could have regular plumbing in our farm house, instead of having to bring water up from the stream. My aunt and uncle lived in a modern house in Missouri, so I knew there was more than just scrounging out a life, if one put their mind to it. I was proud we did so well with our farm and the gold.
I thought about the gold in the false bottom of the wagon. When we returned to the farm, Emmet could go into Dodge, or some other place and buy more livestock, and possibly get me that sewing machine, I thought hopefully. Maybe he would run into a woman there that he could marry and bring back to the farm. If Muraco really loved me, he would have to come to the farm and learn a new way of life, I told myself, thinking it probably would never happen.
The hunting party came back with plenty of meat to last us through more of the winter. Nigel had a big grin on his face, and jumped down from his pony, describing to me how he got the first kill, and all the braves praised him for his skills. He told me he had cheated, though, because he had taken Clinton’s rifle with him, and didn’t use his bow and arrows. Now the other braves wanted rifles as well, he said.
Inteus looked pleased as he watched me cook the elk meat over our small fire, with the smoke escaping through a hole in the roof of the lean-to, positioned over the fire.
“It has been a good day,” he smiled, as I handed him his share of the meat.
“I talked to Emmet today,” I said, quietly.
I had already cried all the tears I could, while Inteus was away, but Inteus was so excited about the good hunt, he didn’t seem to notice my mood.
“He told me that even if I wanted to remain and become Muraco’s woman, if Muraco became chief it would be frowned upon, unless he took a woman from the tribe for his wife. Lomasi is hoping he will choose her, after all, once he becomes chief.”
Inteus looked up, and shrugged, as he chewed on his meat.
“There is no way to know if he will be chosen. There are many in line, wanting the honor. The great war chief Sitting Bear, could be chosen, but he is old, so they may not chose him. White Bear is younger, and he is a lot like Little Mountain. We will need a strong leader if we end up going to war with the white man.”
“You can’t go to war with the white man,” I scoffed. “Look what happened the last time that happened!”
“That was not war! That was a massacre! They rode into a peaceful village, when no one was prepared! They killed women and children! When the white man has to face a real war party, they will know they have been in a good fight with the red man.”
He gave me a fierce glare.
“White Bear is a strong warrior. He paints his body red, and his teepee red as well. He is someone the whites would be frightened to look upon! Kicking Bird is also a great warrior, who could become chief, only he wants to let the whites take over our decisions. He is willing to go along with their ways, and some of the tribe do not like that attitude. I have heard Lone Wolf is also a fearless warrior, and he would be able to lead our tribe into succes
sful battle. We talk of these things when we sit in the lodges and smoke the long pipe. Once Little Mountain dies, a good decision will be made.”
“I thought the Main Chief did not lead the wars,” I commented. “I thought the war chief did that?”
“While that is so, he must still guide the tribe in battle, and tell the war chief his wishes for the tribe, if they do go into war. He would oversee the war party from a distance and encourage them to go forward. Putting the Main Chief in danger would not be wise, since he must continue to lead the rest of the tribe, no matter the outcome of a battle.”
“It seems like a big responsibility, and I can see why Muraco would not even want me as his wife, if he became chief. He would have to go to war against my people. I could not support him in that, and he knows it.”
“You may be right,” Inteus conceded. “Maybe Lomasi would be his better choice,” he mumbled.
I think he was hoping that Muraco would be forced to take Lomasi as his wife, if he became chief, leaving me free to choose someone else, possibly him.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, shrugging. “I am going back to the farm, and Emmet said he was going back too. Soon I will be leaving all of this behind. Emmet is hoping to talk Dorie into coming back with us, and then things will get back to normal again.”
Inteus looked up at me. I could see pain in his eyes, because he knew I was telling him I would not need him to come help me on the farm, once I went back. I would have no need for him, and I knew he needed to feel like I wanted his help, if Muraco refused to come with me. However, I had given up any hope that Muraco would decide to leave his people in order to be with me. He knew would refuse to leave my farm so I could be with him. Therefore, I couldn’t blame him.
“The meat is good,” is all Inteus said, and continued eating.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It seemed we had waited so long for spring, that when it finally came, I was almost surprised. The last of the snow had melted, and small green plants were starting to push up through the now thawed sod. Leaves were budding on the trees along the river, and even though it still rained off and on, it had stopped snowing.
The hunting party was lucky to find enough game to help us get through the winter. All the supplies, that we had contributed, had been used up, though. I knew that if we didn’t get back to the farm that we would miss the planting season, because we still had to get supplies, and new stock, along with seeds, before we could even begin to plant the fields.
The house had not been lived in over the winter, and I was afraid that wild life may have gotten inside while we were away.
I was thinking that Emmet could take Bertha back to Dodge when he went in for supplies, but when I went to speak to her about it, I was shocked to discover that she chose to stay with the Indian man who had sheltered her over the winter. I noticed she no longer clung to her magazines, and she was actually looking healthy and happy. Maybe she was afraid to return to Dodge, for fear we would turn her in for having our father killed by her son, so perhaps it was better that she stayed with the Indians, I decided.
All I needed to do, was try to convince Dorie to come back with us, but she informed me that she was going to have a baby, and Tala wanted to raise his child the Indian way, teaching it the way of the Comanche. I knew that Nigel would not come back with us either, so that would only leave Emmet and myself to work the farm. The thought was rather daunting, but it was a sure thing, I was not going to remain in the village, which would eventually move to another camp sight, and I didn’t think Emmet would remain either.
I wanted a place to call home, not having to move when the grass got eaten down by the horses, and having to follow the herds of buffalo and other game just to be able to eat. I had missed our farm, even though the lean-to was warm and cozy, and I enjoyed my friendship with Inteus.
Muraco had barely spoken to me, after that time they hunted the Elk. I would see him looking at me from across the camp, but I usually ignored him, the same as he seemed to be ignoring me. If Inteus started to bring him up in our conversations, I would change the subject. I seldom dreamed at night, anymore, of how he used to hold me and touch me. Instead, I made plans of how I was going to fix up the farm, and all the things we would have to get before we could start farming again. I knew we had plenty of money to get whatever we wanted, because we not only had the gold, but also the silver twenty dollar pieces that Muraco had given me.
I though about how I planned to use that money to get back to Missouri in the spring. Now I had no reason to return to Missouri. I was sure my aunt and uncle were worried because they hadn’t heard from my father, or any of us over the winter.
“The weather is nice now,” I said to Emmet, as we stood outside my lean-to. “We should make plans to leave.”
Emmet nodded, almost reluctantly, I thought.
“Once we are gone, Lomasi can have Muraco again, and he can become the new chief of the village, when Little Mountain dies,” I continued. “We were told that we can leave in the spring, so we need to pack up the wagon, round up your horses and Lightening, along with Buttercup, and head back. We can leave the buggy horse for Nigel, if he wants it, but if we wait any longer, we won’t have time to go get supplies before planting time comes.”
“You are probably right,” he agreed. “I was anxious for this day to come, and now it seems strange that it is finally here,” he murmured. “We have to leave Dorie and Nigel behind, and I really don’t like that.”
“Dorie is with child, and you know Nigel will never come back to the farm. He likes his Indian life too much.”
“Guess it is going to be you and me, then,” he said with resignation in his voice.
“Maybe when you go to Dodge you will find someone there you could ask to marry you,” I suggested.
“Wouldn’t have time enough to get to know anyone there. I wouldn’t want to end up with someone like father did.”
“Speaking of such, Bertha has decided to remain here as well. I never would have believed it.”
“Good. I didn’t want to take her back to Dodge anyway. She is lucky we don’t turn her in.”
“I’ll tell Inteus that we wish to leave first thing in the morning,” I suggested. “You can tell Lomasi good-bye, and then we can both go and tell Dorie and Nigel we are going back. Maybe someday, Nigel will change his mind about coming back to the farm.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Emmet wandered away, looking deep in thought, and I was hoping he wasn’t having second thoughts about returning to the farm. I knew I couldn’t do it all on my own, if no one came with me, and even though Inteus had offered to help, he knew nothing about farming, and I would have to teach him everything.
Inteus did not look happy when I informed him we needed to leave.
“My life will be empty with no one to watch over, when you go,” he said sadly.
“You can always come to the farm to visit, when you are near the area,” I suggested.
“We are going to have to move even farther away,” he informed me. “There is going to be a big meeting with Little Mountain, and the leader of the Comanche and the white leaders. Your Grandfather of the land is very angry with us, and demands that we move farther from the wagon trails, towards the south. We will be giving up more land, even though it is said we will be able to keep our buffalo grazing land for hunting. When the great leaders come to Bluff Creek in the fall to meet with our people, we will then be assigned what lands we are allowed to roam on without the government pushing us out. They say we can have our own laws, and do as we please, and that there will be gifts of rifles and food and clothes, once the decision is made. Perhaps it will be best to be given even a small part of our land, than be put in a prison and have it all taken away from us.”
I put my hand on Inteus’ cheek.
“I am sorry, Inteus,” I mumbled. “I wish there was something I could do to help, but if things get really bad, you can always come to our farm. I am sure we could use e
xtra help.”
“If you had to leave alone, I would come to help you, but I am not a farmer. You will have your brother to watch over you now, so my help will not be needed. I will tell Muraco that you will be leaving in the morning,” he said, and then ducked out of the lean-to door.
I could tell he was upset, but he would never let on openly how he really felt about me going back to my farm.
That evening, the flap to the lean-to opened, and Muraco was standing in the doorway. I took in my breath. It was the first time he had been in the lean-to since he left me there with Inteus. His eyes were dark and smoldering, as he gazed at me, not speaking for a very long time. I was wondering if he was going to say anything at all, or just stand there staring at me.
“Inteus tells me you are leaving,” he said quietly, at last.
“It is what I always said I would do,” I told him truthfully.
“I may not ever see you again,” he murmured.
“Of course you will. Dorie is here, and so is Nigel. Inteus says you may be forced to stay in one place now, so you will be easy to find, if that is true. I will come visit my family and you someday. I would like to see Dorie’s baby when it is born.”
“By then, I should have many more responsibilities,” he told me.
“If you end up being the new chief, you will be too busy to bother thinking about me,” I offered.
“I can never put you out of my head. Your red hair will live in my brain forever,” he stated, taking a step closer to me.
“You will forget me eventually,” I insisted.
“Will you forget me too?” he asked.
I took in my breath. I knew I never would. I just shook my head no.
“You could still become my woman,” he offered in a low voice.
“Not if you become chief. It would be better if you took one of your own women. Lomasi is still hopping that you will choose her.”
“She has thrown her virtue away. As chief, I could not take her. But I may not become chief.”
Kiowa White Moon Page 21
