Morning Song heard Joanna’s voice and awakened. She rubbed her eyes in disbelief when she saw Fosset.
Joanna smiled brightly at her. “Most probably we will never come to know what Fosset is doing here, but he has found us, Morning Song! We no longer have to walk—we can ride the rest of the way home!”
Both girls patted the white horse while he tossed his tangled white mane, glad for the attention.
“Fosset must have been through a great ordeal, too. He has scratches on his forelegs, and he is little more than a bag of bones,” Morning Song observed. “How do you suppose he ever found us, Joanna?”
“If he could talk, he would tell us,” Joanna said, laying her face against her horse’s matted coat. “I am just grateful that he found us. I believe your god and mine have been guiding our footsteps, and now they have sent Fosset to us when they knew we could go no farther.”
“If Fosset can make it, we shall be home soon!” Morning Song cried.
Later, Morning Song dug the snow away from the base of a tree so Fosset could eat some of the remaining green grass underneath. Joanna and Morning Song each ate one of the cooked trout, and then they both mounted Fosset.
Their hearts were light as they rode swiftly toward the village, which they knew they would find if they followed the winding Milk River.
Windhawk stood outside his lodge with his face raised to the sky. Inside, he felt dead. How could he go on day after day without seeing his beloved? Even though he had seen her charred remains, he still couldn’t accept the fact that she was dead. There was no meaning to life now that the world was void of Joanna’s laughter. He thought of his little sister who had brought so much joy into everyone’s life. Bitter resentment burned in his heart! He had not fully satisfied his revenge against the Cree.
He glanced across the village and saw Tag talking to Farley. The boy was all he had to remind him of Joanna. He would teach Tag all the things he would have taught his own son. He hoped the time would come when Tag would lose his restlessness and be content to stay with him. He had lost his beloved Joanna; he couldn’t bear to think of her brother leaving him, too. He had never understood the thing that pulled at Tag. Perhaps soon, Tag would be at peace within himself.
His mind refused to dwell on the fact that Joanna had been carrying the long knife’s child when she had died.
Feeling a tightening in his throat, he walked away from his lodge, thinking he would sleep in the old trapper’s tipi that night. He did not want to stay in his own lodge, knowing that Red Bird would be there.
When he reached Tag and Farley, the boy moved aside so Windhawk could sit on the log beside him while Farley handed the chief a hunk of deer meat.
The three males who had loved Joanna the most sat in silent companionship, feeling their shared loss.
Tag watched as the dying rays of the sun painted the sky with a soft, rosy glow. He remembered Morning Song’s dark, laughing eyes and felt a sadness deep in his heart. If he closed his eyes, he could hear her voice. It was as if he had lost two sisters instead of one. No, Morning Song was not his sister. She was…she was…he loved her not as a sister but as a…? He felt confused. He couldn’t imagine a world without Morning Song. She had touched his heart, and he loved her.
He glanced at Windhawk and saw the misery in his dark eyes. He was hurting, Tag thought. Windhawk, who had the strength to lead his fierce warriors and to make his enemies quake in fear, had a lost look about him. Tag wondered if Windhawk would ever get over the loss of Joanna.
Stalking Wolf and Big Hand gazed down at the Assiniboin village. They had several friends among the young braves of the tribe and hoped they would welcome them. Riding down the hillside, they entered the village while many of the braves closed ranks about them.
Big Hand felt fear, not knowing how they would be received. He questioned Stalking Wolf’s judgment in coming to the Assiniboin village.
Stalking Wolf dismounted and stood unafraid before the man whom he knew to be the chief. “Greetings to our friends of the Assiniboin tribe. My friend, Big Hand, and I come among you seeking friendship.”
River Walker, the chief of the Assiniboin, studied the two young braves for a moment before he spoke. “Why have you come among us?” he asked at last, as his eyes narrowed. Big Hand felt uncomfortable under his close scrutiny.
“My friend, Big Hand, and I were sent away from our tribe, because Windhawk destroyed our village while we were away on a hunt.”
River Walker gazed hard at Stalking Wolf before he spoke. “I have always found your father, Horse Runner, to be a wise and noble chief. He would not banish you for being away on a hunt. You must tell me the real reason you have come among my people,” the chief said, knowing Stalking Wolf spoke only half-truths.
Stalking Wolf looked at his friend and saw his eyes were wide with fright. He decided it would be best to tell the truth. “Our village was destroyed because we took Windhawk’s wife and sister as our captives.”
River Walker’s eyes narrowed. “I believe you do not speak the truth. No one would dare take Windhawk’s woman if he valued his life.”
“I speak the truth. His woman is of the white skin and has hair the color of burning flames.”
River Walker nodded his head. “I have heard this. Where is the woman now?”
Stalking Wolf lowered his eyes. “We abandoned her and Windhawk’s sister, fearing his revenge.”
River Walker was thoughtful for a moment. “Why have you come to my village? Why do you not go home to your own people, the Cree?”
“My father will not allow me to return to my village until I have taken the life of Windhawk to avenge my brother’s death. I want only his life…if you help me, you will have the scalp of Windhawk to hang from your lodgepole, so you can show everyone that Windhawk is not invincible!” Stalking Wolf lied, knowing he would need the scalp of Windhawk to take back to his father. He would worry about the promise to River Walker when, and if, he took Windhawk’s scalp.
River Walker smiled. “What makes you think you can slay Windhawk? I have heard it said that nothing can harm him. Are you such a great warrior that you can do this deed? I do not see anything special about you.”
“I will kill Windhawk! This I swear on the body of my dead brother!”
River Walker looked from Big Hand to Stalking Wolf. “Avenging your brother has no value to me…but I would give much for the scalp of Windhawk. He and his Blood Blackfoot spit upon my people.”
“Will you help us, then?” Stalking Wolf asked hopefully, knowing that there were many men who craved the scalp of the mysterious, elusive Windhawk!
Chapter Nineteen
It was the twilight hour, and the sky was aglow with the deep purple of the oncoming night, when Fosset approached the Blood Blackfoot village. Joanna and Morning Song had run out of food two days back. They were barely conscious as the giant white horse walked unimpaired into the village.
As strange as it seemed, not one village dog barked at the appearance of Fosset; instead they walked beside the horse, wagging their tails.
Farley was the first to see the strange sight. He was just coming out of his tipi to empty a pan of water when Fosset walked in front of him. At first he thought he was imagining things when he saw Joanna and Morning Song slumped forward on the horse. He stood as if rooted to the spot, unable to speak or move.
Sun Woman was the next to observe Fosset moving by with his precious burden. The horse passed by her—out of habit and instinct, he was heading toward the chief’s lodge. Sun Woman placed her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming out. She saw Joanna and Morning Song and thought she was seeing their spirits.
Soon many people were gathered outside their tipis to witness the strange phenomenon. They were silently watching, but none would dare approach the horse.
Windhawk was sitting in his lodge stretching a buffalo hide over his shield when he heard his people murmuring just outside. Putting his shield aside, he walked out to see what was happ
ening.
As Fosset approached the young chief, Windhawk stiffened. Great Napi, he thought, Joanna’s and Morning Song’s spirits had ridden their ghost horse back from eternity! He couldn’t see his beloved’s face, since she was lying forward with her face buried in Fosset’s mane, but he knew her eyes would be closed in death. Had Joanna felt his pain and come back to take him to join her in the spirit world? Windhawk felt silent rage that his beloved’s spirit should have to walk the earth without finding her way to the spirit world where she would find peace. A great silence moved over the crowd as everyone watched the awesome spectacle in disbelief.
Fosset almost stumbled, but he quickly recovered, and took the last, few faltering steps that brought him in front of Windhawk.
Tag was the first one to react. He came out of Farley’s tipi, curious about the strange way everyone was behaving. His eyes followed Farley’s, and he saw Fosset standing in front of Windhawk’s lodge. Seeing the two figures slumped forward on Fosset’s back, he didn’t stop to ponder, but raced across the village and grabbed Fosset’s reins. Reaching up, he took Joanna’s head and raised it.
Windhawk recovered immediately when he saw that Joanna and Morning Song weren’t spirits as he had thought—but were alive! The people began murmuring when Windhawk stepped forward and lifted Joanna’s slight body into his arms and held her tightly against him. He had never known such happiness, as his heart lightened and seemed to take wings—his beloved was alive! Napi, in his great compassion, had released the Flaming Hair’s spirit and sent her back to him!
He rested his cheek against Joanna’s, feeling too choked to speak. He watched happily as Tag lifted Morning Song from Fosset’s back.
Sun Woman now rushed forward with tears of joy streaming down her face. She was not yet sure that her eyes weren’t deceiving her.
“Bring them to my tipi,” she said. Her hand was shaking as she brushed the dark hair out of her daughter’s face. She caught Windhawk’s eyes and saw the confusion she felt mirrored in her son’s glance.
Windhawk stared down at Joanna and watched as her eyes opened slightly, then drifted shut again. She was too weak and exhausted to know that Windhawk held her in his arms or that Fosset had brought her and Morning Song safely home to the Blackfoot village.
Windhawk entered his mother’s tipi and laid Joanna down on a soft buffalo robe. Kneeling over her, he pushed the matted red-gold hair out of her face. Laying his head to her chest, he felt the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. Running his hand over her body, he pulled back when he felt the swell of her stomach. Conflicting emotions battled for domination of his mind. He was elated that Joanna was still alive, but he was tormented by the fact that she was going to have the long knife’s child.
Standing up, he moved to his little sister and knelt down beside her, and, taking her hand, raised it to his cheek. He would deal with his troubled feelings later; right now, he was too grateful that Joanna and Morning Song were alive to dwell on anything unpleasant.
Farley pushed his way through the crowd of people at the entrance of Sun Woman’s lodge. Once he was inside, he went directly to Joanna. The old trapper gazed down at Joanna, thinking she had been through hell from the looks of her. She was nothing more than skin and bones.
Tag dropped to his knees and gathered Joanna close to him, thinking that once again his sister had cheated death to return to him.
“How can I tend my daughters with all of you getting in my way?” Sun Woman said loudly, feeling overwhelming joy that her daughters were not dead. She shoved the three men toward the door, and Windhawk saw the glow on her face. Sun Woman was her old self again, ordering everyone around and sweeping them out of her way.
Windhawk stood in front of his mother’s tipi and raised his head to the sky. Closing his eyes, he sent a prayer of thanks to Napi. Catching Tag’s eye, he smiled brightly at the young warrior.
“This is a good day. Your sister and mine have somehow cheated death!”
Tag was too choked up to answer, so he nodded.
“You reckon they’ll be all right?” Farley asked, forgetting to speak in the tongue of the Blackfoot.
Windhawk raised a dark eyebrow. “They would not have come so far to die now. Napi is not revengeful,” Windhawk answered him in Blackfoot.
“I do not understand how they could be alive, Windhawk,” Tag said. “You and Farley both said that you saw their dead bodies.”
Windhawk shook his head. “We saw what we thought were their bodies. When Joanna and Morning Song are stronger, they will answer all our questions.”
Red Bird stood at the entrance of Windhawk’s lodge, her eyes burning with hatred! How was it possible, she wondered, that the white-faced one had returned? She went back inside and stared into space. She would not allow the white woman to move back into the chief’s lodge. Did she, Red Bird, not share his lodge now? True, she did not yet share his mat, but she was determined that soon she would go to Windhawk and offer herself to him. She had done everything to get him to notice her, but so far he acted as if she didn’t even exist. He would eat the food she prepared for him and sleep on the mat she kept clean for him, but not once did he come to her mat, nor did he ask her to come to his.
Red Bird knew he had been grieving for the white woman, and she had thought that, in time, he would put his grief aside and turn to her. If she didn’t do something quickly, the white one would be back in his lodge and she, the daughter of Chief Yellow Wing, would be out!
Her eyes flared hatred for Flaming Hair. Somehow, she would keep Windhawk for herself. She was not her father’s daughter for nothing!
That night, Red Bird didn’t get to put her plan into action because Windhawk didn’t return to his lodge. Several times she went to the opening and saw Windhawk, Tag, and the old trapper sitting before Sun Woman’s tipi. She knew they were waiting to find out how the two girls were.
Once Red Bird was overcome with curiosity and went to Sun Woman’s tipi, offering to help the old woman, but Sun Woman sent her away.
Joanna awoke to feel a cool hand on her forehead. Opening her eyes, she saw Sun Woman smiling down at her.
“Are you feeling stronger, my daughter?”
Joanna clutched Sun Woman’s hand. “Morning Song! How is Morning Song?” she asked in a weak voice.
“She is at this moment enjoying a slice of deer meat and some of my berry cakes. I will get you some also,” Sun Woman said gently, helping Joanna to sit up.
Joanna reached for the wooden bowl her mother-in-law handed her and took a big bite of the delicious meat. She smiled at Morning Song when the young girl came over to her mat to sit beside her.
“We made it, Joanna! The odds were against us, but, together, we survived!”
“Yes, my little sister. Nothing could stop us once we made up our minds to find our way home. We are an unbeatable team, are we not?”
Suddenly the tipi flap was pushed aside and Windhawk entered. His eyes went first to Joanna and then to his sister. “If the two of you are feeling strong enough, I have many questions to ask you.”
Joanna feasted her eyes on Windhawk’s face. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could hardly breathe. She could tell nothing of what he was feeling by looking into his dark eyes. She wanted more than anything to throw herself into his arms as he moved to her side and sat down. If only he knew how the thought of seeing him again had kept her alive and had given her the strength to go on against impossible odds!
“You are feeling well?” he inquired of both girls, but looking at his sister.
“We are well,” Morning Song answered.
He nodded solemnly, without looking at Joanna. Now that Joanna was awake, he could not bring himself to look at her. He didn’t want to see her stomach swollen with another man’s child.
“Tell me all that occurred,” he asked of Morning Song. “I do not yet understand why you are still alive.”
His sister began with the night of the raid on She Who Heals’s tipi by the Cree warriors
and ended with Fosset’s finding her and Joanna beside the Milk River, more dead than alive.
Not once while Morning Song was talking did Windhawk look at Joanna. Joanna waited for him to turn to her and really see her. She had been so afraid she would never see him again. She lowered her head sadly. He wasn’t glad to see her. She had hoped if she returned safely to the village that she and Windhawk would be able to talk and straighten out all their misunderstandings. Apparently, that was not to be the case. If he truly loved her, he would allow her to explain to him about the baby. If he cared about her, wouldn’t he show some sign of joy that she was still alive?
Raising her head, she found Windhawk looking at her. His dark eyes were velvet-soft, and she caught something else in the dark orbs that lasted so fleetingly she couldn’t define it. Joanna watched as his eyes moved to her stomach, and then he looked back to his sister.
“I am glad that you are safely home, little sister. I was sorely grieved thinking you were dead. My heart is filled with gladness to see you again.” He stood and left abruptly, without once saying anything directly to Joanna.
Joanna caught Morning Song’s eye and read the sadness written there.
“My brother is glad you are home, too, Joanna. I do not know why he is acting so strangely, but I saw from his eyes that he still loves you.”
“If he was demonstrating his love, it is a love that I can easily do without. I do not need…nor will I beg for his love,” Joanna said, feeling crushed by Windhawk’s coldness toward her.
Tag and Farley entered the tipi, and Joanna pushed her hurt and confusion aside. She hugged her brother tightly. It had been so long since she had last seen him, and she could see a great change in him.
“Joanna…I…love you,” he blurted out after kissing her on the cheek.
“I know, Tag. Words are not necessary. I know how you feel.”
“I thought…we all thought…”
“Yes, I have been told,” Joanna broke in.
Savage Winter Page 22
