White Dove

by Susan Edwards

  Jeremy sighed. James, too, had been furious, for the damages had cost them a month’s earnings. Still, the lecture and punishment he’d endured had been worth it to send Billy the Bully home with a black eye, several cracked ribs and a beauty of a split lip.

  The mean bastard had deserved it—and more—for what he’d done to Mary Beth. Jeremy had promised her he wouldn’t tell anyone how he’d found her in a field a few miles from home, her clothes torn and bruises covering her from being raped. She’d refused to tell the sheriff, and three months later, her family had up and left town. But Jeremy had never forgiven him.

  “You had good reason to beat the crap out of Billy. This time was just plain stupid, the dumbest stunt you’ve ever pulled. You should have known better.”

  Open-mouthed, Jeremy stared at her. “You knew?”

  Jessie sighed. “Yes. I saw Mary Beth a few days before they left town. I was hoping you’d tell me yourself but I respected your reasons for keeping quiet.” She reached over and covered his hand with hers. “I was actually proud of you for what you did.”

  Jeremy grinned. How like her to have been trying to goad him into spilling the truth all this time. “I’m glad you know. Last I heard she married some widower with two kids.”

  Jessie refused to meet his gaze.

  Recognizing the look, he sat up straight. “I’ll be damned. You had something to do with that, didn’t you?”

  She shrugged. “Heard that Mr. Pendergrass lost his wife. He always seemed kind and he needed help. I just suggested he hire Mary Beth to watch his children and cook for him.”

  For a moment, brother and sister shared a conspiratorial grin. Then Jessie reached forward and grabbed Jeremy in a fierce hug. “You could have been killed, you big lug. Don’t you ever do anything like this again!”

  The tears in her voice made Jeremy’s throat tighten. He held her tight, then eased back, his hands on her shoulders. “Aw, Jess, come on, don’t cry. Not good for the baby, you know. ’Sides, I don’t need Wolf angry at me, too!”

  Jessie pulled back and used a corner of her apron to dab at her eyes. “Seems I cry over the least little thing these days. But you really scared me this time, Jer.”

  “I know, and I’m really sorry.” Guilt for upsetting Jessie joined that of knowing his actions had left two orphan bear cubs.

  Fresh tears slid down his sister’s cheeks. “You must have been scared out of your wits. Good thing Dove was there.”

  Grimacing, Jeremy sat back, his arms crossed in front of him. “Yeah, the woman warrior saves the foolish white boy.” He couldn’t help his sharp edge of sarcasm. Everyone thought she was perfect, and maybe it was true. Maybe he just wasn’t good enough for her. After trying all winter to court her, gain her attention, he knew it was time to admit defeat.

  Jessie touched his knee. “Hey, it’s no crime to be skilled. I for one am thankful she was there to kill that bear, otherwise you’d—” Her voice stopped, choked with emotion.

  “—be dead?” I know.” He sighed, then groaned deep in his throat when one cub ran back across his lap, one paw digging into his privates. “I’m paying for it, though,” he wheezed, drawing up his knees to protect himself from further injury. The cubs were standing on their hind legs, front paws on his shoulders as they tried to climb over him. Their crying made conversation difficult. Out of desperation, he grabbed the bottle and pulled the loudest cub to him.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when the baby finally latched on to the makeshift nipple of the bottle and suckled. The other cub ambled over, shoved the first cub away and drank hungrily, milk dripping from the sides of her mouth down onto Jeremy’s jeans. He shook his head in resignation. They were already filthy.

  Silence fell between brother and sister as the cubs vied for the milk. Finally, the two bears each fell to the mat of straw, curled together in one corner. Jeremy set the bottle down and spoke while studying his hands.

  “Guess I was just being foolish thinking I could win Dove’s attention.”

  “Oh, Jeremy, that’s not foolish.” Fresh tears welled in Jessie’s eyes.

  “No? Then why do I feel like a fool for trying? I should’ve quit a long time ago. I’m not good enough for her—she’s made that perfectly clear. She wants a warrior. ‘A great warrior,’” he quoted, hating the phrase that Dove had thrown at him with irritating regularity. His lips and heart twisted.

  “Listen, Jeremy. You can’t be what you’re not. That’s what Ma always said.”

  Jeremy knew she was right. But that didn’t take away the ache in his heart.

  “Besides, you’re as good as she is. She’d be lucky to have you.” Jessie’s voice was firm with conviction.

  “Thanks, Jess, but that’s not true. She’s better than I am in everything.”

  Sighing with frustration, Jessie gave him a nudge with her foot. “Jeremy, she’s not better at everything. But this is her world. Just be yourself.”

  Be himself. Right. Hell, he didn’t even know who he was. Oh, he was the third-born Jones, but so what? He had no special skills, didn’t have lots of money or land. In short, he didn’t have anything to offer Dove. She didn’t need a big fancy house or herds of sheep or cattle. Fancy dresses and big jewels wouldn’t mean anything to her. He couldn’t even offer protection in this wild land. By killing that bear and saving his life, she’d proven that she didn’t need him or any other male, warrior or white.

  So what could make her interested in him? Jeremy stared at the far corner of the stall where a mouse rustled in the hay. He kicked some hay at it, and it scurried off.

  Jessie tapped him on the knee to get his attention. “Hey, I brought you some food.” She stood to fetch the tray.

  He flinched and shook his head. “I appreciate that, Jess, but I’m not hungry.” Especially if it was bear stew.

  Jessie read his mind and punched his arm. “Hey, I’m not totally insensitive, you clod.” She stood and lifted the cloth. “I brought some bread and cheese.”

  Her thoughtfulness warmed him inside, but the thought of eating made him sick. He stared at the cubs curled next to him, clinging to each other in sleep. His depression deepened. “Thanks, Jess. I’m really not hungry.”

  “Okay, I’ll leave it in case you change your mind. See you in the morning.”

  He watched her struggle to her feet and thought how far they’d all come. Just a few years before, Jessie wouldn’t have been caught dead in a dress. And he’d never pictured her as a mother—not his little sister who spent her days running wild, another wild Jones to torment the town of Westport.

  Life had a funny way of changing, though. For all of them. Except him.

  “Jess?”

  She paused. “Yeah?”

  Folding a piece of straw, he spoke the words he dreaded. “It’s time for me to move on.”

  Silence met his announcement. “What are you talking about? Is this about Dove?”

  He smiled weakly. “No. Yes.” Raking his fingers through his hair, he tried to sort his thoughts. “Hell, I don’t know. I just know I can’t stay here.”

  “Why not?” His sister stood over him with her hands on her hips.

  Jeremy studied her, noted that she was poised for a fight. “Who are you, Jess?”

  At his question, she tossed her hands up and paced. “What kind of question is that? You know who I am.”

  “My point is that you know who you are. You’re not just my sister, or Wolf’s wife. Or just a mother. You’re a fierce protector when it comes to women being beaten by drunks—”

  “Anyone would have stopped that man from beating on his wife and son.”

  “But you’re the one who took action. You’re also teacher to all these kids. You’re many things, Jess.”

  “What are you getting at, Jeremy?”

  “You hav
e a life. One you carved out for yourself. As both James and Jordan have done.” He paused. “Who am I, Jess?”

  “You’re my brother—”

  “I’m ‘that Jones boy.’ That’s what everyone has always called me. I’m the one who gets into trouble. I’m the one with no sense.”

  “Come on, Jer, that’s not true. Jordan’s temper is as bad as yours. And mine,” she added. “Besides, you beat up Billy for Mary Beth.”

  “Yeah, but only you know about that. And that’s fine,” he added. He’d never brag about it just to prove himself to others. “But that’s just one time. One incident. People always turned to James and Jordan when they needed extra help. No one ever saw me as anything except that young Jones boy who got into mischief.”

  He tossed down the mangled piece of straw he’d been folding and indicated his surroundings. “This is your home, and Wolf’s. Here, I’m just your brother. Nothing special. No one really needs me, and I want to be needed, Jess—for more than just chores around the house or barn. I came because of Dove. When Dove leaves, there won’t be any reason for me to stay.”

  Tears welled in Jessie’s eyes. “You can stay for me, you know.”

  Jeremy attempted a smile. “Yeah, but you don’t need me, Jess. Not really. You have Wolf—and Rook. You have your life. I need to find mine.” As he said the words, he knew it was time. He’d always relied on others to look out for him, to tell him what to do, when to do it and even how.

  “Oh, Jer. Where will you go?” Worry shone in her eyes.

  “I don’t know, Jess. Back to Westport, maybe California. Hey, sis, don’t worry, I’m not leaving yet. Got a couple of cubs to raise first.” When she tried but failed to stifle a yawn, he pointed to the gate. “Go on, get to bed. I’m fine here.”

  Jessie let herself out of the stall. She grabbed her lantern and moments later, the barn door closed, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the cubs. The more he thought about it, the more he knew the time had come for him to leave.

  The long, skinny, grotesque shadow of a mouse distracted him for a moment as it ran along the top rail. Jeremy watched it slide beneath the cloth to find the cheese but he didn’t care. “I really messed up big-time today,” he whispered to the shadows, his fingers digging into the fur of one cub.

  He grimaced. Though soft as silk, it was full of dust, dirt, straw and God knew what else. He pulled his hand away and touched thumb to forefinger. They stuck together. Great. The babies were coated with honey. Jeremy wiped his hand on the hay. Straw stuck to his fingers. He swore. The harsh exclamation woke the cubs, who scrambled around the stall, which prompted another long, lengthy, vulgar curse.

  Damn. What else?

  Without warning, the lantern gave one last flicker and died.

  * * *

  Dawn kissed the pewter-washed horizon. Like a woman’s blush, the rosy tint radiated outward as the pale morning light raced across the crystalline heavens. The brightening sky brought forth a stirring of movement: the flutter of wings and a soft chirp shared between mated meadowlarks, the wide yawn of a newborn fawn, and the swish of a ground squirrel’s tail.

  Perched on a rock at the river’s edge, Dove observed the squirrel’s delight in romping over the soft carpet of grass, leaves and newly blooming flowers. She moved, and the small creature zipped down his hole. Dove smiled weakly at the bright-eyed animal peering over the mound of fresh earth. “I have no bow and arrow this morning. You are safe, little pispiza.” As if it understood, the squirrel stood on its hind legs and resumed his business of finding food.

  Normally Dove took great delight in the small creatures of the world, but today her heart and mind lay in turmoil. Her night and dreams had been tormented by the events of the day: the fright of watching Jeremy trying to kill the bear, her own stand against the magnificent animal, and the kiss spawned by high emotions. All night she’d tried to convince herself that her response had been caused by uncontrolled relief.

  But she knew the truth. She’d wanted him to kiss her. What she didn’t know was why. To prove once and for all how incompatible they were? She moaned and buried her head in her hands. Her response proved just how drawn to him she truly was—for whatever reason.

  She touched her lips. To her surprise, his kiss hadn’t been anything like she’d expected. It had been more. Had she been thirsty, she’d have wanted more to drink. Had she been hungry, she’d have needed more to eat. Had she been tired, sleep would have fled beneath the energy of his kiss. It had left her hungry, thirsty and eager for more. Staring out across the stream, she knew something within her had changed. She’d lost control.

  Dove drew in deep breaths of cool, crisp morning air. Winter had finally given way to spring. In just a few days she, along with the children, would be returning home to their people. This should have been good. It would remove her from Jeremy’s confusing presence.

  The children were excited, but Dove could not bring herself to be. She’d be returning to parents who had betrayed her. Last fall, her father had told her she had to marry by the next Sun Dance. He was tired of dealing with unhappy suitors and the grumbling within the tribe each time she refused an offer, no matter how sincere or generous.

  Her father’s words echoed in her head. “Choose a warrior by the next Sun Dance, daughter, or I will choose for you.”

  Dove kicked a large rock, sending it splashing into the water. She winced in pain. She hurt—her toe from the rock, her heart at her father’s betrayal. For the first time in her life, he refused to listen to her. Even when she’d reminded him of her grandmother’s vision.

  Seeing Eyes had counseled her to grow up brave and strong, to be worthy of the man who’d one day claim her for his mate. Dove had been so excited, she’d asked her grandmother if her future husband would be a great warrior. One who also was brave and wise. A chief like her father had been and her brother now was.

  Her grandmother had smiled and said he’d be a wise man, one who followed his heart. Though Dove had only been four winters, she’d taken those words to heart and had sought to make herself worthy of her warrior. But her grandmother had never made public her vision for her youngest granddaughter. Everyone believed she now waited for a man who didn’t exist. Some thought she just didn’t want to marry and lose her freedom. No one understood that Dove needed a mate whom she could look up to, one who would challenge her to be the best and, most importantly, accept her without being threatened.

  Staring up into the blue heavens, she held her hands high. She closed her eyes, bringing into focus the hazy image of her grandmother. “I followed your instructions, Unci. Am I not worthy? Have I not proven that I am strong, brave, clever and kind? I spent my life learning to be a warrior so that I could be worthy of this great warrior of whom you spoke. Yet he still does not appear. Where is he? Why does he not come for me?”

  For as long as she could remember, Dove had been driven to prove herself. Had she dreamed her grandmother’s words? Could it have been her imagination? She no longer knew. Dropping her arms, she stared at the small inlet where the water turned calm.

  Stopping to watch the white-foamed water swirl past, Dove feared that her detractors were right, that she held out for an impossible dream. No warrior wanted for wife a woman his equal. Instead of viewing her accomplishments with admiration, they all sought to bury hers with their own. She clenched her fists. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a loving mate or children, but she craved her freedom more. She feared her husband would relegate her to the tipi to spare his pride.

  A breath of wind rippled the surface of the water. Rings and wrinkles formed a wavy image. Her grandmother. Dove gasped and fell to her knees, but as quickly as it appeared, it faded away into a heart shape.

  “How will I know this warrior, Unci?”

  “Follow your heart, child.”

  Sitting back on her heels, that long-ago co
nversation came to her as if just yesterday. Staring at the fading ripples of water, Dove knew her grandmother had reminded her to follow her heart. Trouble was, she didn’t know her heart. Not really.

  Once more she thought of Jeremy. Images pushed at her mind: him attempting to battle the bear, the blood on his body, the look of utter terror on his face that had matched her own fear when she’d come upon him. He was crazy, a fool. Over and over she reminded herself of that.

  He’d spent the entire winter trying to make her take notice of him. She had. Just as she’d noticed him three years ago. Since that first meeting, his boyish good looks had hardened into the strong lines of manhood, his easy laughter still made her grin, and she still loved to ignite his quick temper—just for the sheer pleasure of watching him come alive with emotion.

  Unlike the warriors in her tribe who took great pride in keeping tight control on their emotions and thoughts, Jeremy did everything whole-heartedly and with great energy and devotion—even getting into trouble or finding ways to rile her. And, if she really wanted to be honest, she looked forward to their battles of wills.

  But in the end, none of that mattered. They came from different worlds, had different needs. Oh, how could she be attracted to someone so wrong for her? He wouldn’t last one day among her people. And while she had enjoyed living here with her brother, she longed for the smell of pines that came from the Paha Sapa, the black hills and surrounding prairie where the Lakota roamed.

  She yearned for the exhilarating freedom that came from riding with the wind across the golden beauty of wide-open plains. She craved the sight of bright stars twinkling down on her as she fell asleep, and the warm light of Wi when she woke.

  Most of all, she missed her family. Her people. Her tribe. The daily rituals that spoke of belonging.

  Though she knew in her heart Jeremy was wrong for her, she found herself wishing it were possible. The prospect of living through another summer spent dealing with unwanted suitors like Waho dampened her eagerness to return to the land she loved.