White Dove

by Susan Edwards

  Well, the Joneses had shown them. And since then, none of the Jones boys had had much use for church. They didn’t trust people who talked about doing good, yet whose actions caused pain.

  Yet now, after living with the Sioux, he felt a renewal of his beliefs. The Sioux weren’t trying to impress one another with their devotion. They lived by their principles, from the respect they gave every living creature, to the way they dealt with one another. Religion didn’t have lines or boundaries followed one day but not the next. Without a doubt, Jeremy knew that if you took away their belief in the spirits inhabiting their world, you lost what made the Sioux the strong, loving, fierce people they were.

  Realizing how much he had, and how happy he was, Jeremy offered up his own thanks. Then he prayed. God. Lord. Wakan Tanka. He didn’t think a name made a difference. He was there. Everywhere. In everything.

  As he didn’t know much of the Sioux way of addressing Wakan Tanka, he simply prayed from his heart, asked for strength and guidance in doing what was right. The thought of killing bothered him. But if it came to being killed or saving one of the others, he knew he’d do whatever he had to. That, too, was different out here. It was something he had to adjust to, to find his own balance between what he’d always been told was right and wrong.

  Survival among the Sioux took on a whole new meaning, as did the serving of justice. There were different rules for a different life, yet the Sioux did not kill just to kill—not even animals for sport. Killing was a part of life, and only done to survive.

  Was it much different in his world? Criminals were hanged. Justice was decided by a judge, carried out by the law. Sighing, he accepted that the law of the land for one race could not be the same for another. He just hoped that when faced with the decision on whether to kill, he’d make the correct choice, one he could live with. When the call came to mount up, he joined the rest. They rode for a long time.

  In the early hours of the morning, the warriors dismounted. Two crept away, concealed by the darkness. When they came back, the warriors gathered around. They’d found the Crow camp.

  Striking Thunder gave instructions. The night was dark, the scattered clouds hiding much of the night sky from them. Each warrior mounted and faded into the darkness to surround the enemy. Jeremy held his breath and waited for his own command. He couldn’t see the tipis, but knew they were close by the sounds of horses snuffling in the night. Somewhere, a dog barked.

  “We must move before our enemy is alerted to our presence. You will remain here.” Striking Thunder gave him a hard look.

  Jeremy stared in disbelief. “You think I can’t do this.” His frustration that he’d been allowed to come, but not participate, made him argue with the chief.

  Striking Thunder mounted and stared down at him. “In your vision, what did the Owl-woman tell you?”

  Frowning, Jeremy thought. Then it dawned on him. “She said I was not to fight.”

  “You will heed her words.”

  “But she said I was needed.”

  “Did she say you would be needed here, this night?”

  “No, but—”

  “You will know when the time comes. And you have not completed your training; I cannot allow you to ride into battle unprepared.”

  Jeremy longed to argue further but didn’t. This man was his chief.

  Striking Thunder took three arrows from his quiver and wrapped grease-coated fabric around the shaft, near the tip. He handed them to Jeremy, struck a sulfur match against a rough rock he carried, then lit each arrow. When the flame engulfed the cloth, he rode off with them toward the village.

  From his position, Jeremy saw the arrows flaming through the sky. The three fires grew. The arrows had found their marks: the enemy’s tipis. Screams and shouts followed. He saw the shadowy figures on horseback riding into the confusion, arrows and knives ready. From his place in the tall grass, Jeremy mounted his horse and watched, ready in case he was needed. His fingers gripped his bow; his knife was strapped to his thigh. He was ready in case the action came toward him.

  He heard the screams of women and children, saw them running in the glow of the fires. He held his breath, relieved when the Sioux warriors ignored them. Off to his right, he spotted one of the Lakota warriors in hand-to-hand combat with the enemy. Holding the reins, he was ready to ride to help. When the Crow warrior fell, he felt a stab of disappointment. Long Feather’s shrill victory scream sounded. The warrior jumped back on his horse and rode toward the center of the village.

  Smoke and flames danced high. The wind shifted, sending billows of smoke toward him. Deciding to move so he could continue to watch the action, he froze when he saw the shape of an owl rise out of the smoke, flying toward him. She turned and flew away from him. Back and forth, as if telling him to follow.

  “I can’t,” he tried to tell her. “I have to stay here.” But the more he considered, the more he knew he had to follow the owl. Hadn’t she said he was needed? What if the time was now?

  * * *

  Beth Ann woke to screaming and smoke. The tipi was on fire. Watching her captors—the man, woman and their children—run out, she glanced around wildly for her mother, but she wasn’t there. Their master had sent her to another tipi. She grabbed Jane and ran out the door.

  “Mother,” she screamed, backing up when a warrior rode past, nearly knocking her over. Behind her, she felt the heat of fire. Their tipi had been set aflame. Picking up Jane, she started running. Away. Anywhere.

  Around her, women screamed. In their haste to get away, they shoved past. She fell, rolled with Jane, then scrambled to her knees, clutching her baby sister. Tears streaked her face and fear paralyzed her.

  “Beth Ann, go. Run!” Her mother appeared, grabbed Jane and pulled Beth Ann out of the path of confusion.

  The three of them ran. All around them, warriors battled. Into the darkness Beth Ann followed her mother. “Run for the horses, Beth Ann. Whatever happens, keep going.”

  Understanding dawned. They were going to escape. When they reached the spot where the horses were kept, Beth Ann stared. The horses were gone. Scattered. Her mother fell to her knees, sobbing. “It’s no use,” she cried.

  Frightened, Beth Ann pulled on her mother’s arm. “No. We have to hide.”

  Just then, the spotted owl flew past them. Beth Ann held her breath when she saw the man riding behind the owl, coming right at them. She pulled at her mother’s arm. “It’s the owl, mother. She said she’d bring help. Look!” She ran toward the man, waving her arms.

  Elizabeth jumped to her feet and lunged for her daughter. “No! It’s another savage. She placed herself between the stranger and her daughters.

  “Go, Beth Ann. Take Jane and run.”

  * * *

  Following the owl, Jeremy drew up hard on the reins when he saw a child running toward him. He stared at her blond head with surprise. When a woman stepped in front of her, holding another child, he forgot about the bird.

  The woman spoke in English. “Go away. Leave my babies alone!” She picked up a rock and threw it. It sailed harmlessly past. The second rock struck his horse in the chest. The animal reared but quickly settled at Jeremy’s command.

  The woman turned to run, but he called out to her. “Wait. I won’t hurt you.”

  Startled, the woman whirled back to face him, holding the two girls close. “Who are you?”

  He approached slowly. Around them, the sounds of battle continued. “A friend.”

  “You speak English?”

  “Yes.” He kept alert, his hands free in case he needed to use his bow. He felt vulnerable, especially with the woman and her children standing out in the open. He had to get them out of here. One look at their tattered clothing told him they were captives, not living among the Crow willingly.

  “Thank God. Save us. Take us away,”
she sobbed, handing a crying Jane up to him.

  Jeremy reached down for the little girl. In his wildest dreams, he could not have imagined this. But before he could take her, he saw a warrior running toward them, the firelight at his back. He was shouting, brandishing an ax. The woman turned, saw the Crow warrior and screamed in terror. Without even thinking, Jeremy readied an arrow and released it. The warrior fell.

  “Come on,” he urged, holding out his hand. “Hurry. Hell is breaking loose here.” He grabbed the small child and cradled her close. She cried and struggled until he pulled up her sister. The youngster clung to her older sister like a monkey.

  “Hurry,” he shouted to the mother. He held out his hand. “Come on. Behind me.”

  She lifted her hand but the arrival of another warrior running toward them made her jump back, her face a mask of hate. “No. Too late. Go. Take my babies. Save them.” She took off running toward the warrior.

  To Jeremy’s horror, she launched herself at the Crow, but he simply tossed her off him. When she rose to attack, he stabbed her with his knife. The woman fell without another sound. In front of him, the oldest girl screamed for her mother.

  “You bastard,” Jeremy shouted. The Crow stopped and stared at him. With the approach of the dawn, Jeremy could see the other warrior as surely as the man could see him and the girls. The man’s face was scarred down one side. He shouted, his voice filled with fury. In front of him, Beth Ann whimpered.

  The furious warrior bent down and grabbed the ax belonging to the man Jeremy had shot. Jeremy whirled his horse around, cursing.

  He had to get out of there. With the girls riding in front of him, he couldn’t grab his bow or his knife. He wheeled about.

  “Go!” Striking Thunder appeared out of the darkness and joined him. Jeremy didn’t hesitate. It was too late for the woman; he had to save her children. Holding on to the girls, he kicked his horse and shouted. The animal surged forward. Jeremy glanced over his shoulder, saw the scarred warrior running from Striking Thunder. With a sharp kick, he sent his horse galloping into the night. In front of him, the girls screamed.

  “No. Go back. Mother. Mother!”

  “Hush, kid. It’s too late. I’m sorry.” He struggled to keep both girls seated in front of him. “Hold on, for God’s sake, hold on.”

  Jeremy felt one girl tangle her hands in the horse’s mane. His arm snuggled her tight. He headed back to where he was supposed to have waited, but before he got there, he spotted the rest of the Sioux warriors fleeing from the burning Crow village. As their triumphant cries filled the air, Jeremy didn’t stop.

  What about Striking Thunder? Had he gotten away? At the sound of pounding hooves behind him, he glanced over his shoulder. The chief was gaining on him. When Striking Thunder caught up with him, he pointed to the girls and motioned for Jeremy to slow. “Hand me one,” he shouted, reaching over to take the elder.

  The girl fought. Fearing she’d fall and take her sister with her, Jeremy leaned close to her ear. “Go, child. It’s all right. You’ll be safe with him.” He wrapped his arm around the little one as Striking Thunder reached over to take her struggling sister.

  He had no more time to spare. With just the little one clinging to him, Jeremy rode as he’d never ridden before.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jeremy stood before Striking Thunder. Jane clung to him, refusing to allow him to set her down. Beth Ann stood at his side. After riding for most of the day, pausing only to care for the horses, they’d finally stopped. Jeremy, for one, was glad. Muscles unused to holding a child while riding hell-bent-for-leather were screaming in protest. He’d never ridden so long or so hard. Nor had he ever known such fear. If it had just been him, he’d have thought it great excitement, but with the child, he’d been afraid that if the Crow gave chase, he wouldn’t be able to protect her.

  The events of the early morning raid still seemed surreal, a dream unlike any he’d ever experienced. But the death of the two girls’ mother had been real. Too real. His heart felt heavy in his chest. He’d failed to save her.

  “You disobeyed my orders.”

  Striking Thunder’s low, furious voice drew him back to matters at hand. The set expression, and the stiffness of the chief’s shoulders, warned that Jeremy was in deep trouble. He drew himself up, ready to defend his actions.

  “I obeyed the owl. She said I was needed. When she came to me, I followed her. She led me to the woman and her children. Once I saw they were captives, I could not leave them. These children’s mother begged me to take them.” He paused. “I followed my heart. It was the right thing to do.”

  Striking Thunder regarded him for long moments in silence, his arms held behind his back, his feet planted apart. “And you would do this again?”

  Stroking Jane’s back, feeling the girl drift off into exhausted sleep, Jeremy nodded. “Yes.”

  “There are captives out here—white and Indian. Some tribes take women of other tribes for slaves or wives. Would you try to free each one?”

  Instead of answering right away, Jeremy took the time to consider his answer. “I did not seek this woman or her children. I was led to them. It was meant to be. If faced with the knowledge of captives in the future, I would have to consider the circumstances, and how they were being treated. And the consequences to the Sioux. I would not willingly put your people in danger.” He paused. “I would hope to be able to consult my chief first.”

  Striking Thunder’s lips twitched a bit at that. “I am glad to hear of that.”

  Jeremy sighed. He didn’t want White Dove’s brother angry at him. “I had no time—”

  Striking Thunder stopped him. “You did what was right. I would have done the same.”

  “You’re not angry?” Jeremy felt relieved.

  “No. A chief has to listen to the spirits and allow his warriors to make decisions. But—” he looked serious “—a warrior must also accept the consequences of his actions.” He stared at the two children.

  Jeremy glanced down into Beth Ann’s anxious features. Once more he’d done something that resulted in him being responsible for two orphans. An overwhelming sadness consumed him. “I failed to save their mother,” he said in Lakota.

  “But you saved her children. Was that not what she wanted?”

  “I should have done something different. If I’d hurried—” Over and over, Jeremy replayed the events. He wasn’t sure what he could have done differently. “If she had just hopped onto the back of the horse, I could have saved her.”

  “She died to allow you time to get her children to safety. Your horse could not have escaped with all three of them on him.” Striking Thunder put his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Part of becoming a man is to do what you can and accept that you will not always succeed. You put your own life in danger to save these children. You have become a true warrior, a hero in your own people’s eyes.”

  Jeremy felt a thrill of pride go through him. Deep inside though, he had regrets. His best hadn’t been good enough. Still, he understood that the woman had made her own choice. Her life for her daughters’.

  Striking Thunder indicated the girls. “What of them?”

  Startled, Jeremy frowned. “What do you mean?”

  For the first time, Striking Thunder smiled. “Like the cubs, they belong to you. You are responsible for their welfare now.”

  Jeremy stared down into Beth Ann’s eyes. “You mean I’m their father?”

  “You are their owner. What you do with them is up to you. You may keep them as slaves, adopt them as your children, or give them to another. You can also return them to the white world.”

  “I see.” Right now, Jeremy had no idea what to do with them. He only knew he would do whatever it took to keep them safe. “I will keep them with me, at least until we learn if there is family waiting for them somewhere
. I will ask my Lakota mother to help me learn to care for them.” He hoped Miniyata would. If not, he’d have to ask Jessie.

  At his side, Beth Ann tugged on his arm. “We have to go back for my mother.” Her voice trembled.

  Sorrow took away his brief moment of pride. He glanced at Striking Thunder, wondering if there was any way the woman could have survived. The chief shook his head. Jeremy knelt. He’d seen the warrior stab her, and knew from his own training that when a Crow warrior stabbed his enemy, it was to kill him swiftly and without mercy. “Beth Ann, your mother didn’t survive. She’s gone.”

  Beth Ann’s lips trembled. “No. I don’t believe you!”

  Stroking her cheek, Jeremy stared into her blue eyes. “Yes, you do. You saw her die. You must accept it. I would not lie to you.”

  Tears fell from the girl’s eyes.

  “Your mother loved you and Jane enough to make sure I was able to save you. You must always remember what she did for you. When we get back to our village, I promise to try and find your family.”

  “There isn’t anyone else.” Her lip trembled.

  “Then you will stay with me.”

  Striking Thunder interrupted. “The children need to eat and rest. We will hold here for a couple hours.”

  Jeremy ate with the girls, and lay down with them so they’d sleep. Two hours later, Striking Thunder gave the order to ride. Once again, he rode over and indicated that Beth Ann should ride with him.

  “No. I want to stay with Jeremy.” Her voice held a defiant edge.

  Jeremy knelt. “Listen, Beth Ann. You’ll be safe with Striking Thunder. He married my sister, and he is a good warrior. He is also my chief.”

  “You promised that you’d take care of us. You won’t let him take me away from you?”

  “I promise,” he replied. “I’ll take care of you.” He watched her climb up in front of Striking Thunder. As they rode off, she kept her eyes fastened on him.