by Karen Kay
He beamed. “That’s right, miss.”
“Mr. Adams, tell me, did you say that you are charged to return myself and my maid to St. Louis?”
“Aye, ma’am. That we are. We carry some cargo downriver too. But our main purpose is to get you to civilization.”
“Thank you, sir. It is considerate of you to do so.”
He smiled.
“It would be even more considerate had I not been dragged away, a sheet forced over my head, and my hands and feet tied.”
“I understand, miss,” said Adams, “but Mr. Laidlaw thought this way was for the best. I suspect he was afraid you might protest.”
“I see,” she acknowledged. “How fortunate for us that Mr. Laidlaw can think for us all, without ever having to consult us. Heaven forbid we tax our own minds.”
Adams grinned, and Marietta was certain that, if the man had grasped the sarcasm underlying her words, he chose to ignore it.
He said, “You should get yourself ready to turn in, ma’am. I’m sorry that we’ll have to bind both you and your friend, but it’ll be for the night only.”
Marietta frowned at him. “I hardly think that’s necessary.”
“I’m sorry, miss.” And he truly did look sorry. “But it’s Laidlaw’s orders. Guess he felt you might try ta steal away.”
Marietta pressed her lips together, drawing in her brows. “And dear God in heaven, spare us if we should think to disobey Mr. Laidlaw’s orders.”
Adams smiled at her. “I’m sorry. Just get ready to settle in. We’ll be up early in the morning to get started again. Me and the men are goin’ to go secure the boat now, but you and your maid should get yourselves ready to sleep.”
Despite his good nature, Marietta might have replied to that with even more sass, but at the moment, the man who had been securing their cargo stepped into their camp. In his hand, he held a small tree he had uprooted, and with an inane grin, he said, “Look what I found—this little sapling’ll make a good whip.” He swung the tree round and round his head, using the sapling like a lash as he did a little dance. The men all laughed, even Adams.
As Marietta watched, she recalled another time, another set of saplings, another man and another set of values. She wondered, did this voyageur know he had disturbed the oneness of nature?
Probably not. Only days ago, she wouldn’t have known any differently either.
But now she did and was curious if the voyageur would ever come to realize that all life was precious. That the life you took from another could detract from your own immortal soul.
All at once, Marietta slammed into a realization: She had changed. Her viewpoint on life had changed; it was completely different than it had been. Indeed, England seemed very far away, in many ways. Not at all connected with the here and now.
It was a strange feeling, as though all this time she had been living in the future, forgetting that there was a present.
But not now. At this moment in time, she was very aware of the presence of things. She felt the urge to become a part of every living creature—to attain that oneness in nature, and to experience the beauty of it to its fullest extent.
Dear Lord. How had it happened? When had it happened?
Somehow, in some way, her spirit and Grey Coyote’s had merged, had become kindred. They were connected by something more real than this material universe. Perhaps the very spirit of the land had entered into her soul.
If it had, it was a good thing. For it was a wonderful feeling.
She inhaled deeply. Though less than a month had passed since she had begun traveling with Grey Coyote, she was a different person. This was now her home, Grey Coyote, her man.
She would escape. Luckily, thanks to Grey Coyote, she had a good idea of how she might accomplish this.
Glancing toward Yellow Swan, Marietta curled her fingers into fists, and crossing her hands over each other, she jerked them both to the side, slightly upward, opening her fingers at the same time. It was the sign for “escape”.
Subtly, Yellow Swan nodded, making the gesture for “tonight?”
Marietta inclined her head, and Yellow Swan replied with the sign for “good”.
Together, the women smiled.
Gazing up at the Seven Brothers, Grey Coyote realized that dawn was only a few hours away. It was the time of night for which he had been patiently waiting. Soon the darkest hour would be upon them. It would be then he would rescue the women.
Grey Coyote had followed the boat carrying his wife. He had watched it; he had waited. But he had not acted to take Marietta away yet, mostly because in his own mind, he had realized that perhaps this was the opportunity his wife had wished for. Hadn’t she talked often and long enough about returning to St. Louis?
Indeed, if this were what she craved, Grey Coyote would let her go, for it was not in his nature to hold her against her will. If the curse were to be more difficult to break because he had allowed her to leave, then so be it.
But in watching their camp closely this night, he had witnessed Marietta make the sign for escape—tonight. Seeing those gestures, Grey Coyote’s heart had broken free. Indeed, it had soared.
His wife would rather flee than continue down the path that would take her to St. Louis, even though, for the length of time he had known her, she had talked of little else. Had Marietta finally come to realize that, no matter the circumstances, they belonged together?
It appeared to be so.
Shrewdly, Grey Coyote set his plans, awaiting his moment to act, though he had certainly not been idle in the time intervening. Stealing up close to each man this very evening, Grey Coyote had taken their weapons, one by one. It had been a necessary precaution, but it was also a form of revenge.
Now, advancing noiselessly toward his wife, Grey Coyote placed his hand over her mouth, a safeguard in case he startled her into crying out. Bringing his face to hers, he settled his lips over hers.
Immediately, her eyes popped open. She stared, and he couldn’t help but grin at her, watching as her countenance slowly changed from surprise to enchantment. Ah, how he loved this woman.
He placed his finger to his lips, then taking out his knife, he slipped its blade between the ropes that bound her hands. He did the same with her feet, then repeated the procedure with Yellow Swan.
Quite naturally, both women rubbed their wrists, but Grey Coyote, with a sharp sign, cautioned them to cease all action. Movement, he reminded them with a frown, would send out those ever-expanding air waves. And if he were to secure their escape, they would need to effect their desertion with as little motion as possible.
Marietta nodded.
Taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips, he kissed her fingers gently and mouthed, “You must remove your dress and petticoats if we are to leave here without notice.”
Again Marietta nodded, and without even a small comment or protest, began to undo the buttons of her dress.
Next, Grey Coyote crept toward Yellow Swan, and with a series of signs, asked her to help Marietta.
But Marietta seemed to have misunderstood, for she reached out for Grey Coyote’s fingers, and bringing them to her lips, she mouthed, “Shouldn’t Yellow Swan also remove her dress?”
Grey Coyote shook his head.
“Why not?” asked Marietta.
Taking up a handful of Yellow Swan’s dress, Grey Coyote made the signs for “buckskin”, “tear”, then “resist”.
Yellow Swan meanwhile had crept toward Marietta, and with two sets of hands working over Marietta’s dress, the chore was soon done. His wife had shed her outer garment, her petticoats and chemise. That it left her sitting in no more than leggings, drawers and corset was becoming to him a common sight.
However, the dress was not cached or thrown away. The dress, the petticoats and chemise were all laid out over the ground. Taking up the ropes that had bound his wife, Grey Coyote tied them to the clothing.
This done, they gradually crept away from the camp. Once out
of sight, Grey Coyote ushered the women into a grove of tightly packed willow trees. Here they would hide.
Once more, bringing Marietta’s fingers to his lips, he mouthed, “You are both to stay here while I backtrack, so that I may erase our passage. You are not to do anything or say anything until I return. Do you understand?”
She nodded, and he kissed her again before he turned away.
Sneaking back into the river boat encampment, Grey Coyote took up the weapons he had confiscated earlier, arranging the arsenal into a neat pattern next to Marietta’s dress. If that design gave all the appearance of creating the English word “fools”, so be it.
Noiselessly, Grey Coyote slipped back to the willows, where for a moment, he held his wife in his arms. Then, with one more kiss, they were on their way.
Chapter Nineteen
On this day, dawn was a spectacular event. The eastern sky was tinted the palest peach, accompanied by the darker shades of silver and blue. Marietta and Grey Coyote were sitting together, arm in arm, reclining behind a stand of bushes. They faced east, gazing with admiration at the sky, land, and a herd of buffalo, which had come to feed over the low ground.
Earlier, Grey Coyote, as well as Yellow Swan, had welcomed in the day with prayer, while Marietta watched them both. Then without a word being said, she dropped to her knees herself to pray, but in her own way.
At present, Yellow Swan had retreated to the low ground to collect roots. As she worked, though she kept within view of the other two for safety’s sake, she was for the moment out of earshot.
Leaning close to Marietta, Grey Coyote said, “I followed you for several hours before coming to rescue you.”
“Did you? Then, why didn’t you…?”
“Understand, I did not act to rescue you, not at first,” he said, “for I thought you might welcome the trip downriver. I know that in your heart is the need to return to your England.”
“Yes, that’s true,” agreed Marietta, “but if I had gone there without the curse being lifted…”
“I thought perhaps you might consider it was not your problem. Or that the adventure to return to your home might be more than you could easily resist. I was not going to intervene if this were so, for it is not in my heart to deny you.”
“But—”
“And then,” he continued, “I saw you make the sign for escape, and my spirit took flight, and I…” His voice trembled, and he ceased speaking, his lips caressing her on her forehead instead.
Marietta leaned into him, emotion rolling through her. Had she ever loved him more? “Yes, I wanted to escape. I can never remember desiring anything more, not even returning to…my England.”
Grey Coyote’s arms tightened around her, and she gazed at the soft look in his eyes. “Know this, my husband. I…I…have changed.” She took a deep breath and looked away from him. “I can’t tell you when it happened, or even why. All I know is that when I am with you, I feel alive, as though every bit of me is a living, vital thing, as if the world around me is filled with mystery and enchantment.”
Looking back at him, she scanned his every feature, as though she wished to memorize each one. “I am so in love with you, Grey Coyote. I don’t wish to live without you.”
“Nor I, you,” he replied, and there was a tear in his eye that he did not attempt to deny or explain.
She felt so close to him, but she had more to say. “If that means I never see again the shores of England, then so be it. I can live without that. I cannot live without you.”
“Nor should you have to. For as long as I exist, I will love you, my wife. From the first moment I saw you, I admired you for your beauty, for it is uncommon. But then, when I came to know you more fully, I was touched at first by your kindness and your passion. Later, I was surprised yet inspired by your courage in rescuing your friend, and your willingness to do chores that many women would never do. And then when you, too, saw the vision and decided to stay to help me…” He couldn’t finish the thought, as his voice quivered overly much. He swallowed hard. “Know this, my wife, while I am committed to ending the curse for my people, whether I be successful or not, I am dedicated to you. And this I promise you, so long as I exist, I will love you.”
Marietta cried. She simply cried and threw her arms around him. “Love me, my husband. I know the time is not right. I know my friend is nearby. But I have never wanted anything more than to have you, all of you. Please love me.”
After picking her up in his arms, he brought her to her knees in front of him, the two of them kneeling before one another. He whispered against her neck, “I will, my love. I will, and I do.”
It took almost no effort to remove her drawers, leaving her corset intact. Grabbing ahold of his buffalo robe, he positioned it beneath her, and gradually, he lowered her to the ground, opening her legs so he could admire the beauty that was hers and hers alone.
He said, “Oh, that we had the whole day to love.”
“But we don’t, my love. I understand this, but we will still have this time together.”
“Hau,” he said. “Hau.”
Before she could stop him, he bent toward her navel, tasting her, kissing her, gradually letting his range extend downward, until at last, he kissed her very femininity.
It was a wicked sensation, it was delightful, and oh, the pleasure, the rapture, to be loved in such a way by this proud and wonderful man.
He murmured, “Open your legs more fully for me. Give yourself to me completely.”
And she did. Over and over again, he made love to her. Indeed, he took her to the heavens and back again. When she thought she could take it no more, he rose over her.
Bringing her legs to his shoulders, he knelt before her, his hands carrying her hips up to meet his. He then joined himself with her.
Never once did he look away from her; never once did she pull her glance away from him. Smiling at one another, they made love, building to an apex, and then he let her come down.
She was ecstatically there again, tripping over the edge of pleasure, and at that exact moment, he thrust more deeply into her tight recesses, spilling all of what he had to give for her alone.
“I love you so much, my wife,” said Grey Coyote, as he bent toward her, showering her with kisses.
“And I love you. So long as I exist, I will love you.”
Smiling, she pulled him down to her, where she once more embarked upon the road to pleasure.
“Where are we going?” Marietta asked of Grey Coyote later that evening. The three of them were once again on their way, traveling over the countryside. For a time, they had stopped, as both Grey Coyote and Marietta seemed inclined to do of late. While they were halted, the two of them were to be seen sharing an embrace, a hug, or sometimes even a kiss. Luckily, Yellow Swan was more than content to look the other way.
“If my calculations are correct,” Marietta continued, “we are heading north. You’re not backtracking toward Fort Pierre, are you?”
“I am.”
“But why?” Marietta turned to frown at her husband. “You must know I don’t want to go back to the horrible fort. What will Laidlaw do if he sees me again with you? Oh, and did I tell you that Laidlaw ordered Adams to kill you?”
“I did know that,” said Grey Coyote. “But we are not returning to the fort. We go toward the fort because I have some good news for Yellow Swan.”
This statement had Yellow Swan, who had been reclining off to the side, turning toward the two of them. She said nothing to Grey Coyote, as Marietta had come to learn was Indian etiquette.
Marietta had also discovered, when in the presence of both Yellow Swan and Grey Coyote, that it was left up to her to intervene for the two of them. It was the only way they would speak to each other.
Apparently, in Indian country, unless he had to, a man did not talk to a woman who was not his wife. So Marietta asked, “Did you say you had news for Yellow Swan?”
“Hau, it is so. Tell her,” said Grey Coyote, as
though Yellow Swan wasn’t there and couldn’t hear his every word, “that while I was in the Lakota camp, I learned someone had recently stolen many of the Lakota horses. The warriors did try to track the man who took them, and they know that he who did it was Assiniboine. However, they were unable to catch him.”
Yellow Swan’s face brightened, but she remained silent.
Marietta asked, “Do you think the man who did it was Yellow Swan’s husband?”
Grey Coyote grinned. “I suspect it was, for his description fits the manner of her husband.”
At this announcement, Yellow Swan smiled, though she had cast her gaze politely downward.
So Marietta said for her, “Then we should journey to the north as soon as we trap the beast, so that we may bring Yellow Swan to her people.”
“We could,” said Grey Coyote. “However, if she does not wish to wait for this to happen, I have other news, perhaps better news. I found another Assiniboine woman in the Lakota camp. She is waiting for Yellow Swan, for she too wishes to go back to her own people. Together, they can return to Assiniboine territory.”
For a moment, gazing at Yellow Swan, Marietta was uncertain if her friend was going to break out into laughter or tears, so varied were the emotions to be witnessed over her countenance. Instead, Yellow Swan said, “Tell…scout…I thank him,” and she turned away.
Marietta could have sworn that before Yellow Swan glanced off from them, she had seen tears in her eyes.
“Will you be able to pick up the beast’s trail again?” asked Marietta, as she and Grey Coyote set out once more, after having introduced Yellow Swan to the other Assiniboine woman. It had been a warm meeting between the two women, for they knew one another. They were, in truth, cousins.
They had rested for a day, and then Grey Coyote had pointed both women in the direction of home, while Marietta had ensured they had plenty of food.
