He quickly looked away from the tent where she slept. I find myself thinking about her too much. I’ll be glad when we get to the mission and my job will be done.
CHAPTER 41
It had been nearly two weeks since Amanda discovered Little Fawn in the woods. Travel had been steady but slow. Much slower than Buck would have liked. He was anxious to get the women to the mission so he could be on his way home. The trek had become frustrating because each stop to feed the babies took precious time, but he was trying to be patient. Buck wasn’t one for lingering in one place too long, especially not knowing if they were being followed or watched by the local Indians.
As Buck led the way, he felt as if their very lives depended on his keen sense of alertness. Bringing up the rear were the pack mules and the two extra horses bearing all of their supplies. Surprisingly enough, they hadn’t encountered any other humans so far, and Buck hoped it would stay that way for the rest of their journey. He didn’t relish the thought of meeting up with enemy Indians or, worse yet, white men who might want to cause trouble. The safety of Amanda, Mary, and their children was uppermost in his mind.
Thunder had been their constant companion, and the dog was a big help to Buck. With his keen sense of smell and good hearing, he had alerted Buck to threats several times. Just yesterday Thunder had been running up ahead and come across a mountain lion guarding the prey it had just killed. Snarling and growling, the big cat had eventually grown weary and run off, posing no threat to Buck and the women. Buck was thankful for Thunder’s vigilance. The trip hadn’t been easy on the dog, because the pads of his feet were starting to crack. Each evening Mary put some milkweed sap on them to promote healing and ward off infection. Even when the dog rested, he was watchful, which allowed Buck to get some sleep at night. He needed the rest in order to be on the alert during the day.
The terrain was getting more difficult in their travels, with more mountains to climb, not to mention the relentless mosquitoes that attacked them during the evenings.
It was suppertime now, and since it was almost dark, they had stopped for the night. Once again, the mosquitoes were buzzing around the camp, but the smoke from the campfire helped to keep them at bay.
Amanda was tending to her baby girl, using a fresh piece of dried moss as a diaper, the way Mary had showed her. Mary had also given Amanda some of Little Joe’s clothes for Little Fawn to wear.
Amanda glanced up when she became aware that Buck was standing over her. “Little Fawn is doing quite well, don’t you think?” she asked, flashing him a wide smile.
He shrugged and tried to keep his face a mask of indifference.
Amanda turned her attention back to the squirming child, and Buck was about to tend the horses when he decided to ask her a question. “How come you’re so determined to go to the mission?”
“I’ve told you before,” she replied. “The Indians need to know about God and His Son, Jesus. They also need to learn how to read, write, and till the land.”
“Humph!” Buck scoffed. “The Nez Percé know the land well. Mother Earth gives ’em all they need.”
“I realize that you have no desire to believe in God,” she said evenly. “But I’m sure some Indians do. Otherwise, they would not have sent a delegation all the way to St. Louis in search of the Bible and white missionaries, asking them to come and teach their people.”
Buck frowned. “Some may want that, but most are happy with the old ways. The majority of Indians don’t want white men on their land.”
“Don’t you think the Nez Percé people will be interested in the Bible?” she asked. “Are you afraid I will corrupt them with my religious ways?”
Buck dropped his gaze to the dusty ground. “I ain’t afraid of nothing, but you should be.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Buck held up two fingers and furrowed his brows. “Two babies born of the same mother ain’t good. The Nez Percé people may think this is a bad sign. They might see it as warning from Hanyawat.”
“What kind of warning would the Great Spirit have in regard to an innocent young child?” Amanda retorted.
Buck grimaced. “Bringing a child of Its-welx, born to a Flathead woman, into the Nez Percé camp is not good. They may think the trouble meant for the Flatheads could come upon them instead.”
Amanda wrinkled her nose. “That’s the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard! Even if there were bad omens, which I certainly do not believe in, they couldn’t be transferred from one tribe to another, merely by bringing a child into their camp.”
Could this lady be more stubborn? Buck wondered. Amanda sure had spunk; he had to give her that. Maybe that was one of the things that attracted him to her.
“Lap-lap,” he said, changing the subject as he pointed to a nearby bush, where a beautiful butterfly had landed.
“Lap-lap?” Amanda repeated, as she rose to her feet. “What does that mean?”
“It means, ‘little butterfly.’ See, it’s right over there.”
“Oh yes, I see it.” Amanda smiled. “It’s beautiful, another one of God’s creations.”
Buck grunted and walked away. It seemed like everything Amanda said had something to do with God, and he was getting tired of hearing it.
As Amanda sat in her tent with Mary and their babies that evening, they discussed their futures—Amanda at the Spalding Mission, and Mary hoping to find her people.
“Do you think when we get to the mission that your family will be near and that you’ll be able to find them right away?” Amanda asked, holding Little Fawn and admiring the little girl’s perfect face. She was glad her child did not have a flat head.
“Should be at camp along Clearwater River,” Mary replied. “Should not be hard to find.”
“Many times I have been afraid to move forward with my plans, but you have been a big part in helping me continue. It would be nice if we could still see each other from time to time,” Amanda said, watching Mary as she nursed Little Joe. “Your friendship means a lot to me.”
“I like that.” Mary smiled at Amanda. “It be good to be among my people and teach Little Joe the Nez Percé ways. It also mean much to have you and Little Fawn nearby when my people camp near mission during cold winter months. You have become special friend to me. I already feel the peace we shall find there.”
Amanda knew that no matter which path their lives took, once they got to their destination, the welfare of their children would come first.
Mary had been teaching Amanda how to sign with her hands so she could communicate with the Nez Percé Indians she would be ministering to. She’d taught her a few Nez Percé words, as well.
Amanda often read to Mary from the Bible, and helped her memorize some verses of scripture. Buck kept a safe distance during Bible reading. He did, however, tolerate her prayers whenever they ate a meal together. Amanda hoped that eventually he would see the truth of God’s Word and open himself to Jesus. If he didn’t do it before he left them at the mission and headed back to his home in the Rockies, she feared he might never find the Lord. What will it take for Buck to see the truth? she asked herself. Is there something more I can say or do?
CHAPTER 42
The sun cast a colorful pink hue across the valley where they were camped, splashing everything with a bright glow. They’d stopped a bit earlier than normal because Little Fawn, now a little more than two weeks old, had been extremely fussy. Amanda knew it was probably the heat that tormented the child, but she worried. They’d put in a lot of miles today, and Buck had obviously sensed the child’s need and made the decision to stop and make camp for the night.
Amanda was glad today’s travels were cut short, for the unrelenting August heat was getting to her, too. She would be relieved when their journey ended. All the mountainous trails they had traveled so far; the streams and rivers they’d crossed; and the forest they’d quietly ridden through had kept her nerves on edge because of what they didn’t know that might confront them at
any moment. What she wouldn’t give for a deep, restful sleep in a real bed, but she knew that wouldn’t happen until she was settled in at the mission.
Even with these anxieties, Amanda had never felt more connected with her surroundings. She’d never seen so much beauty in what God created than she had during this journey. She had also met Mary, whom she hoped would be her friend for life. And the most precious thing of all was that she now had a daughter to raise and teach about God. It scared her a bit, realizing there would be many challenges ahead. But with God’s help, she would deal with whatever came along.
Feeling ever so grateful, Amanda climbed down from her horse and quickly undid the cradleboard. She was exhausted from the endless hours in the saddle.
Amanda lifted the baby out and placed her on a deer hide, near the cool river. Then she dipped one end of a torn shirt into the water, wrung it out, and placed it across the infant’s forehead. Next, she dipped another piece of cloth into the water, and designed it into a cone-shape. The baby began to suck as soon as Amanda put the moistened cloth between her tiny lips, and soon thereafter, Little Fawn drifted into a peaceful sleep.
“Thank you for stopping, Buck,” Amanda said, smiling up at him as he approached her.
“I couldn’t let the baby keep cryin’,” Buck replied, looking at the forest before them.
Amanda’s gaze followed his, knowing they still had many more miles to go until they reached their destination. A sense of excitement mixed with a bit of trepidation fluttered in her stomach as she contemplated the new life that would be awaiting her at the Spalding Mission. Would this be her future? Would she and Little Fawn be accepted? She prayed they would, or else her journey and all the sacrifices she had made would have been for nothing. And where would she go if they weren’t accepted? Certainly not back home to Dansville. Papa was gone, and there was nothing in New York for her but a flood of painful memories. No, Amanda felt sure her place was in the West, where she could create new memories.
“This area is truly beautiful. It’s as if God is right beside us,” Amanda said to Mary when she walked over to join them.
Mary nodded. “I feel this, too.”
Amanda and Mary, holding their babies, and Buck squatting down to pet Thunder, gazed at the tall trees. Amanda breathed deeply of the forest’s rich scents, mingling with the sweet smell of fresh water before them. She looked over at Mary and smiled. “Little Fawn is alive because of you, and I appreciate what you’ve done for her.”
“You the one who saved her,” Mary said, shaking her head. “I just provide milk she needs.”
“That’s right,” Amanda acknowledged, glancing at Buck as he pet Thunder, “and I thank you for that, Mary.” She motioned to Little Joe as they both took seats on a log. “He seems to have grown so much these past few weeks.”
Mary nodded. “He grow tall like his father someday. He already strong baby.”
“Yes,” Amanda agreed. “And I’m sure if Jim were alive, he’d be proud of both you and his son.”
Mary lowered her gaze. “I miss husband.”
Amanda touched Mary’s arm. “I’m sure you do, but at least you have his son, and that has to be a comfort. Through Little Joe, Jim will live on.”
Mary nodded briefly, then placed Little Joe on the deer hide beside Little Fawn. “Someday our children be good friends.”
Amanda smiled. “I hope so, Mary. And I hope you and I will be good friends for many years, too. We have come a long way together.”
As Amanda and Mary sat and visited near the water, Buck couldn’t take his eyes off Amanda. He began tending the fire, which really didn’t need tending at all, but it gave him something to do. Amanda had taken her hair out of the bun she normally wore, and it fell down her back in silky waves. She was plain, yet beautiful. Her eyes were as blue as the afternoon sky. Her voice, so soft and lilting, often left him feeling a hunger such as he’d never known. Amanda’s skin looked like silk, and a tan gave her a healthy glow. Are all white women like this one? he wondered. She seemed to be enveloped with an aura of love. It made him feel peaceful yet strangely uncomfortable. From the first moment he’d set eyes on her, Buck hadn’t been able to get Amanda out of his mind. She was in his every thought, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.
As Buck willed himself not to, his feet took him once again to where Amanda and Mary were sitting. He sat on the log on the other side of her, and his throat grew suddenly dry.
Amanda turned in his direction, just as Mary got up to leave.
Mary took Little Joe to the water’s edge and sat down, dipping her feet into the coolness. She held her son and dipped his feet, too, smiling when he squealed with delight. The river was clear, and looking out toward the center, Mary could see the bottom and a few trout lazily swimming into the current. Round, smooth pebbles of all sizes and colors covered the river’s floor, which made it easy to walk on, so Mary decided to do just that.
She got up, holding her son snugly, and waded in, knee-deep. There she saw a large, flat rock to sit on, immersing herself in the water, halfway up to her chest. Little Joe was still very young, but even at this age Mary wanted him to have no fear of the water. Just like the last time, he seemed to enjoy it. As she held on to her child, supporting him underneath, she moved him back and forth, skimming the water’s surface, and his little feet kicked with delight.
“You swim like little fish,” Mary crooned. Hearing him giggle made her happy, with thoughts leading toward her people. What would it be like when she reached her tribe? Would they accept her son, who was half white?
As Mary picked up Little Joe, a bird called from the other side of the river. It was a joyful sound, and she watched as it came closer, quickly flew over her head, and disappeared out of sight. Seeing the bird was something familiar to Mary, and she watched in amazement as a perfect yellow feather drifted to the ground.
Memories flooded back to when she was a girl and had gone seeking her guardian spirit. She remembered in her weakness that day that her eyesight had grown fuzzy, and she’d swayed, trying to stay upright from fatigue. Then the golden bird had come and dropped a bright yellow feather. Mary’s father had told her later that a yellow bird meant to have trust in using power in voice. Looking back on it now, Mary felt that her guardian spirit had been with her when she’d encountered Seth Burrows and had shown no fear. She was certainly scared on the inside, but her voice had not revealed it.
Mary had also been blessed with a beautiful singing voice—another gift from her bird spirit, the canary. And now, seeing her guardian spirit once again gave Mary new hope in what was to come once she found her village and people.
Buck’s mouth felt like it was full of cotton when he leaned slightly toward Amanda, and their gazes locked. In that brief span of time, something indefinable passed between them. Then she smiled and looked away.
He fought the urge to touch her face and trace the line of her jaw with his fingertips. It was a good thing she’d looked away from him, for it only took a split second to be lost in those liquid pools of blue. To run the backs of his fingers over her smooth, tan skin was a temptation he could hardly control. Instead, he focused on their mules and horses. Buck couldn’t let his imagination run away with him.
He got up to check on the livestock one more time and then decided to take a dip in the river. He needed to wash the dust off himself, but he also needed to cool his body from the heat of the day.
Buck made his way on a small path leading downstream so he could enjoy a private swim and clear his jumbled thoughts. The river looked refreshing and calm, with only a small current going straight down the middle. Buck could hardly wait to plunge into the water, and he was lucky to find a small inlet blocked by some rocks, which created a small pool, separate from the river.
Sitting on one of the bigger rocks, Buck removed his shirt. He was just getting ready to take off his trousers when he heard the sound of running horses in the distance. He turned the other way and cringed when he saw a
cloud of dust and several Indian ponies heading toward their camp. Buck’s chest tightened as he reached for his gun and hurried back to protect the women. Who were these Indians, and what did they want?
CHAPTER 43
Three fierce-looking Blackfoot warriors dismounted and stood before Buck. Thunder’s hair bristled, and he bared his teeth, while standing close to Buck’s leg.
“Be quiet, dog,” Buck commanded, nudging Thunder to sit down. Using the hand signal for friendship and the greeting of “hello,” he motioned for the men to take a seat by the fire.
Buck wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but remaining calm and trying to stay friendly, while keeping unnoticeably cautious, was the best thing to do. He stood, waiting quietly while taking in all the details of the three men. They each wore a loincloth with leggings made from deer hide that went up to their hips. A belt was also included, along with a brightly designed shirt from the same material. Colorful beads adorned their moccasins, and the tall one had a necklace of grizzly paws hanging around his neck. Buck knew this piece was a sign of bravery.
The tallest of the three men made a low, guttural sound, then held up a string of fish that looked like they’d recently been caught. He made no effort to sit on the log near the fire or even crouch down on his haunches, like Buck had just done. Instead, he stood firmly in place, his eyes scanning the campsite as though he might be looking for something.
Amanda and Mary remained motionless, holding their babies tightly to their chests. Buck knew from their tight shoulders and rapid blinking that they were both afraid. Things had been going along so well lately; this was not what they needed.
After several moments, the taller Indian, who appeared to be the leader of the group, spoke to his companions in their native tongue; although Buck didn’t recognize any of the words. At least so far their demeanor didn’t seem threatening.
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