Tender Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  It was very late when they returned to their tepee to find both Rebecca and Bright Arrow fast asleep in the blissful aftermath of a like union of minds and bodies. So deep was their peaceful slumber that neither awoke as they went to their mat.

  Shalee awakened to soft weeping that next morning. She sat up and looked around, rubbing her sleepy eyes. She briefly wondered why Rebecca was sobbing as if heartbroken until she realized what day this was. She forcefully ordered herself not to interfere in what must be done for all their sakes. Unable to tolerate the anguish which filled the young girl, Shalee left the tepee for some fresh air. Sighting Bright Arrow not far away, she went to speak with him before he left.

  “When will you take her away, Bright Arrow?” she softly inquired, knowing this parting was hurting him deeply.

  “I have told her goodby. I must not see her again. I will leave until father has taken her away forever. To watch them ride away would be unwise. I fear my eyes will reveal my feelings to others. I must be alone for a time.”

  She stared at him in confusion. “I do not understand. Gray Eagle said you would take her away.”

  His flinty eyes focused upon her quizzical ones. “He makes ready now. He fears I might be too weak to leave her with another,” he informed her in a scornful tone which alarmed her. “For him, she cannot be gone quickly enough! He has once walked in these same steps. Why does he refuse to see how I feel? Why does he hate Rebecca so deeply? I have given you my word of honor not to speak of such matters to him. Yet, there is a dark secret why he wishes her gone, a powerful reason which I cannot uncover or understand. Do you know the reason for this hatred of her within him?” he questioned, stunning her.

  “If there is another reason to consider, I do not know of it, Bright Arrow,” she replied candidly. But how could her suspicions be so groundless when both her son and his captive also discerned a haunting mystery?

  “I have seen the way he looks at her. There is a ghost within her which hardens his heart against her. Some unknown spirit challenges him. Who is she, Mother? What enemy does she recall to life?” he blatantly offered his solution.

  Startled and baffled, she digested his questions. “Why do you say such things, Bright Arrow? Rebecca is a stranger to us.”

  “Then why does my father often speak of her evil blood as if he knows from where it comes? There is something strange about the way he speaks of her and stares at her which betrays a haunting memory,” he argued, frowning in anger and frustration.

  “This cannot be, my son. Your torment confuses you and clouds your vision. Unless she reminds him of me, of the past which I told to you in secret,” she reasoned skeptically. Yet tremors of apprehension attacked her wary heart.

  “No, Mother. It is not you he sees in Rebecca; it is another, an enemy. It is some past foe which he cannot forget. I am a warrior; my senses are keen. I know that look; for I have seen it many times upon the face of a man confronting an old enemy, one who has eluded and plagued him. In some unknown way, Rebecca is my father’s enemy, but I do not know how or why.” His brow knit in deep, moody speculation.

  Fearing to relate his gnawing suspicion, he shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Did he dare to seek a truth which could deeply hurt his parents? Shalee tensed, for she also suspected some other motive behind this weighty situation. “What troubles you so deeply, Bright Arrow?” she forced herself to ask.

  He summoned the courage to speak aloud his suspicions, “Has my father known another white woman? Does Rebecca favor that woman? Is she…perhaps my half-blooded sister?” he hesitantly voiced the only rational conclusions to this mystery.

  “Never! Surely my ears do not hear such shameful words from our own son! You dishonor both your father and yourself with such vile thoughts. Gray Eagle is right; she is evil, for she makes you doubt the honor of your own father. Gray Eagle has never taken another white woman, not even in the Tipi Sa! This I swear to you. How can your heart betray him in this cruel manner? How can your lips utter such wicked, traitorous words?” Appalled by his comments, she stared at him as if looking at a total stranger. As her husband had warned, Rebecca was creating rifts among them all.

  Compelled to explain his wild speculations, he quietly disputed, “Have you not looked at her closely, Mother? Without a shadow of doubt, she carries more Indian blood than you do. Would that I dared to question her about this in her tongue…”

  Exasperated, she exclaimed, “You must not! If she possesses Indian blood, it is not your father’s! It would be dangerous to question her in English.”

  “Why, Mother? What do you fear she might say to me?” he bluntly challenged her with the identical words which she had recently spoken to her husband. “Look into my eyes, Mother, and swear to me there is no deadly secret which she can reveal.”

  Icy fingers of some obscure evil seized her racing heart and crushed it in its deadly talons. In horror, she trembled in fear and dread. “You think I lie to you? I swear I know nothing of this girl but for the words you spoke. All she has revealed to me, I have related to you,” she tensely added.

  “Do you also swear my father knows nothing of her?” he brutally refused to let this ominous matter drop. “Who is Rebecca, Mother?”

  “He has said nothing to me. If Rebecca were known to him, he would surely reveal this to me.” Yet her frightened, wary look belied her confidence.

  “Would he, Mother?” he defied her desperate attempt to end this conversation. “Who is her father?”

  “Her father?” she echoed, trembling noticeably. “I do not know, my son.”

  “Go, look at her. Return and tell me who her father is. He is my father’s enemy, not Rebecca. Perhaps you do not see yourself in her; perhaps you also see the image of her father and it hides from even you. Before she leaves, I want to know,” he stubbornly persisted.

  “If I study her closely and cannot answer your suspicions, will you let this matter go?” she pressed firmly.

  He weighed her request, then replied, “If you see no ghost within her, then I will forget this mystery. But if you do, you must tell me who she is and why she must leave my side.”

  “I will search out this doubt which burns within you. Do not come to our tepee until I send for you.” With that, she slowly walked toward the conical dwelling which suddenly seemed to permeate evil. Her leaden heart and legs rebelled against this ominous confrontation.

  Rebecca was no longer crying. She was mechanically folding her garments and placing them upon a square of green material. Caught up in a world of hopeless despair, she did not hear Shalee’s entrance or gradual approach. Shalee halted just behind her to listen to her hopefully enlightening murmurings…

  “Why, Papa? Why must life be so cruel? If only you had taught me more about Indians…If only mama had taught me more signing…If she could have talked, she would have told me of such feelings. What do I know of love and hate? What do I know of the passions which consume men and women? If you hadn’t taken mama from St. Louis, both of you would be alive now. Why did such terrible pain and death visit our cabin? Now, perhaps Rebecca Kenny will soon join you both…”

  Rebecca…Kenny…St. Louis? Cabin? A mute mother? Kenny? Rebecca Kenny? Chills tingled upon Shalee’s body. Why did this girl’s words sound so familiar? So meaningful? So terrifying?

  Rebecca lovingly gazed at the oil painting upon the scrap of deerskin. “You were very handsome, Papa. So strong and brave. How I wish I favored either you or mama. I certainly don’t look anything like that wicked Uncle Jamie. But if I don’t take after the Kennys or O’Haras, then who do I favor?” Rebecca vainly attempted to focus her mind upon anything except Bright Arrow and her impending departure.

  Joe Kenny! Mary O’Hara! This was their daughter? But how could that be? Jamie O’Hara? He was the lecherous, greedy uncle which Bright Arrow had mentioned? Shalee remembered him. When she had fled from Gray Eagle’s bittersweet torment long ago, Jamie O’Hara had been the man who had forced her into the evil clutches o
f Jeffery Gordon when she could not pay her rent at his roadhouse! Evidently this innocent child had also been thrown into his wicked clutches just as her mother Mary had been before her marriage to Joe.

  Joe and Mary were dead? But how? When? She furtively peeked over Rebecca’s shoulder and stared down at the small oil painting which confirmed her suspicions. The truth which greeted her supposedly denied another one: if Gray Eagle knew who Rebecca was, he would never send her away! He and Joe Kenny had been friends many, many years ago. Joe had saved her life more than once; he had destroyed their dark past and had brought about their blissful life.

  Rebecca’s hand was covering her weeping eyes; she failed to see the shadow of Shalee upon her lap. Her innocent words of grief exposed Gray Eagle’s heartless treachery to his shocked wife. “Why did you have to die, Papa? Who was the man you spoke of in your delirium? Will I ever understand your strange words? Why did you rave of days long past before you married Mama? Why did you keep saying if only the child was yours? Who was this other man in Mama’s life before you met? Why did he haunt you so in death? She must have loved you more, for she married you not him. Who was this Powchutu? What is he to me?”

  Chapter Eight

  Shalee nearly fainted from this great shock. Her mind reeled at the misleading implications in Rebecca’s troubled, rambling words. Within her spinning mind, time was racing backwards at a perilous and furious speed to a collision course with the past. Mary O’Hara had been in love with Powchutu; they had been sleeping together before his brutal murder. Of course! Mary had been pregnant! That was why Joe had married a vulnerable mute girl so quickly and unexpectedly! Rebecca Kenny’s father was Powchutu!

  My God, she cried silently in heartrending agony; he knows who she is! Joe must have told him why he was marrying Mary so hastily! He lied to me! I felt he was hiding something. The evil blood which he fears is Powchutu’s…Bright Arrow was right! The ghost of her father is the real enemy. Even after all these years, my husband would mercilessly punish an innocent girl for her father’s crimes! He knew! He knew and lied!

  Resentment, anger, and bitterness assailed her. No wonder he was so eager to have her gone! He had astutely surmised Rebecca might drop a clue to her real identity. Over and over the words echoed loudly and ominously within her head, he lied! He lied! He lied! But this wasn’t the first time her love had cruelly deceived her. Powchutu had been around all those other times; now, his restless spirit was surely witnessing this new betrayal.

  Was her husband so selfish and mistrustful that he would keep this critical fact a secret? Even Rebecca had not discerned the deadly truth! For all purposes, she was the daughter of Mary and Joe. Send their defenseless child to endure a hellish existence? Never! Shalee owed her old and dear friends this much; she owed them more!

  Shalee touched Rebecca’s shoulder and she faintly called her name in a strained voice, “Rebecca…”

  The young girl lifted a tear-streaked face to Shalee. Bright Arrow was right; she did offer a veiled threat to her proud husband. He would never permit Powchutu’s daughter to have his only son! Shalee’s eyes slipped to the skin within Rebecca’s hand. She knelt beside the dejected girl. She pointed to Joe’s likeness and tremulously inquired, “A’ta?” She forced a smile in order to calm Rebecca.

  Rebecca glanced at the skin and nodded. Shalee reached out to touch it, her finger gently tracing the tiny image of the stalwart scout who had led her wagon train to the Sioux land from the Pennsylvania Colony when she was barely nineteen. Memories of Joe’s protection, instructions, and friendship crowded into her mind. She recalled how Joe had saved her life following her miscarriage after her tormenting flight to civilization with Powchutu. She remembered how Joe had persistently tracked her here after Gray Eagle’s recapture. She knew it had been Joe’s enlightening words which had returned the bond of love and trust between her and her intrepid husband. Dear Joe dead?

  “A’ta ya?” she asked, pointing to the unseen heavens above the tepee.

  “Sha. He and Mama died of a fever two years ago,” she went on, not caring that Shalee supposedly could not grasp her tongue.

  Shalee held out her quivering hand in askance. Rebecca hesitantly placed the precious skin there, hoping she would not damage it, knowing Shalee could take it from her if she wished to do so. Shalee gazed at the two familiar images. Shalee clearly remembered the mute girl whom she had met and befriended long ago. She had not seen Mary in eighteen years, not since her terrifying sojourn in St. Louis where they had met. Unbidden tears came to her eyes. Shalee pointed to Rebecca, saying, “Rebecca,” then to herself, saying, “Shalee.” She then glanced in askance at the pictures and inquired, “A’ta?”

  “Joe Kenny,” Rebecca replied, comprehending her query. “Mary Kenny,” she added, touching her mother’s likeness.

  Shalee dared to venture, “Rebecca Kenny?”

  Rebecca smiled and nodded. A gleam of suspenseful excitement suddenly filled her eyes. “I wonder…” she mused aloud. “If there is such an Indian, perhaps you’ve heard of him…Do I dare to learn such a secret?” she fearfully questioned herself. She resolved to see if Shalee would react to the name which her father had uttered countless times during his last two days. “Powchutu?” she said, nervously watching for any unusual reaction to that name.

  In spite of Shalee’s rigid control, she paled and inhaled sharply.

  “You have heard his name! Who is he, Shalee? Powchutu!” Rebecca demanded in suspense.

  “Hiya!” the forbidding, wintry word was forcefully issued like a gust of arctic air from behind Shalee. His stance was imposing, intimidating.

  Both women jumped and stared up into the withering, volatile scowl of Gray Eagle. He exuded fury and hostility. His frigid gaze went from one female to the other, daring either of them to speak. He came forward and savagely jerked Shalee to her feet. His towering body was taut with rage. He forcefully held a tight leash upon his words and outrage. “Hiya wohdake! Ku-wa!” he sternly commanded Shalee to silence and to follow him outside. He mistakenly assumed they had been conversing in English; he was furious.

  Shalee held up the skin before his glacial eyes. In Oglala, she accused, “You knew, didn’t you? You spoke false words to me. You know who she is. Joe was your friend! How can you do this terrible thing to his daughter? I had not believed you this cruel, my husband. How can we send his child to such a dangerous life?” she miserably demanded, wanting to discover if he knew the entire truth.

  Unprepared for the discovery of his treachery, he lost control of his temper. “She is not his daughter! She carries the blood of…” At the horrified look which filled Shalee’s eyes, he halted. His ebony eyes narrowed to slits of stormy warning. His grip became so tight and painful that she cried out. Still, he glowered at her tormented eyes of sea green.

  He sarcastically accused, “It is you who knows the truth, Wife. I should not have let her remain here for even one moon. Yes, I know who she is,” he confessed. “I did not permit her father to steal you from my side, and I will never allow his cunning daughter to steal our son. She still lives. After all he did to us, is that not enough kindness from me?” he asked, wondering how long she had known the truth.

  “It is wrong, Gray Eagle. She does not know the truth. What harm can it do for her to remain here with us?” she pleaded.

  “I know the truth!” A satanic smirk captured his striking features.

  “You wish an innocent girl to pay for the sins of her father? I cannot permit it,” she exclaimed, defying him and taking Rebecca’s side.

  “You cannot permit it?” he mocked her, his eyes and voice as sharp and deadly as finely honed steel. “You permitted her father to dishonor me! You permitted him to steal you from me! You permitted him to kill our first child! You permitted him to endanger your life and honor! You will permit his restless spirit nothing! She is evil. His roaming spirit sent her here for revenge upon me. Even in death he comes between us. He could never have you in life, and he will
not have you in death. You are mine! Mine, Shalee!” he snarled.

  “He never had me in any way! It was your cruelty which divided us! I have always belonged to only you. A dead man cannot control our lives. It is your endless hatred of him which does so! Have you forgotten how he saved my life many times? Once, he was like my own brother. He was obsessed by love and concern for me. Have you forgotten that he died trying to protect me?” she truthfully stated Powchutu’s favorable deeds to her infuriated husband.

  “He died because he stole you from my side! He murdered our unborn child! Can you forgive him that evil?” he chastised her. “I should have been the one to slay him! Vengeance was denied me!”

  “It is self-destructive to hate for so long, Gray Eagle. Powchutu is dead! We cannot change what happened years ago. You accuse me falsely; I did not permit any of his evil. He honestly believed you cruel and wicked. He was only trying to protect me, to free me from your control. Must his evil blot out his good? Even so, you must share the guilt with me! He deceived you just as he deceived me. Did you permit him to shoot you? Did you protect me from him and his treachery? Did you permit the many reasons why his evil worked upon us?” she hotly attacked him in the same uncontrollable manner in which he had unjustly assailed her. “If not for your brutality and silence, his evil tricks would never have worked on either of us!” she charged. “How can you hate your…”

  Shalee was thrown backwards by a stunning slap across her cheek. Gray Eagle shuddered with the seething rage which boiled within him. How dare she accuse him of dishonor, weakness, and cowardice! How dare his own wife excuse Powchutu’s evil! Shalee stumbled and fell to the hard ground.

  Rebecca was instantly between them, bravely and recklessly shielding Shalee from Gray Eagle’s mindless attack. She astutely sensed the savage battle was over her and her fate. Somehow the name of her father and this unknown Powchutu had enraged the invincible chief. Who was this Powchutu? What had he and her father done to these Indians? She actually feared for Shalee’s safety. She screamed at him, “Hiya! Kill me if you wish, but do not harm her for helping me!”