He gazed up at Hope where she lay on the bed. He went to her, gathered her gently into his arms, and placed her safely in her cradle.
He then lifted Lauralee onto the bed.
The next moments seemed to flow by without thought as Dancing Cloud did what he could to save Lauralee’s life. He forced the medicinal herbal mixture through her lips and down her throat.
Alone, he continued to care for her, cleaning her up, placing towels between her legs to soak up the blood.
And after several crucial moments of thinking blood flow would never stop, the towels that he brought out from between her legs were finally free of blood.
He stared down at Lauralee, his heart skipping a beat over how pale she was. He was not sure now if she would survive.
Covering her with a warm blanket, he knelt down beside her and began a soft chant. His eyes never left the stillness of her face.
Chapter 32
For love is heaven,
and heaven is love.
—SIR WALTER SCOTT
Lauralee was aware of someone singing as she slowly emerged from her deep sleep. The voice. It came from afar, as if from a distant land.
Dancing Cloud.
It was Dancing Cloud’s voice.
Where was he? She wished to reach out and touch him, to tell him that she was going to be all right.
The child, she despaired to herself. Their beloved child they both would never hold or love. It had been taken from her.
She refused to open her eyes. She did not want to face reality just yet. She just wanted to listen to the song, to the voice singing it. She wanted to draw it around her like a protective cloak and never let it go.
Dancing Cloud. Oh, how I love you, Dancing Cloud, she thought lethargically. Do you still love me? Although childless now, do you still love me?
She hugged herself with her arms and turned on her side, the song reaching her, touching her, calming her. . . .
“Listen! On high you dwell,” Dancing Cloud was singing as he sat on a cliff that overlooked his village. “Forever you dwell, you adida-we. But down below, sorrow smothers we who sing. Bring my woman relief. Hay!”
He gazed down at his cabin. His eyes never left it as he continued to sing, pouring out his grief and hope and faith to the gods of his people.
The sun was a vast splash of orange along the horizon as evening grew in lengthy shadows along the land. Dancing Cloud pushed himself up from the rocky precipice.
“Hear my prayers, Wah-kon-tah, Great Spirit,” Dancing Cloud said, walking dispiritedly down the angled path that led from the cliff. “My child has been taken. Do not also take my wife.”
* * *
A soft hand on Lauralee’s arm drew her eyes open. The hand. It was warm. It was comforting. But . . . it was so small, so much smaller than Dancing Cloud’s powerful hands.
Turning over, Lauralee found herself gazing up into Brian Brave Walker’s troubled, dark eyes. The candlelight from a fluttering candle on the table beside her bed revealed not only tears in Brian Brave Walker’s eyes, but also a deep look of concern.
“You are finally awake,” the young brave said, his voice filled with a sudden relief. “You have been asleep for way too long.” He hung his head for a moment, then looked slowly up at Lauralee again. “You slept soundly like my mother. Then she died.”
He eased onto the edge of the bed and placed his tiny arms around Lauralee’s neck. “Do not die,” he sobbed. “I need you to be my mother. I am sorry for having hurt you with my words and actions. I now know that my life would be empty without you. I no longer care if your skin is white like my true father’s. The difference is in the heart. Yours is pure. His was black and evil.”
Touched to the very core of herself over Brian Brave Walker’s declaration of love for her, Lauralee’s eyes filled with tears. This made it easier for her to brush aside her sadness over having lost one child, for she had just gained another!
“Don’t cry, Brian Brave Walker,” she said, stroking his coarse, midnight-dark hair. “I understand why you felt the way you did. Shhh. Please don’t cry. Everything is going to be all right.”
“No, it is not,” Brian said, slipping out of her arms. He gazed sadly down at her. “The baby you carried inside your body. It is dead. I feel to blame. I treated you so badly. Your hurt feelings made the baby come from inside you, did it not?”
“Heaven’s no,” Lauralee said, gasping softly. She placed her hand gently on his cheek. “Dear, I’m not sure why the child was taken from me. All that I know for certain is that it was God’s choice.”
“Your God was mean to you,” Brian Brave Walker said, wiping his eyes dry with the backs of his hands. Then he smiled at Lauralee. “But you still have two children,” he proudly announced. “Myself and Hope.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the cradle, where Hope slept.
Then he looked guardedly at Lauralee. He had yet to hold the baby. He had most certainly refused to look at her face. To do so would hurt him too much. He had not long ago been forced to say farewell to his own baby sister.
The worst of Brian’s feelings and fears and the fruit of many of his nightmares was that his evil father may have taken his sister out into the forest and left her for the wild animals to feed on.
He did know for certain that his sister had been taken from his mother. His father had stated that he would do this. By having said that, it had even at that moment been the same as done. His father’s hate for both·Brian Brave Walker and his baby sister had been that deep.
“I shall get Hope and bring her to you,” Brian Brave Walker said, knowing that doing what he had so adamantly refused to do before might be enough to prove to Lauralee the depths of his feelings.
“You will bring Hope to me?” Lauralee asked, her eyes wide. She had yet to see Brian Brave Walker even get near the child, much less take it from its cradle. That meant so much to Lauralee. So very much.
She wiped tears from her eyes when he anxiously nodded.
“Then, yes, I do wish to hold her,” she murmured. She moaned from pain as she tried to get more comfortable on the bed, so that it would be easier to hold the child.
Brian Brave Walker crept over to the cradle. His little heart throbbed with a deep longing for his sister when he gazed down at the sleeping child. She was wrapped snugly in a blanket, a loose corner drawn down partially over her face so that he could not actually see her face.
He turned his eyes to Lauralee. “Susan Sweet Bird has gone to her dwelling to prepare corn bread dumplings and bean bread for our supper,” he said, purposely delaying picking up the child. “Father . . . Dancing Cloud? He has gone to sing to the heavens.”
He paused and listened. “He sings no more,” he murmured. “Perhaps he will come now and discover that you have awakened.”
“I heard him singing even when I was still partially asleep,” Lauralee said, the remembrance making her feel warm and wonderful inside, and very, very wanted. “My Cherokee warrior is gifted in many ways. I am sure I will discover many more of his hidden talents after we become man and wife.”
“The wedding will be soon now,” Brian Brave Walker said matter-of-factly. “Father told me that as soon as you are well, we will have us a wedding and a large celebration. I will even dance with other young braves. Will that not be a grand time for us all, Mother?”
Lauralee sucked in a wild breath of wonder when he addressed her as “Mother” as easily as it had been for the words to slip across his lips.
And Father?
He definitely looked to Dancing Cloud as his father.
Yes, now they were a true family.
And so they should be.
They had all gone through hell and back to have such, to become, a family.
His arms trembling, Brian Brave Walker bent over the cradle and slipped them beneath the child. In his mind’s eye he recalled the first time his mother had allowed him to pick up his small sister. He had grown accustomed to the feel, had
even rocked her in his mother’s rocker. He had so enjoyed having a sister.
“Sweet baby,” he whispered as he so very carefully lifted Hope from the cradle. “I will not drop you.”
Lauralee scarcely breathed as she watched Brian Brave Walker. This might be the first time for him to have ever held a child.
But as he received Hope within the crook of his arm and carried her toward Lauralee, Lauralee’s eyebrows raised. Brian Brave Walker seemed practiced at handling babies.
She wondered how, and when?
There had been no children at his house. And if he was so practiced at carrying a child, why had he acted as though he despised even the thought of getting near Hope until now?
“Here she is,” Brian Brave Walker said, slipping the child from his arms, into Lauralee’s. “Does holding her take some of your sadness away?”
Lauralee’s insides melted at the feel of the baby in her arms. Although a part of her mourned the loss of her true child, this baby that was also hers, would help erase the pain that her empty womb caused her within her heart.
“Yes, holding Hope helps to take my sadness away,” Lauralee said. She smiled up at Brian Brave Walker. “Let’s see if she is still asleep, or if taking her from her cradle has awakened her. If she is awake, she is a good girl, isn’t she, Brian Brave Walker? She isn’t crying.”
Brian Brave Walker fought the emotions that were building within him . . . emotions that were raw and bruised from having recently lost his baby sister. His little heart throbbed at the thought of looking at the face of this baby. Seeing such sweetness could cause the lonesome ache to begin all over again that he had felt for endless days after having said his last goodbye to his sister. He had been haunted by where his father would take his sister, whether or not she was even alive today.
But to please Lauralee he must make this one more sacrifice. He would take a quick peek, then make up an excuse to go downstairs away from the baby while Lauralee held and fussed over her. He could say that he was going to prepare the baby’s milk for feeding.
Yes, that is what he would do. That excuse would be perfect and more understood by Lauralee.
Lauralee’s fingers went to the corner of the blanket that lay loosely over Hope’s face. She slowly eased the blanket aside, sighing and loving the child all over again when she saw the tiny copper face with the tiny nose, lips, and the darkest of eyes as the child gazed back at her.
Brian Brave Walker stared disbelievingly down at the baby. His knees went so weak they almost buckled beneath him when he recognized the child. “My . . . sister . . .” he gasped, taking a shaky step away from the bed.
“Yes, your sister.” Lauralee sighed, thinking how grand it was that Brian Brave Walker had even gone this far today, in that he had not only accepted Lauralee and Dancing Cloud as his parents. He had also accepted the child as his sister.
“Brian Brave Walker, I’m so glad that you . . .” she said, but when she looked up at him and saw the utter dismay in his eyes, and saw how he seemed in such a state of shock, her smile and her words faded.
She reached a hand out for him. “Brian Brave Walker, darling, what is it?” she asked, her voice drawn. “Does seeing Hope bring back some sort of terrible memories? And if so, why did you call her your sister?”
Brian Brave Walker continued staring at the baby. “My sister,” he said again. “My little sister.”
“Brian Brave-Walker, if calling her your sister causes you such pain, wait awhile longer. Wait until later,” Lauralee encouraged. “No one is forcing you to call her your sister.”
Brian Brave Walker shifted his eyes. He gazed into Lauralee’s as a smile fluttered onto his lips. “This is my true sister,” he said, now on his knees, taking a closer look at Hope. His hands rolled the blanket fully away from her and he touched her tiny fingers, her tiny toes, her soft face.
“U-lv-no-di, Wilnoty. It is my sister Wilnoty,” he said, his eyes dancing happily. “My father did not kill her after all. Instead he took her to the orphanage!”
Lauralee’s head was spinning. “This is your true sister?” she asked, her voice filled with wonder. “Actually your true sister? And what is this about your father? Clint had threatened to kill Hope?”
“Yes, it is Wilnoty,” Brian Brave Walker said, picking up the child. Holding her close, he began rocking her in his arms and explained everything to Lauralee. About his father having said that he was going to take the child away; about Brian Brave Walker having run away before he witnessed such a sight as his father wrenching his baby sister from the arms of her mother; why Brian Brave Walker had not wanted to talk about his sister—because it pained him too much to even be reminded of her.
“If Mother could have only known that my sister did not die,” he said, his voice breaking. “If Mother could have only known that my sister is going to be raised by those who will treat her special . . . who will treat her as their very own.”
In awe, Lauralee watched Brian Brave Walker cuddle the child. “Your sister? And her true name is Wilnoty?” she murmured. “The good Lord must have led us to that orphanage. Or else how could this miracle have happened?”
Dancing Cloud came up the ladder and pulled himself into the loft. He stood back, his mouth agape at what he saw. Not only was Lauralee on the speedy road of recovery and not burdened with sadness over losing their child, but Brian Brave Walker’s attitude had also made a complete turnaround about Hope, and most surely Lauralee. The mood in this small room was that of sweetness and delight.
“Miracles?” he said, having heard Lauralee say something about a miracle. He went and knelt beside the bed and took one of Lauralee’s hands. “Just look at you.” He turned and gazed at Brian Brave Walker and Hope over his shoulder, then looked down at Lauralee again. “Today seems filled with miracles.”
He swept Lauralee into his arms and held her close. “Thank you for coming back to me, my o-ge-ye,” he said thickly.
Lauralee clung to him. “Wait until you hear what Brian Brave Walker has to tell you,” she murmured, smiling over her shoulder at the sight of the boy still rocking Hope back and forth in his arms, now singing to her.
“Oh?” Dancing Cloud said, easing from Lauralee’s arms. He turned and watched Brian Brave Walker with the child.
Lauralee then told Dancing Cloud everything that Brian Brave Walker had told her.
“And so our baby’s true name is Wilnoty,” Dancing Cloud said, rising to his feet. “Shall we, ourselves, call our small daughter Wilnoty?”
Lauralee nodded.
Dancing Cloud rose to his feet. He placed an arm around Brian Brave Walker’s waist and led him to the bed, encouraging him to sit down beside Lauralee.
Brian Brave Walker gave the baby back to Lauralee, then in one wide sweep Dancing Cloud had his arms around his family.
He closed his eyes and whispered, “O, Great Whirlwind, you listened well today, and . . . you . . . gave. . . .”
Chapter 33
And so, all the night’s tide,
I lie down by the side of my darling—
my darling—
My life and my bride.
—EDGAR ALLAN POE
Several weeks had passed and Lauralee had regained her full strength. The day prior to today’s wedding activities she had been required to perform one of the Cherokee’s most frequent medicinal-religious ceremonies in connection with a prayer for long life. She and the Shaman had fasted the previous day and then she had bathed in a running stream, or “going to water,” so called by the Cherokee.
While she had been in the stream, dipping herself completely under the water seven times as was required, the Shaman had gone through his ritual on the banks of the stream, drawing omens from the motion of colorful beads that he held between his thumb and forefinger.
She had been told that this was deemed the most suitable season of the year for the ceremony. It was late autumn, when the leaves that covered the surface of the stream supposedly imparted their medicin
al virtues of the water.
And now the time had finally arrived, the day that Lauralee had been dreaming of ever since she had realized just how much she loved this wonderful Cherokee chief.
Several candles made of fragranced beeswax lighting the cabin, Lauralee stood patiently still as Susan Sweet Bird prepared her for the wedding. Although Susan Sweet Bird’s eyes could not see, her fingers were her eyes. She worked diligently, feeling out how she was making Lauralee beautiful for her special day.
Lauralee was dressed ceremonially in a knee-length skirt woven from feathers, edged at the bottom with down plucked from the breast of a white swan.
Her hair was plaited in a wreath that was turned up and fastened on the crown, with a silver broach forming a wreathed topknot.
Her lips were red from the juice of the bloodroot, her cheeks just faintly colored from the juice of the same plant.
Tiny woodland autumn flowers of various brilliant colors had been tied together, making a bracelet for both of her arms, and a necklace around her neck.
Lauralee turned her eyes to the open door. Her heart pounded wildly as she listened to those who were already loud with merriment outside. The drums and rattles were beating out their rhythm as feet thumped soundly on the stamped-down earth before the Wolf Clan Town House.
The holy house had been readied for the ceremony and the ensuing celebration, the tantalizing aroma of food being cooked in the village.
Her thoughts were drawn back to the task at hand when Susan Sweet Bird said something that made her happiness waver somewhat. She stiffened as she listened.
“To safeguard the virility of our Wolf Clan of Cherokee, a member of our clan never mates with a member of his clan,” Susan Sweet Bird said, her excitement having caused her to rattle on. “Instead, a mate is chosen from the Deer, Bird, Twister, Blue, Red or Wild Potato Clans.”
Lauralee relaxed again. She did not belong to any of the Clans that Susan Sweet Bird mentioned. Nor any others. But that had never mattered to Dancing Cloud. She was his choice regardless of her color.
Wild Abandon Page 32
