Candace McCarthy (15 page)

“Amelia! Susie!” Daniel’s sudden appearance caught their attention. Amelia was never so glad to see him. “This way,” he said, holding out both hands for them to take. Amelia captured his left hand, felt safe and secure as his warm fingers clasped her own.

“Are you all right?” he asked, sounding concerned.

The fear she’d endured must have shown some in her expression. “I’m all right now.”

“They won’t hurt you.”

She met his gaze. “They don’t know me.”

Something flared in his blue eyes. “They know you are with me.”

She glanced back over her shoulder to find several watching them, smiling and nodding as they spoke among themselves.

“Where are we going, Pa?” Susie asked.

“To say hello to Black Hawk. After that, you are free to go with Conner.”

Susie grinned in obvious pleasure.

“Who exactly is Conner besides being Susie’s playmate?” Amelia asked, having heard the name before.

“He is an Ojibwa boy. His real name is Barking Dog.” Daniel grinned. “He and Susie took to one another from their first meeting. They even cut themselves to become blood brother and sister. Barking Dog gave Susie an Ojibwa name—Little Flower.”

“That’s beautiful,” Amelia commented, turning her head to look at him.

Daniel met her gaze. “Yes, it is. Much better than Barking Dog. The boy wanted a white man’s name as well, so Susie named him Conner.”

“So Conner is an Indian.”

“That’s right.”

Amelia looked beyond Daniel to his little girl. If she had heard their conversation, she gave no sign. She was too busy enjoying her surroundings—if her pleased expression was anything to go by.

Daniel stopped before one of the domed wigwams, perhaps a little bit bigger than the others, but Amelia wasn’t sure. The animal-hide flap had been raised to reveal an open doorway. Daniel dipped his head under first, then waved Amelia and Susie inside.

At first glance, Amelia couldn’t see much, but as her eyes became adjusted to the change in light, she saw the man who had come to the cabin while Daniel had been away—the brave who had nearly frightened her to death with his appearance.

Black Hawk remained seated as he and Daniel shook hands. “Dan-yel,” he greeted his friend warmly.

Susie hurried to the brave’s side, where she crouched down to sit and snuggle against the fierce-looking warrior. Without a word, Black Hawk hugged Susie against him and turned his attention to Amelia. She blushed under his piercing dark gaze.

“It is this man’s pleasure to see you again, Miss Dempsey.”

Amelia blinked, surprised that he knew her name. “Ah—thank you.” She glanced about the wigwam, noting how he had made this crude structure into a comfortable home. “I am honored to be here.”

The man’s smile transformed his expression, and Amelia caught her breath at how attractive Black Hawk was. Conscious of Daniel’s stare, she looked at him, only to be annoyed by his look of amusement.

She glanced away and struggled for something to say. She felt awkward as she stood while Black Hawk remained
seated. As if reading her mind, the brave gestured for her and Daniel to sit. Checking to take her cue from Daniel, who nodded, Amelia took a seat on a woven-rush mat on the opposite side of the fire pit. Daniel settled himself beside her.

Daniel and Black Hawk began to talk in Ojibwa, and while Amelia thought it was rude of them, she didn’t say anything. She took the moment to study the interior of the wigwam, noting the hole in the roof over the fire pit, the rush mats made from cattails on the floor and against the walls.

Suddenly, she felt as if she was being watched, and she glanced at each man to find them looking at her expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Did you say something to me?”

Daniel answered, “Black Hawk asked if you are hungry.”

She was. “Yes, I am.”

Black Hawk smiled and waved to someone at the entrance of the wigwam. It was then that Amelia saw the young, beautifully exotic Indian maiden who stood silently behind her.

Black Hawk’s wife? Amelia wondered.

“This is Spring Blossom, my sister. She will feed you and show you to the place where you will sleep.”

Amelia smiled at the woman, who smiled shyly back. Was this her signal to get up and leave?

Believing it might be, Amelia started to rise. When no one objected, she decided she had made the right move. “Does Spring Blossom speak English?” she asked.

“She speaks some,” Black Hawk said. “I am sure the two of you will be able to understand each other.”

Amelia flashed Daniel a glance. “Are you coming?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not yet. I’ll find you later.” Nervous at the thought of being separated from Daniel again, she nevertheless nodded politely and turned to leave. She paused suddenly to address Black Hawk. “I want to thank you for helping to find my father.”

Black Hawk looked surprised by her statement, and she immediately wondered if she’d blundered … if Daniel had indeed spoken to the Indian about finding John Dempsey. Why else would he appear startled?

When the Indian spoke next, she knew. “It is not for the women to worry about such things. It is for their men to handle.”

Amelia fought the urge to frown. She nodded instead and followed Spring Blossom from the wigwam. Outside, she scowled, wondering what Black Hawk meant by that cryptic remark. Then she felt Spring Blossom’s concerned gaze and made an effort to smile. She would ask Daniel what his Indian friend meant later.

“This is sleep place,” Spring Blossom said with a smile as she led Amelia into another wigwam.

Amelia took a brief moment to study it. It looked as comfortable as Black Hawk’s living quarters.

There were three sleeping pallets. Amelia wondered who owned the wigwam, with whom she’d be sharing a home. Oddly enough, the thought of sharing the wigwam with Spring Blossom or another Indian woman didn’t bother her as much as she’d thought it would.

“Whose home is this?” she asked.

Spring Blossom frowned as if trying, but failing to understand. Amelia tried to think of a way to rephrase her question.

She gestured about the wigwam. “Does this place belong to you?” She pointed to the woman and gestured about the Ojibwa house. “Will you and I be sharing?”

The Indian maiden still didn’t understand, so Amelia tried again.

The two women engaged in a strange conversation of hand motions and chopped-up phrases until suddenly Spring Blossom understood what Amelia was asking her.

The maiden shook her head, and Amelia understood it to mean the wigwam did not belong to her. “Bear Woman,” she said in heavily accented English.

“The wigwam belongs to Bear Woman?”

Spring Blossom nodded, smiling.

“All right,” Amelia said. “Will Bear Woman come soon?”

The Indian woman frowned, then with a spark of understanding in her eyes shook her head. “Bear Woman no come. Gone.”

Bear Woman was dead? Amelia frowned. She’d be staying in the house of a dead woman. She shivered even while she felt sad. “I’m sorry,” she said with sincere sympathy.

Spring Blossom’s brow furrowed as the woman continued to stare at her. Suddenly her expression cleared. “Bear Woman not dead. Gone to see clan sister.”

Amelia laughed at her mistake. “That’s good. I didn’t want to think I’d taken over the woman’s possessions.”

Black Hawk’s sister nodded, although it was clear to Amelia that she didn’t comprehend a single word she was saying. She gestured toward a rush mat similar to the one Amelia had sat on in Black Hawk’s lodge.

“Thank you, I would love to sit.” The moccasins were much easier on her sore feet, but still the damage had already been done by her boots. She was grateful to be able to get off her own weight.

While she was seating herself, Amelia watched Spring Blossom rummaging through supplies stored beneath a
platform near one wall. She turned to Amelia with a vegetable that looked like squash. On closer inspection, Amelia realized that was exactly what it was.

Spring Blossom started a fire in the pit in the center of the wigwam, directly under the hole in the roof. Then she began to prepare a dish of squash, corn, and beans of some kind, cooking them together in a clay pot with a small amount of water and some foul-smelling grease. Amelia wrinkled her nose at the grease, wondering what it was, but afraid to ask. As the mixture cooked, releasing some of the vegetable smells, Spring Blossom sweetened it with some maple sugar.

The smell emanating from the clay vessel was surprisingly pleasant; it made Amelia’s mouth water and her stomach growl.

Through all this, there was no sign of Daniel or Susie, but she suspected that they’d been taken to a wigwam of their own. Susie was perhaps with the boy Conner. Daniel would probably be staying with his good friend Black Hawk.

When the dish was fully cooked, Spring Blossom spooned some of it into a wooden bowl, then handed the bowl to Amelia along with a wooden spoon to eat it with.

The maiden didn’t take any for herself, but watched Amelia carefully, until Amelia realized that Spring Blossom was waiting for a judgment on her cooking. Amelia brought a spoonful of the steaming mixture to her lips and tasted it carefully so she wouldn’t burn her mouth.

The mixture was surprisingly good. Amelia tasted the different vegetable textures and enjoyed the sweetness of the maple sugar. Whatever it was that Spring Blossom had added that smelled so foul certainly didn’t taste it. In fact, she didn’t taste it at all.

“This is delicious!” Amelia said.
Spring Blossom grinned in understanding. “Good?”

Amelia nodded. “Very good.”

Someone called from outside, apparently for Spring Blossom, as the Indian maiden stood to leave. “Must go.”

Amelia nodded. “Thank you,” she said with a smile, holding up the bowl.

Spring Blossom murmured something in Ojibwa that Amelia took to mean “You’re welcome.” She started to duck out the door, when Amelia stopped her with a question that had been on her mind.

“Daniel,” she said. “Where will he stay?” She asked again, rephrasing the question so that spring Blossom would understand.

“Daniel sleep place?” she asked.

Amelia nodded. “Yes, where is Daniel’s sleep place?”

The Indian maiden started to giggle and said something that made Amelia start and nearly choke on the small bite of food she’d just eaten.

“Here?” Amelia said. “Daniel is sleeping here? With me?”

“Eya’.”
Spring Blossom nodded and smiled.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the Indian word meant.

Yes.

Michigan

Late September, 1836

“Captain,” a young soldier said breathlessly, “I’ve spotted the Sioux up ahead. They’ve got prisoners with them.”

“Excellent!” The officer’s eyes gleamed. “How many captives?”

“I saw five children and four adults—women, sir.”

“Did the savages see you?”

The soldier nodded. “They did, sir. I spoke with the chief, Man-with-Crooked-Mouth—just as you told me to do. The savage asked about trading for guns.”

The captain frowned. “I’ve got blankets, glass beads, and cloth to trade. I have no intention of arming the red bastards with dangerous weapons.” He had saddles, too, issued by the US government for the Indians as promised by the latest treaty. He had no intention of giving away good saddles to a bunch of savages.

An unholy light entered the commander’s eyes. He hated the Indians, but he was not above using them to further his own ends. He didn’t see why the government gave the Indians goods and supplies when his men could use them more. He wanted the Indians killed or banished to a place where no white man would ever be forced to come in contact with one again. He was a captain in the
United States Army in charge of distributing supplies promised to the Indians in the most recent treaty with the Ojibwas and Ottawas, but he had his own agenda. He had no intention of giving the savages anything without getting something in return.

The government is too generous to the red dogs,
he thought. If only his superiors would see reason, they’d soon get rid of all the savages.

“Sir,” the young soldier said, drawing his commander’s attention. “I told them we didn’t have guns for trade, but that we had firewater.”

A look of satisfaction entered the captain’s expression. The smile that transformed his face was frightening. Whiskey didn’t sit well with the redskins. A drunken Indian was an ornery one, bound to get into trouble, which was just what the captain wanted. “You’ve done well, Holton. Very well indeed.”

The lad breathed a sigh of relief and beamed, for it was much better to please the captain than to anger him. Angered, the officer was a dangerous man.

“You said there are women among the Sioux?”

“Yes, sir. Four of them.”

The captain smiled. “Ever been with a woman, Holton?”

The soldier, barely sixteen, blushed. “No, sir.”

“We’ll have to rectify that, won’t we?” The officer held the private’s gaze steadily. “I’ll allow you first pick after I choose my own.”

The younger man looked startled, then as understanding dawned, he appeared pleased. “Truly, sir?”

The officer was in the mood to be generous. He nodded.

“Thank you, Captain.” The lad shuffled his feet and looked down. “Sir, what am I supposed to do?”

The man laughed. “You’ll know when the time comes, Holton, but if it will make you feel any better, I’ll allow you to watch me first.” He chuckled at the lad’s startled expression, before he dismissed him.

It should be an entertaining night,
he thought. It had been a long time since he or any of his men had enjoyed the attention of females. With success so close at hand, the captain felt himself harden with lust. Tonight he’d celebrate a job well-done—whether or not the woman he’d chosen enjoyed it.

Daniel sat in the Ojibwa wigwam with his friend Black-Hawk-Who-Hunts-at-Dawn, the brave’s two brothers— Rain-from-Sky and Thunder Oak—and the head chief of the Ojibwa village, Big-Cat-with-Broken Paw. The men were discussing the Sioux attack on the mission and how to find and rescue the missing white people.

The Indians were engaged in a discussion in Ojibwa. Daniel was quiet as he listened and tried to keep up with the rapid conversation. So far, he’d learned that one band of Ojibwa scouts had returned. Thunder Oak had been their leader. He’d reported that they had, indeed, found signs of their enemy, the Sioux. The only one of Black Hawk’s brothers who did not speak English well, he spoke in Ojibwa. Daniel tried to make sense of what he was saying. He caught Black Hawk’s gaze. His friend translated for him.

“Dan-yel, my father says he has found the tracks made by our enemy, the Sioux.”

Daniel knew that the Ojibwa used the term
father
for all male family members. Thunder Oak continued his report, and Black Hawk kept Daniel informed.

Apparently, the Indians had followed the trail until
they’d reached a river, which they had crossed to check the other side. There were no tracks on the opposite shore, so they knew that the Sioux had left by canoe, canoes Thunder Oak claimed had been stolen from their Ottawa brothers.

After listening to the talk, Daniel realized that these Sioux would be difficult to find now, but he didn’t give up hope. He had faith in his friends’ ability to track, even under the worst circumstances.

As the Indians continued their discussion, Daniel felt someone’s regard. He glanced toward the door opening and was startled to see Amelia.

“Daniel!” she exclaimed as she burst into the meeting of all men.

The group suddenly became quiet. Daniel rose to his feet and hurried to her side. “What is it?” He felt something between embarrassment and concern.

“I must speak with you!” she whispered.

“What’s wrong?”

“Please, outside.”

Daniel glanced at the men, who regarded Amelia with disapproval. “Amelia, you shouldn’t have barged in on our meeting.”

She tensed, and he saw her glance at the Indian men. “Tell them I am sorry for interrupting.”

Daniel translated for Big-Cat-with-Broken-Paw. “My woman does not know your ways,” he said in Ojibwa. “I will teach her. Please do not look too harshly upon her.” He hesitated. “She is upset at the loss of her father.”

“Go with her, Daniel,” Black Hawk said in English. “I will explain to my chief and my brothers.”

Daniel flashed Hawk a look of gratitude.
“Miigwech.”

“You are welcome, my friend.”

Amelia had left the wigwam, sensing she’d committed
a terrible breach of Indian etiquette. She stood some distance from the door, waiting for Daniel to join her.

She had let emotion rule her head—and not her good sense. The last thing she needed was to alienate the Ojibwa. They were her hosts, and better yet, they were the only ones who could help Daniel find and rescue her father.

She waited, feeling nervous all of a sudden, wondering what Daniel would say about the way she’d burst in.

He came out of the wigwam, spied her immediately, and approached. “What is it?”

She flushed, feeling foolish. “Daniel, I’m sorry.”

He sighed. “Amelia, this is a different culture than ours.

Please let me handle this. I know it’s difficult, but I— we—will find your father.”

She nodded silently and looked away.

“Now what’s wrong?” He had softened his tone. “What did you want to tell me?”

She drew a sharp breath before replying. “Daniel, they have us sharing a wigwam. They have us in the same room!” she exclaimed, sounding upset.

He stared at her without expression. She shifted uncomfortably under his intent study of her. “Amelia, they believe you are my woman.”

“Well, then tell them I’m not!”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“For your own protection. As my woman, no one will bother you.”

“I thought you said we’d be safe here—”

Daniel nodded. “I did, and we are.” In a telling movement, he ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sorry you’re upset, but believe me—it’s for the best that
they’ve put us together.” He smiled. “Besides, Susie will be with us.”

A gleam entered his blue eyes, the first indication that he realized how difficult it was going to be for them to share such close quarters.

“Isn’t Susie staying with Conner’s grandmother?”

He looked alarmed. “I’d forgotten.” He suddenly didn’t look so sure of the situation. He shook his blond head, as if the problem was a minimal one. “It’ll be fine, Amelia.”

She hoped he was right. She looked behind him toward the wigwam. “Have they said anything about my father?”

“No,” he said.

She frowned. “They haven’t! Why not?”

“Amelia, you must be patient.”

“I’m trying to be,” she said, feeling dispirited.

He drew her face upward, stroked her cheek with his finger. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll see about other sleeping arrangements.”

She thought about it, then shook her head. “I don’t want to be left alone.”

“I’ll be there if you need me,” he said.

Amelia closed her eyes. I
need you. I don’t want to,
but I do
…

It was time in the Indian village for a naming ceremony. The son of a young Ojibwa couple had just turned one month old today, and it was time for the child to be given an identity. The event was cause for celebration. The festivities would include the ceremony, a feast, and a thanksgiving to
Gichi-manidoo,
the Great Spirit, and the spirits that govern all living things on the earth.

The Ojibwa had been preparing for this feast for several days. That evening, Amelia’s first within the village, the festivities would begin with a gathering within the yard.

Amelia hadn’t seen Daniel since she’d interrupted his meeting with Black-Hawk-Who-Hunts-at-Dawn. She’d returned to the wigwam and waited for him to come. Afternoon became dusk, and it was then that Spring Blossom came to help prepare her for the festivities. The maiden gave her a beautiful doeskin dress, held on by straps about the shoulders. The garment was adorned with bead- and quillwork in a variety of colors.

“It’s pretty,” she told the Indian maiden.

Spring Blossom looked at her blankly.

“Pretty,” she said, stroking the skin. “Very nice. Very beautiful.”

The maiden understood then and smiled. “Put … on,” she instructed in hesitant English.

Amelia glanced down at her own green fabric gown and realized that she would feel less conspicuous if she changed clothes. She nodded and accepted the dress. She hesitated before undressing in the hope that Spring Blossom would take the hint and leave, but the Ojibwa woman was prepared to stay to help Amelia get ready.

Spring Blossom, herself, looked quite stunning in a similar tunic with separate attached sleeves. Her hair had been combed to a black glossy sleekness and made into a single braid. It looked as if she’d colored her cheeks pink with berry juice. She wore long beaded earrings, several strands of bead necklaces, a necklace of copper tubes, and a silver armband. There were several small yellow dots painted in a pattern across her nose and on her forehead.

Amelia’s hands hovered on the buttons of her gown bodice. Although she’d seen most of the women without tops, Amelia was still uncomfortable at the thought of undressing before one. She realized that Spring Blossom had
no intention of leaving, so she began to undress. Her fingers fumbled over the buttons.

Spring Blossom held out her hands. “Help.”

Amelia shook her head, then concentrated on undoing her gown. She turned away as she stepped from the garment. Clad only in her chemise, she reached for the Indian dress and started to raise it over her head. She felt a tug on the back of her undergarment. She glanced at the woman over her shoulder.

“Take off,” Spring Blossom said.

Amelia stared at her. “No, I—”

“Take off!” the maiden insisted.

She blushed as she pulled off the garment, then quickly slipped on the doeskin dress. Spring Blossom was waiting for her when she turned around.

The maiden smiled. “Pret-ty,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“Miigwech,”
Spring Blossom said, giving her the Ojibwa translation.

Amelia grinned.
“Miigwech.”

Wearing the dress wasn’t all that was expected from Amelia. Spring Blossom combed and braided her sable brown hair into two plaits. Then to Amelia’s amazement, Spring Blossom took some kind of red-and-yellow-colored substances and painted streaks in Amelia’s hair.

A few more added touches to Amelia’s appearance and Spring Blossom pronounced her ready. Without a looking glass, Amelia had no idea what she looked like, but she could guess. As she stepped from the wigwam behind Spring Blossom, she searched for Daniel and Susie, wondering if they’d recognize her in her Ojibwa dress.

The last half hour or so spent with Spring Blossom was enjoyable to Amelia. There was a language barrier to over-
come, but she thought they’d managed to communicate quite well.

As the two women joined the gathering, Amelia felt slightly uncomfortable amidst the Ojibwa, many of whom looked fierce in their ceremonial finery. With faces painted and their hair adorned, they appeared as different from white men as any people she’d ever seen. On closer inspection, Amelia noticed a serenity about the Ojibwa, a gladness of being together in thanks for the child and for what the spirits had given them. She relaxed and followed Spring Blossom to where a group of women sat on rush mats. Someone placed a mat on the ground for her and Spring Blossom. She and her new Ojibwa friend sat down with the others. The Ojibwa had donned special dress for the occasion. Many of the women, usually bare-breasted, wore either dresses held on by straps worn over their shoulders or tunics with leggings. Sleeves to the dresses, like Spring Blossom’s, were separate pieces tied on to each arm. Their jewelry was made from shells, dyed porcupine quills, copper, silver, and glass beads that they’d received in trade from the white settlement. Amelia noticed that some of the matrons wore the cross necklaces made by the missionaries and garments of linen fabric, obviously traded from the whites. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that those captured at the mission would be found and rescued.

Amelia heard the beat of Ojibwa drums, and the women, who’d been chatting among themselves, became quiet. All eyes became centered on the line of Indian men who danced in a line to take their places to form a circle with the women, the children, and the elderly.

Someone sat on the other side of Amelia. She glanced over and saw an elderly woman with gray hair fixed into two braids and a linen dress that had to have been ac-
quired from a white trader. She watched the men as each took their place among the gathering, then she gestured toward one old man who stood in the center of the circle.