ChasetheLightning (24 page)

The women packed up the contents of their lodges, prepared
food for the journey, and gathered their children together. The men rounded up
the horses, and they were ready to go.

Amanda felt a strange sense of loss as she followed Trey out
of the canyon. She had been married there, discovered the true meaning of
intimacy and love there. In a way, she had grown up there. And now they were
leaving. She glanced back as they cleared the entrance, knowing with a clear
certainty that she would never see it again.

There was a holiday air among the People as they traveled
toward their winter stronghold. The young men rode up and down the line,
showing off their horsemanship, which Amanda found quite spectacular. The young
women watched it all while pretending to be disinterested. Young mothers nursed
their children on horseback. The warriors rode at the head of the column, and
at the back, keeping watch. The horse herd brought up the rear of the caravan,
guarded by teenage boys and a handful of seasoned warriors.

Amanda glanced at the women riding nearby. Save for the
color of her hair, she looked like any other Apache woman. It gave her a keen
sense of satisfaction to know she fit in with the Indians more every day, that
they regarded her as a friend. She had been so afraid they would shun her
because she was white, the enemy, but, for the most part, they had made her
feel welcome. All except Red Shawl. Amanda had been able to avoid the woman in
camp for the most part, but now on the march, she saw her glaring at her from a
distance.

When Trey rode up a short time later, she asked him about
the woman.

“What’s Red Shawl’s problem?”

“Problem?” He frowned. “I didn’t know she had a problem.
What is it?”

“Not exactly a problem,” she said, realizing he had taken
her literally. “I mean, I don't think she likes me. I don’t know why. I’ve
never done anything to her. Why doesn’t she like me?”

He hesitated. “Perhaps she’s jealous.”

“Jealous? Why?”

“We’re old…friends.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. When we were growing up, she hinted that she’d like
to be my woman.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, but I was too young at the time. She’s about five
years older than I am. I wasn’t interested in women then. I wasn’t interested
in anything but avenging my father’s death. She got upset when she found out I
was leaving the tribe.”

“Well, I think she’s still upset. Did she ever get married?”

Trey shrugged. “I don’t know. Want me to ask her?”

“What do you think?”

“Just trying to help,” he replied, stifling a grin.

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re not jealous of her, are you?”

“Of course not.”

But she was, and they both knew it.

* * * * *

It was a long day. Amanda was bone-weary by the time the
People stopped for the night. When Trey came to take her horse, she sank down
on the ground, too tired to think of anything but sleep.

And sleep she did. When she woke, it was full dark and the
camp was set up for the night. Most of the women and children were asleep. Most
of the men, too, save a few who were talking quietly a short distance away, and
those whose duty it was to stand the first watch.

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Amanda sat up, looking
around for Trey, but he was nowhere in sight. He had covered her with a blanket
and left a small fire burning to warm her. She smiled at his thoughtfulness.
Where was he?

Needing some privacy, she wrapped the blanket around her
shoulders and walked a little ways away from the fire, out of sight of the rest
of the camp. She paused where underbrush began to thicken, wondering if it was
safe to walk any further in the dark. While she was trying to decide, she heard
Trey's voice coming from deeper in the brush, speaking rapid Apache. She peered
into the darkness, looking for an opening in the thick undergrowth that might
lead toward him, but before she could move, she heard a softer voice answering
his. A woman's voice. She hesitated, feeling as though her insides had turned
to ice

Trey spoke again. She couldn't make out individual words. If
only they would speak louder, and slower!

The woman’s reply carried an intimacy that was recognizable
in any language. Amanda’s heart began to pound in her ears as Trey spoke again,
somewhat more sharply.

The woman’s reply was louder, too, the intimacy replaced by
anger.

Amanda heard a twig snap, and shrank back into the shadows.

Trey and Red Shawl moved into a patch of moonlight, walking
close together. Too close together. Red Shawl spoke again, her voice low. Trey
shook his head. Amanda stood stock-still and tried to be invisible. They passed
within yards of her. Red Shawl spoke again, her voice harsh, and then turned
away from Trey. Trey put his hand on her shoulder in what appeared to be a
gesture of appeasement and said something in a soothing voice. Amanda stared at
him, shocked by the sight of him touching another woman. He said something
else, and Red Shawl shrugged his hand off angrily. He turned and strode back
toward camp

Trey was sitting on their bedroll when she returned.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked.

She gestured toward the trees. “I needed some privacy. Where
have you been?”

“Talking to an old friend.”

“Oh?” She stared at him, one hand clutching the blanket, her
heart pounding loudly in her ears.

He nodded, and she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

Trey clenched his hands, his gaze sliding away from hers,
and then he stood up.

Amanda looked up at him, afraid to speak, afraid to move for
fear she might shatter into a million pieces.

He closed the distance between them, his hands folding over
her shoulders. “I was talking to Red Shawl.”

His admission left her feeling physically weak.

“What did she want?”

“She told me she knew how difficult it must be for me to
have a wife who was not Apache, who didn’t understand our ways. She hinted,
rather strongly, that she wouldn’t mind being my second wife.”

“Oh, really?” Amanda exclaimed. “And what did you tell her?”

“Calm down, sweetheart. I told her you were woman enough for
me.”

“Calm down! Calm down! I am calm.”

“Yeah,” he said, laughing softly as he drew her up against
him. “I can see that.”

“Second wife! The day you take a second wife is the day
they’ll be handing you your head on a platter!”

“I’m glad you’re not jealous.”

She glared at him, and then felt the sick wave of jealousy
rush out of her. She couldn't stay mad at him, not when he was looking at her
like that. “Well,” she admitted, “maybe just a little. Okay, a lot!”

He held her tightly. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go to bed.”

* * * * *

The next day, the news that Trey and Red Shawl had met alone
in the woods was suddenly, mysteriously, being whispered among the women
throughout the camp. Not that it was really much of a mystery, Amanda thought.
She hadn’t said anything. She knew Trey hadn’t said anything, and she was
pretty sure no one else had been in the woods the night before. That only left
Red Shawl. Second wife indeed!

“Over my dead body,” Amanda muttered under her breath as she
rolled their bedding. “I’d as soon invite a rattlesnake into our lodge.”

“You say something?”

She looked up to find Trey regarding her, one brow raised
inquisitively. “No, nothing.”

He grunted softly. “You ready to go?”

“Whenever you are.”

* * * * *

It was another long day of travel. Amanda couldn’t take her eyes
from Trey. Clad in clout and moccasins and mounted on the flashy white
stallion, his long black hair trailing down his back, Trey left a
never-to-be-forgotten image indelibly printed on her mind.

They stopped every couple of hours to rest the horses and
again at mid-day for something to eat. Women took advantage of the time to
nurse their infants, or let their toddlers run out some of their boundless
energy. Amanda used the time to stretch her legs, or steal a kiss from Trey
when no one was looking.

It was late afternoon when they stopped for the night
alongside a shallow stream. It was a pretty spot, quiet, peaceful. While Trey
took the horses down to the water to drink, Amanda spread their blankets on the
ground and then went in search of wood for a fire.

She walked along the edge of the stream, winding in and out
of the scrub brush and trees, pausing now and then to pick up a stick here and
there. The camp was out of sight when she felt a sudden prickle along the back
of her neck, a sense of someone watching her. Glancing over her shoulder, she
looked back the way she had come, but there was no one in sight.

“Probably just your imagination,” she muttered, and
continued on her way.

But the feeling persisted. She told herself she was just
being silly, but the sense of being watched wouldn’t go away and a few minutes
later she turned around and headed back to camp, her footsteps quickening.

She was almost running when she came upon the snake. Coiled
in a patch of fading sunlight, it hissed at her, its tail rattling a warning.
She came to an abrupt halt, sweat popping out on her brow, fear like a dead
weight in the pit of her stomach. What was she supposed to do? Run? Back up?
Stay put? She couldn’t seem to draw her gaze from the snake’s triangular-shaped
head, or the forked tongue continually darting in and out of its mouth.

She glanced around. There was nowhere to go but back. The
stream was to her left, a thick stand of spiny brush to her right.

“Amanda. Amanda!”

She looked up, relief washing through her when she saw Trey
standing a few yards beyond the snake.

“Stay there,” he said quietly. “Don’t move.”

She nodded, watching in horror as he picked up a long stick
and walked closer to the snake. In one smooth gesture, he slipped the branch
under the snake, and flipped it into the water.

With a sob, Amanda dropped the wood she had been carrying
and hurled herself into Trey’s arms.

“Hey, it’s alright.”

She nodded, unable to stop the shivers that coursed through
her body. “I k-know. But I was so…so…scared.”

“Of course you were.” His hand stroked her hair, her back.
“Come on, let’s go back to camp.”

“All…all right.”

Gathering the wood she had dropped, Trey tucked it under his
arm. “You did the right thing,” he said, taking her hand. “If you see another
one, just don’t move. Unusual, for them to be out this late in the day.”

When they got back to camp, Trey insisted she sit down. He
built a fire, made a pot of coffee, and poured her a cup. Coffee was one of the
few things that was familiar in this alien world and she sipped it slowly,
grateful for the warmth seeping through her.

Around them, the Apaches settled down for the night.
Warriors tethered their favorite horses nearby. Mothers fed their children and
tucked them into bed. Teenage boys went to guard the horse herd; seasoned
warriors went to keep watch over the camp. A baby's cry was quickly silenced.

Later, after dinner, several adults and children gathered
around Walker on the Wind. Amanda sat between Trey and Yellow Calf Woman. It
was a lovely night. The moon was full and yellow. A buttermilk moon, her
grandmother used to call it. Millions of stars twinkled like silver fireflies
against an indigo sky. She rested her head on Trey’s shoulder as Walker on the
Wind began to speak.

“When the People emerged from the underworld, they traveled
toward the south for four days,” Walker on the Wind began. “They had only two
kinds of seeds for food. The seeds were ground between two flat stones.

“Near the place where they made their camp on the fourth
night, one tipi stood apart from the others. When those who lived in the tipi
were gone, a raven came and left a bow and a quiver of arrows on the lodge
pole. When the children who lived in the lodge came out, they looked inside the
quiver and found some meat. They ate it, and grew very fat.

“When the mother returned to the lodge, she saw the grease
on the hands of her children. They told her what had happened. The woman
quickly told the story to her husband. The members of the tribe marveled at the
food that had made the children so fat in such a short time.

“When Raven learned that his meat had been stolen, he flew
to his home in the mountains to the east. A bat followed Raven. He went back
and told the People where the raven lived. That night, the chief of the People
called a council meeting. He chose several brave warriors to go after Raven in
hopes of getting more of Raven’s meat.

“The warriors reached the camp of the ravens four days
later. When they could not find the meat, they decided to spy on the ravens.
That night, the
diyini
changed an Apache boy into a puppy. They left him
behind to spy on the ravens.

“Next morning, a young raven found the puppy in the
abandoned camp of the People. He asked if he could keep the puppy under his
blanket. Later, the puppy peeked out and saw one of the raven’s remove a flat
stone from the fireplace and disappear inside. A short time later, the raven
returned leading a buffalo, which was killed and eaten by the ravens.”

Amanda glanced around. Though she was certain the Indians
had heard the story many times before, both the children and the adults
listened in wide-eyed wonder as Walker on the Wind went on with the tale.

“The puppy spied on the ravens for four days. When he was
certain where the ravens obtained their food, he resumed his own shape. On the
fifth morning, holding a white feather in one hand and a black one in the
other, he went through the hole in the fireplace.

“In the underworld, he saw four buffalo. He put the white
feather into the mouth of the one nearest to him and told it to follow him. But
the first buffalo told him to give the feather to the last buffalo. The boy did
as he was told, but the last buffalo told him to give the feather back to the
first one.