Destiny's Bride (26 page)

Cecile focused her attention on the strong, muscled shoulders of her husband, who rode in front of her. The fluid movements of his handsome body provided a welcome distraction, and kept her attention until they reached flatland. Fingernail indentions marked her palms, clear evidence she’d clenched the reins too tightly.

She scanned the vast flatness of the prairie, finding it quite different than what she remembered. The brown grasses that danced in the strong winds of the late fall had turned to an endless sea of swaying green decorated with colorful wildflowers as foretold by her husband. The horses tramped through the knee-deep grass, bringing, the prairie alive with all types of birds and animals skittering to safety.

The children frolicked through the tall pastures, singing songs of the renewal of the land; the girls plucked flowers and placed them in each other’s hair while the young boys aimed invisible bows at the fleeing rabbits and cheered when make-believe arrows found their mark. They were hunters in training, eager for the real thing.  One day, Two Clouds would be old enough to join in the fun.

Cecile smiled at the image of a miniature Lone Eagle running amuck with the other children. Despite noisy laughter and childish war whoops, the constant plodding and rocking motion of his first long horseback journey fastened to his mother’s back had lulled Two Clouds into a deep sleep.

  She pondered his future.  As a young warrior, numerous rituals lay ahead for him: his vision quest, visits to the sweat lodge, and joining other tribes at the yearly Sun Dance. She grimaced, remembering Lone Eagle’s tales of the dance and the skewered skin endured by the men. Why did they put themselves through such torture?  She still didn’t understand.

With the arrival of summer she’d experience it firsthand. Frightened or not, her participation in this and other customs would only draw her closer to her new people and help her and her son understand tribal beliefs.

Several days of travel left a defined path in the green carpet of the plains. The tall grasses ended at the bank of a fast-running river.  Lone Eagle circled back and reined his horse next to hers.  “Beautiful, isn’t it?  The fish are bound to be plentiful this year as the melting snow has given us more water this year.” 

“The river is beautiful, but way too bright.”  The glistening reflection of the sun on the water blinded Cecile.  She shielded her eyes.  Was this to be their new home?

Chief Broken Feather answered her unasked question when he motioned for everyone to stop and dismount. From the immediate whoops of excitement, she now knew for certain they had reached their destination.  The noise awoke Two Clouds who joined in the noisy raucous with cries of hunger.

The jubilation was short-lived as the women immediately turned to setting up their new campground before darkness fell. Since Cecile had assisted in disassembling the lodges, the task of erecting them was easy; now the framework made sense. Depending upon the tepee’s size, they draped anywhere from eight to twenty buffalo skins over the frame. They joined the coverings at the top of the lodge pole with wooden pins.

Working alongside Rain Woman, Cecile noticed a similarity in the village set up. “Why is it important to always have the entrances facing east?”

“We don’t want what we so carefully put up to blow down. The west wind on the prairie often blows with much strength. . If the lodge door is tilted slightly toward the east, the wind’s power is lessened.”

The explanation made little sense.  The wind blew from different directions, but since she’d never lived in a tepee before, Cecile shrugged, secure again in the endless knowledge of the old woman.

Tribe members bargained and argued over whose tepee would be erected where. Voices lifted and people huffed away, settling for a second choice spot. The chief’s dwelling would be the hub around which the village was built. Families tended to live in clusters, so there’d be no bargaining necessary for Lone Eagle. As next in line to be the chief, he and his kin were assured a prime spot.

The village was completed before darkness set in. The lodges were up, campfires lit, and already the enticing smells of the evening meals wafted through the air. A young girl had tended Two Clouds most of the day, and he barely made a sound.  Now he loudly protested his hunger. Grateful for the respite from carrying in their belongings and putting them away, Cecile ducked inside her newly erected home to feed her child.  Their fire hadn’t even been lit yet.

Lone Eagle carried in an armful of stones and arranged them in a circle.  After a second trip outside, the returned with several pieces of wood and, very soon, welcoming flames danced within the fire ring.  He toted in their belongings, dropping bundles against a far wall.  The parfleches he brought inside would eventually line the tepee walls, serving as storage for smaller items.  An adjacent wall would house his bow and arrows and medicine bag.

With her baby at her breast, Cecile took a deep breath. “I feel like I’m home again. I still have work to do, but once I’m done, I’m sure everything will be perfect again.

“Did you know the tepee is considered a good mother who shelters and protects her children,” said Lone Eagle. “Much like you do with our son.”

Cecile smiled at him, amused at his comparison. She’d learned that the Sioux were very family-oriented, with all elder members of the tribe called mother, grandmother, father, or grandfather as a matter of respect. As a new mother she was pleased to be among the honored. “Good mother or tepee, I’m just happy to be home. But I do have a question. Why does it seem that the women have more than their share of responsibilities?”

“You will see the men work hard when the time comes to hunt buffalo.”

“True, the men slay the buffalo, but the women tan the hides. They make the robes, blankets, and clothing. I know marriage in the Sioux tribe is a partnership, but sometimes it seems a little lopsided.”

“What does it mean, this lopsided?” He arched his brow.

“It means more one way than the other.”

She noted the indignant look on his face. “Oh, I don’t mean in our home. I’m very lucky to have you as my husband.”

In the privacy of their lodge, Lone Eagle did far more than most husbands. She would keep his contribution to the chores their little secret, never wanting to embarrass him in front of the other braves.

Two Clouds had ceased nursing; he'd fallen asleep. His bow-shaped lips displayed a contented smile, and with a full stomach and a dry bottom, he would sleep through till morning. Exhausted, Cecile tucked him into his blankets, straightened and pressed a hand against her rumbling stomach.

As if on cue, Rain Woman appeared with a piping hot bowl of rabbit stew for dinner. The delicious smell permeated the entire lodge, and from the way Lone Eagle quickly accepted the bowl, it was obvious he was ready to savor the welcome treat. “Thank you, Grandmother, but we insist you join us.”

Her toothless smile indicated glee at the invitation. “I have already eaten, but I would be happy to stay for a while.”

Cecile patted the mat next to her, anxious to hear more tales of Rain Woman’s bygone days. It was from listening to Un`ci that Cecile learned that the men of the Sioux were considered mighty warriors feared by most other tribes, and despite their fearless reputation, they valued their responsibility to their families above all else.

“The Wakanish, or, as you would say, children, are the center of importance in our village—our future.” Rain Woman’s eyes sparkled in the firelight. “Waka means sacred, and that is how we think of them.”

Cecile glanced at Two Clouds, sleeping soundly with his little fist against his pudgy cheek. She truly agreed with the meaning of the word.

“In almost all villages, the women outnumber the men. Many of our men are lost during buffalo hunts and others during raids on other tribes.”  Rain Woman’s age and experiences provided her with a never-ending source of topics.

Cecile shuddered. The thought of losing Lone Eagle during a buffalo hunt had never crossed her mind. Of course, he’d mentioned his brother had been killed during a raid, but she didn’t make the connection. Would there be raids? She feared asking.

“You know, Lone Eagle took care of Spotted Doe and Little Elk when his brother went to the spirit world,” the old grandmother continued. “Such happens often, and sometimes our men take more than one wife to provide for one who has lost her husband.”

Cecile stifled a gasp. More than one? She’d never noticed a lodge where two wives dwelled. The idea of multiple marriages formed a knot in her throat. A sudden image of another woman sharing the same lodge and bed with her beloved Lone Eagle crossed through Cecile’s mind, setting her cheeks ablaze.  “Well, I will never share Lone Eagle with another woman! I am all the wife he needs.” Her loud and abrupt tone caused her husband to chuckle.

She cast him an icy stare.  “I have no idea what you find so amusing.  I mean it what I said.  I will not share you or my home with another woman.”

“No need to tell the entire village, my Green Eyes, or to be so angry over something that will never happen.  Yes, you are the only wife I need or want.”

Rain Woman fidgeted and quickly changed the subject. Her tale about women of the Sioux nation regained Cecile’s intent interest. She’d witnessed some of the tribal ceremonies and knew of the vision quests from Lone Eagle. Now she was learning about rituals celebrated on behalf of the young females.

“No time is more significant than when a young woman experiences the first blood that notes her rite of passage into womanhood.”  Rain Woman continued regaling Cecile with facts. “The young girl tells her mother, who in turn tells the father, who shares the news with the entire village. The occasion is a time to celebrate with feasting and dancing.

Strange, how differently some things were treated within the red world. Such a private matter was strictly taboo for discussion in Cecile’s previous life.

Lone Eagle cleared his throat and stood. “I go to seek the company of my father and a conversation more suited to a man.”

She gave a distracted wave and leaned on her knees, waiting for more from the old grandmother. Rain Woman was like a well that never ran dry, and as the hours passed, Cecile found it increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open and her attention focused.

Feeling a kiss against her forehead, she peeked through half-lidded eyes and saw Lone Eagle spreading a blanket over her. “Where is Rain Woman?” she asked through a yawn. “I didn’t hear the end of the story.”

Lone Eagle shrugged. “She must have returned to her lodge. You were asleep when I came in.”

As she dozed off again, Cecile muttered, “I don’t know how a woman of her years can keep going for so long and still have energy.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

Two Clouds’ hungry cries woke Cecile. She sat and rubbed her eyes, trying to focus. Lone Eagle was gone, having left the lodge without waking her. She wondered where he was. It was unlike him to leave her sleeping. Perhaps he figured she needed the rest.

She heard children’s laughter outside and smelled the enticing aroma of morning meals wafting in the air. The baby’s wailing got louder.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming.” She donned her dress, but left it untied at the neck.

Two Clouds latched hungrily onto her nipple, his dark eyes sparkling as he suckled. She sat cross-legged, wishing she’d gone outside or at least opened the privacy flap. The air in the lodge was stifling, and the baby’s body heat made the temperature even less bearable.

She fingered a lock of his baby fine hair. Fate had been kind to give him Walt’s dark locks and olive skin. It eased her worry about anyone doubting Lone Eagle as the father.  She caressed her little one’s cheek, feeling sweat bead across her brow. “Please hurry up and finish sweetheart. It’s hot in here.”

Cecile strapped the baby into his cradleboard, put her arms through the straps, then swung him onto her back. She wondered how much longer he’d be content being restrained. A good baby, he only cried when he was hungry. She hoped that didn’t change.

She scanned the grounds for Lone Eagle. A group of women sat together sewing hides to finish the sweat lodge, but there was no sign of her husband. She strolled over and watched the women work, still amazed at all the buffalo provided. Besides the covering for the ceremonial lodge, even the thread they used was made from tendons that ran along the animal’s backbone.

The women chattered like magpies as they worked. The scene reminded Cecile of a good old quilting bee in Silver City. She was about to sit and join in when Lone Eagle rode into camp.

“Over her, Lone Eagle” she called and waved, attracting his attention.

He trotted his horse in her direction, reining in the animal so close, its breath warmed her face.

“Where have you been all morning, husband?” She backed away, still fearing the animal’s ability to nip at her, although he never had.  Any large animal frightened her—something about their untrusting gazes and huge teeth instilled distrust.

“The herd cleared away all the grass in the pasture, so we moved them to where food and water are plentiful.”

Even though nervous, she recognized that horses were considered the most valuable tribal possessions, and always a priority. She stepped up and stroked the nose of Lone Eagle’s mount with a quivering hand. “I don’t know who you take better care of, me or your horse.”