Fireblossom (32 page)

Later, in the afterglow of slow, sweet lovemaking, Maddie moved her cheek against his chest and blinked back the tears that stung her own eyes. How could she convince him to share his problem with her? That whatever tormented him could be defused and banished if he would only speak the words? She felt closer to him now, closer than ever, yet there were huge barriers in their way... barriers that only Fox could breach. Maddie could help him, but only if he let her inside.

"Maddie?" Fox's voice was hoarse under the drumbeat of the rain. At least the thunder and lightning had stopped and the wind had died down.

She rose on an elbow and studied him, lying on his back on the bed of furs. Flickering shadows from the last of the fire played over his chiseled face, and although he appeared relaxed, Maddie could feel the tension in his body. Was he going to confide in her at last?

Smiling, she traced the line of his cheekbone with her fingertips. "You called?"

He gave her a perfunctory smile that failed to erase the pain in his eyes. "I have to tell you..."

"Yes?" She leaned nearer, all her love focused on him.

"I'm not sure what possessed me earlier, when I was so... forceful. If I ever treat you like that again, or even yell at you, my advice is to walk away from me and never come back." Fox cupped her chin, thinking that he didn't deserve her devotion and patience. "I've never mistreated a woman before, though, so I think I can safely promise that it'll never happen again."

Maddie was disappointed. Instead of sharing his feelings, his problems,
himself,
Fox was discussing his behavior, keeping her at arm's length... still. "Oh, don't worry about me," she said at last, with a jaunty smile. "I'm not helpless! I may be a lot littler than you, but I'm resourceful. I would find some way to incapacitate you!"

He chuckled, rubbing his eyes. "I'll bet you would. Well, now that I've got that off my chest, I feel like I could shut my eyes and be dead asleep. I'd forgotten that those councils go on for hours and hours, smoking, talking, and smoking and talking some more." He yawned. "Let's go to sleep, shall we, Fireblossom?"

"And what's this 'Fireblossom' all about?" Maddie demanded, with a playful shake of his shoulder.

He opened one eye. "It seems to be your Lakota name. Not every day they have a red-haired woman in their midst! Now come on and lie down here. It's almost dawn."

Snuggling into the crook of his arm, Maddie fidgeted, her eyes open wide. "Fox?"

"What?"

"Aren't we ever going to talk about the real truth?"

He tensed slightly. "You mean Sun Smile?"

"No, that's not what I mean," she said, with a pang of guilt as she realized how little she had thought of Sun Smile that evening. "I know that you'll let me know as soon as there is word of her, and I understand that these things take time." She took a deep breath. "I'm talking about your secret. The shadow that haunts you. It's what causes your moods, you know, including the one that made you act that way earlier. You can't keep running away from whatever it is, Fox. You must face this, and—"

His eyes opened and he fixed Maddie with a clear, ocean blue stare that caused her to stop speaking in mid-breath. "I know," Fox said plainly.

She gulped, shocked. "You
do?"

"
I'm not as obtuse as I pretend to be, sweet. I know everything you've just said and more. And, if you can be patient for a little while longer, I think I'm just a few steps away from doing battle with my demons." Smiling at the look of joy on her face, Fox closed his eyes again and added, "But first I need my rest. Lie down, woman!"

Beaming, she complied.

Chapter 19

August 8-9, 1876

The morning was magical. Fox rose early, in spite of his protestations about his need for sleep. He whispered to Maddie that he was going with Kills Hungry Bear to swim and maybe hunt a bit on the other side of Bear Butte. Eyes closed, she gave him a sleepy kiss and went back to her dreams.

Among the Lakota, it was customary for a tribal elder to go to each tipi at dawn and call
"Co-o-o!"
to let the people know that it was time to start the day. When the village was on the move, everyone was especially prompt, but at times like these it was less imperative to obey the caller. Maddie heard the call twice outside her tipi door and still she dozed, smiling to herself, thinking about the name Fox had called her. Fireblossom. It was so beautiful that she was afraid to hope the Lakota could have really given her such a lovely gift.

Eventually Strong came to the tipi and called to her new friend. "Fireblossom? Are you sick?"

Maddie scrambled up and threw back the tipi flap. "It's true, then! I have a new name!"

Strong smiled. "Do you like it?"

"It's the most wonderful name I've ever heard!"

"Your hair is much admired. The people could not resist giving you a name that honors your hair and your fair face and form. It is said that you are very pretty, like a flower, and your hair is like a new blossom. That is the best way I can explain it." Suddenly she looked worried. "I was afraid that you might wish for a name that celebrated your spirit. You are not offended?"

"Of course not! I never dreamed that I could be accepted enough by your people to even earn a name. I treasure it. I am honored."

Strong nodded politely, then fell silent. It was clear that she did not understand why Maddie was still inside past dawn, but good manners kept her from inquiring directly. "There are new strawberries growing along the banks of the stream," she volunteered. "It is unusual to have more of them in these hot days. The women have just noticed them now that they are red, after the rain. We are going to pick them."

"If I hurry and dress, may I come?"

"Why do you think I am here?" Strong teased. "Do not hurry, there is no need. The berries are for all of us to share."

As she struggled into a chemise and drew a frayed gown of red calico over her head, Maddie inquired, "What is your word for strawberries?"

"Wazusteca,"
Strong replied. She was fascinated by the sight of her friend trying to dress unassisted.

"Waz-us-te-ca," Maddie repeated carefully. "That's pretty."

"Uh..." Strong hesitated. "Do you ever think that your clothes are..."

"Foolish?" Maddie supplied cheerfully. "When I lived in a city and everyone dressed like this, I didn't think about it, but it became harder and harder to get into my gowns after we came West. I don't know why they are made so that a woman cannot dress herself. Will you help me?" She turned her back and gazed beseechingly over one shoulder. Strong obliged, staring at the fastenings with an expression of bewilderment—truly only a white person could have made something so impractical and silly! Maddie added fuel to the fire by spinning a hilarious description of a corset, the white woman's self-induced torture to lace that undergarment ever tighter, and ended with a brief account of that ultimate frivolity: silk stockings. By the time she'd finished, Strong had the back of Maddie's gown closed and both women were breathless with laughter.

"At least I have these now," Maddie said as she reached for the moccasins Kills Hungry Bear had brought as a gift. "I'll never be able to squeeze my feet into high-heeled, pointy-toed leather slippers again!"

"You are very happy today," Strong observed as she ducked to emerge from the tipi.

"It is a wonderful day!" She lifted her face to the morning sunshine and immediately beheld a truly spectacular rainbow. Its pure colors appeared to be overlaid by a golden haze and it arched from the western horizon backward to disappear behind Bear Butte. "Look! It's a rainbow!" With childish enthusiasm, Maddie lifted her hand to point.

"No!" cried Strong. She pulled her friend's aim down before Maddie had time to extend her finger. "You must not!"

"What do you mean? I wasn't doing anything wrong!" Stung and surprised, she felt an urge to pull her hand free and point again.

"That is a
wikmunke
," Strong scolded. "It means 'trap.' The
wikmunke
circles the earth and holds it. The Great Spirit has painted it in the sky to trap the rain and bring it back to us."

"That's very charming," Maddie replied, but couldn't suppress a little frown. For the first time, she wondered how intelligent people could actually believe such nonsense. Many of their stories explaining the existence of various animals or facets of the world were like fables—entertaining yet far too simplistic for anyone with real knowledge to believe. She gave Strong a patronizing glance. "And why, pray tell, can't I point at your precious rain trap?"

"Because my people believe that it is dangerous. The
wikmunke
is so powerful that, if you point at it, your fingertip might be made sore and swollen."

When she saw that Strong was completely in earnest, Maddie was ashamed of her condescending attitude. Even if the Lakota explanations were childlike, they were more entertaining than the lessons she had been taught as a child. They knew as much as they needed to in order to carry on their idyllic way of life... but how would they fare if they were forced into the white world?

The very thought sent a shiver of foreboding down Maddie's back.

* * *

Gazing up at one side of Bear Butte and a portion of a rainbow's arc, Fox gave thanks for his life. Cool, sweet water held his body suspended, caressing his naked flesh. He lifted one arm, brought a plum to his mouth, and took half of it in one bite. Juice drizzled down his cheek, then into the water. Fox thought he felt a fish brush his buttocks, but he was too relaxed to flinch. Instead he smiled, squinted, and wondered how far Kills Hungry Bear had drifted.

"I would like it," a voice murmured to him from a short distance downstream," if time could stop and my life could stay just as it is now."

"You don't mean that, Kills Hungry Bear," Fox replied, amused and content. "There are too many pleasures you would miss if you spent your lifetime drifting on your back in the water."

There was a long silence. A breeze blew over their wet bodies and the mood shifted. "Perhaps. I know, too, that I must face the challenges that lie ahead, but it is hard to feel brave, as I do before even a terrible battle, when I can see so clearly into... what is your word?"

"The future?"

"Yes." Kills Hungry Bear had paddled gently toward Fox and now he reached out to touch his friend's cheek. "I know you can see the future, too, and that is why you refuse to answer Crazy Horse's questions."

"If I thought that anything I know would help the Lakota people, I would fill his mind with my knowledge," Fox said, "but I do not know the bluecoats' plans, and what I can guess would only sadden Crazy Horse and your people more. It's hard enough to see all that has changed since I last lived among you. So much has been lost—"

Kills Hungry Bear stood up abruptly. The water reached his chest and he pushed his way through it back to shore, saying, "You may find these changes sad, but agency life would be much sadder! It is"—he looked back at Fox, eyes flashing as he groped for a word
—"pathetic. "

The two men sat together on the bank, dappled with sunlight that filtered through the leaves of the great cottonwood trees. They remained unclothed, their hair wet. Fox's hair curled a little at the base of his neck as it dried; Kills Hungry Bear's hair streamed down his dark back like ink.

"I remember your body turned red from too much sun when you first came to us," Kills Hungry Bear said, with a grin. "It seems a long time ago. We were very young."

"You more so than I." He noticed that his friend was observing not only his lighter skin, but also the hair on his chest, arms, and legs. Kills Hungry Bear would never say so, but Fox knew there was a measure of repugnance mixed with his curiosity. Like the "spotted buffalo," a man who had body hair was considered undesirable and unclean compared with the Lakota men, whose skin was smooth. They sniffed and made jokes about the hairy whites with their unkempt beards and matted chest hair who went for days without washing. The Lakota people bathed daily, even when they had to break ice to have a plunge at the start of their day. Zachary Matthews had told Fox about the habits of the Indians, so when he'd traveled West the first time, he had been clean-shaven. Now he was glad to have shaved his beard upon arriving in Deadwood, to separate himself from Dan Matthews, special adviser to Custer's doomed Seventh Cavalry. His beardless face allowed him to mesh more easily with his Lakota hosts.

"Crazy Horse has returned to
Paha Sapa,"
Kills Hungry Bear said at last. On the opposite bank of the stream, a jack-rabbit paused to nibble a tasty clump of leaves. "Touch-The-Clouds came to the village while we slept and he went with Crazy Horse to see the town where the white men burrow into the hillsides. Short Bull and Black Fox also went, but He Dog refused."

"I would like to see Touch-The-Clouds again," Fox said, with a nostalgic smile, as he conjured up memories of the seven-foot-tall war chief of the Miniconjou band of the Lakotas. His impressive size and dignity inspired fear, but Fox had discovered that he was a fine human being. "It's good to know that such old friends are still with Crazy Horse."