Microsoft Word - Jenny dreamed (16 page)

Dev roughly swept her into his arms, carrying her over to the large, gnarled root where her boots lay. "You sure make a hell of a squaw!" he snapped, brushing her hands away as he held her foot and pulled out the cockleburr that had stuck to her heel. Ignoring her near-tearful protest, he shoved each one of her boots on and tied them just below the knee, then pulled her to her feet with an angry jerk. "Now, if you're not too damned stubborn to listen, get back to camp like I told you to ... before you do yourself some permanent harm!"

Dismissed like a recalcitrant child, made to feel awkward and graceless, Jenny stomped away from Dev, and when she reached the edge of the trail leading up to the village, began to run.

Dev almost called out to her, a warning to be careful of the scrub roots that sometimes wound across the path, but she was quickly out of sight.

He stalked over to the fish, strung them onto a thong he'd pulled from the discarded breechcloth and was about to start back. He was half-tempted to apologize.

No, he thought, throwing the stringer of trout to the ground, I'll be damned if I'll be the one to apologize!

Instead he stripped off his buckskins and headed for the stream to swim. "Let her brood for a while and wonder where I am," he said aloud. At the water's edge, he stretched, entirely naked and enjoying the breeze against his skin. He had just waded in and was nearly waist-deep when he heard a bold giggle from somewhere near shore.

Turning, he was surprised to find a girl peering at him from the sheltering bushes at the stream's north shore.

He only vaguely remembered her as Tall Shadows, one of the willing young maidens some of the braves had been discussing the other day. More in revenge for the way Jenny had treated him after their lovemaking than out of desire, Dev gestured to the girl to join him.

Without a second's hesitation, she stripped away her blouse and skirt and splashed into the water, giggling again as he made a grab for her, playing a game of coy teasing that would only lead to one end.

Jenny pretended to be sleeping when Dev finally returned to their tepee almost an hour after the sun had set. She heard him moving around, stripping off his clothes, and wondered jealously where he'd been for so long. She hadn't made a meal, expecting him to honor his earlier promise to show her how to cook the trout over their cookfire. Had he stopped at some friendly fireside to share a repast or would he expect her to rise now and fix him something? Well, she thought to herself, before I cook anything, he'll have to explain where he's been!

But he didn't bother her, didn't even lie next to her. She heard him grab the spare blanket and settle on the opposite side of the lodge, tossing only a few minutes before the rhythmic sound of his breathing indicated sleep. Jenny glowered in the darkness. He hadn't even given her the satisfaction of a confrontation, and from the way he'd fallen asleep so quickly, she suspected he'd engaged in activities that had tired him even more than their own strenuous bout of lovemaking. Damn him, she cursed silently, almost angry enough to throw something across the tepee. How could he sleep so peacefully when she would be up for hours, wondering.

Gray Hawk stood at the edge of his village, studying his daughter-in-law Jenny as she leaned back against a tree on the hilI overlooking the stream. She had begun repairing one of his son's shirts but had set it aside as the heat of the late summer morning had made her languorous.

By the stream the women were gathering firewood and berries, and two groups of children played, the younger boys of the tribe using their smaller versions of their father's bows in imitation of the hunt, the very young girls pretending to wash clothes as they'd seen their mothers do. Underlying the peace and tranquillity of the scene was an electric tension.

Storm clouds were gathering; Soon everyone would have to scurry for shelter from the storm.

Dev had ridden off with the other braves this morning on a hunt to replenish the tribe's food supplies. His adopted son seemed moody of late, and the chief wondered about his relationship with Mariah's daughter. For a while, after the couple had settled in, they seemed happy together, but almost a week ago there had been a subtle change in the way they looked at each other, as though a wall had been erected to break their closeness.

Perhaps it was the pregnancy-women were often ill-tempered at such times.

He looked on in amusement now as A'Kima, his cousin Saloma's little granddaughter, labored up the hill toward Jenny and paused solemnly before her, shyly extending a blue wildflower as a gift. Gray Hawk was beginning to change his mind about the help his daughter-in-law had offered. The children were drawn to her … and children often saw what their elders did not. Pleased with the way her present had been accepted, little A'Kima skipped away to rejoin her friends, and Gray Hawk turned back in the direction of his lodge.

Jenny smiled to herself, twirling the long stem of the flower in her fingers. A'Kima, her eyes large and dark with the beautiful innocence of childhood, had told her the gift was for the baby. In the distance there was an ominous roll of thunder, and Jenny glanced up, watching the heavy, dark clouds swirl past, propelled by a strong, driving wind. She must retreat to the safety of her tepee before the rains came.

Suddenly a shrill childish scream came from the spot where the little ones had been playing, and Jenny raced down the hill toward the children as several of the other girls began to shriek. Half-hidden by leaves, a roottangled over the trail, and her right foot caught, sending her tumbling to the ground in a fall that knocked the breath from her. For a moment she lay there, dazed, her cheek bleeding from a bramble scratch. Then, panting, she scrambled to her feet.

More carefully now she hurried toward the sounds of distress beyond the heavy cover of bushes to her right. A'Kima lay stretched out on. the ground surrounded by a circle of her terrified friends. She moaned, her eyes half-closed against the pain of the small arrow that had struck the crook of her elbow. A short distance away, the guilty ten-year-old who had been playing at being a brave, stood in awed silence, horror-struck by what he had done and by the thought of the punishment in store for him. One of the boys had already raced off to tell Gray Hawk. As the women crowded into the clearing, and A'Kima's mother, Fox Tails, ran to her side and started to sob, Jenny took charge. Though the wound was not deep, a great deal of blood oozed from the puncture. When Jenny finally penetrated Fox Tails's terror, she held her daughter's arm steady in mute obedience to Jenny's calm, confident voice. Jenny carefully patted away the blood, then made a small incision with a knife borrowed from one of the boys to free the arrow tip. A'Kima would not lose the use of her arm muscles, but she would carry the scar the rest of her life.

Now Jenny had to stanch the flowing blood. Already the child looked pale and listless. Jenny spied a leather thong tied on the arm of one of the boys who pressed closely to watch.

"Give me that," she said in the Blackfoot tongue, and when he hesitated to give up his prized armband, Fox Tails snapped at him so viciously that he had it off in a second.

Jenny tied the improvised tourniquet above the wound, then pressed the bleeding puncture closed. Once the flow was slowed, she would use the sterile needle and sutures in her medical kit. A few stitches should take care of sealing the cut. The worst was over when Gray Hawk arrived. The crowd parted in respect and fear. He thundered an order for the boy whose carelessness had caused the accident to return to his father's lodge until he was sent for, then knelt beside his daughter-in-law and inquired after the well-being of A'Kima. His dark, wise eyes observed the skill and tenderness with which she ministered to the little girl.

It grieved him to admit he'd been wrong, not because of his pride, but because he so obstinately had refused the help Jenny had offered, sure that no one with white skin was sincere in helping those whose skin was darker. "I will carry A'Kima to Saloma's lodge," he said now, but as he reached out to scoop the girl into his powerful arms, Jenny caught his arm.

"Wait, please." She loosened the tourniquet, then sighed with relief when she saw the bleeding had slowed to a trickle. "Carry her slowly, Gray Hawk," she warned, "and try not. to jostle the arm. She could start bleeding again." Then, with a glint of defiance in her eyes, she added, "I'm going to my lodge to get my medical supplies. The wound still needs to be sewn and cleaned to prevent infection." The look in her eyes dared him to refuse her further help, but there was no resistance in the dark eyes that looked back at her. Gray Hawk nodded, carefully lifting the girl and turning to lead the way up the hill.

Jenny closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to quell the rapid beating of her heart. She had won a victory with the chief. After all these weeks of trying to convince him her help was needed, it had taken an emergency to make him see that she had something to offer. Her stomach ached with nervous excitement-the tension she'd felt until the bleeding had stopped. Jenny took in a sharp breath as a cramp hit her, held it for a moment then slowly exhaled. She wavered on her feet as she rose, her vision blurred by little flashes of silver.

She drew several slow, deep breaths, and the dizziness ebbed. Remembering her duty to finish caring' for A'Kima's arm, she pushed on despite the nagging suspicion that she'd hurt herself in the tumble she'd taken earlier. Her progress up the hill was slow, and by the time she'd reached her tepee and found the box of supplies, the downpour had begun. She was muddy and trembling as she reached the tepee on the other side of the village. The cramps were steady and intense now, and she was sure that she was losing the baby. Sheer tenacity kept her going, giving her the false energy needed to clean A'Kirna's arm and take the few stitches with catgut to close the puffed edges of flesh. When the child opened her eyes with a silent thank you, Jenny smiled and took the wild flower from her hair, lovingly returning it to the child.

Jenny paused at the rawhide covering of the tepee, lifting the flap to watch the steady downpour. She felt weak, so weak. Saloma moved near her to thank her for saving her little grandchild, and suddenly cried out, drawing Jenny's attention to her skirt. It was red with blood, her own fresh blood that soaked the material in an ever-widening circle. She felt herself slipping, and heard Saloma calling her husband to help her as she caught Jenny's body and broke her fall. Then there was nothing but darkness and constant, unremitting pain.

Though the storm had passed and the sun was shining once more, an unusual quiet layover the village when the hunting party galloped triumphantly through the center of camp. Small groups of villagers stood about, talking in low, hushed voices; and even the dogs that usually greeted any new arrival with enthusiastic barking seemed to respect the hush that surrounded them. Only a few of them howled at the sound of the shaman's steady chanting before Saloma's lodge.

Gray Hawk came out of his tepee, arms crossed as he greeted the returning party of braves with a solemn nod, then gestured to Dev to join him in the lodge. Dev slid down off of Faro's back, wondering over the silent summons. He felt a sudden panic constrict the muscles of his throat and put a hand out to clutch at Gray Hawk's tunic. "It's Jenny, isn't it? What happened

... where ..."

The chief looked down at the hand that held onto him, then glanced up at his adopted son in stem reproof. "Remember whose son you are, Senomac. Enter the lodge as you were bidden!"

When father and son were alone in the lodge, with no prying eyes to watch and judge, Gray Hawk was less harsh. There was empathy in the deep voice that urged Dev to sit and listen without interruption to all Gray Hawk had to say. Silent and pale, Dev listened as the chief told of the events that had led up to Jenny's collapse at Saloma's lodge. "In her haste to reach the child," he said, "I believe your wife fell. She told no one until A'Kima was cared for

... even then she said nothing."

Dev's voice was dull as he stared into the fire. "How is she now?" "She is strong, my son. She will live. Saloma has been with her the past two hours, and the shaman is-"

"Is what?" Dev interrupted rudely, forgetting the respect due Gray Hawk as his father and chief. "Rattling his gourds and chanting to the spirits? What good ..." he broke off the sentence in frustration, brooding as he stared into the fire.

Gray Hawk was not angered by the outburst. Reflected in Dev's face he saw the concern for Jenny and … yes, whether his son chose to try and hide it, even from himself ... the love for her. It was a bitter reminder to Gray Hawk of the similar emotion he'd felt for Jenny's mother over twenty years before. He reached out to touch his son's arm, wanting to comfort him, then withdrew it, unable to show the emotion he felt. Suffering was a way of life-without its sharp pain, how could anyone truly appreciate the times it was not present?

He rose gracefully from his cross-legged position with the vigor of a much younger man.

"Come," said the father to the son, "we will walk together to Saloma's tepee and see how my daughter fares."

Dev rose wearily, as though he were the elder. Dazed, preoccupied, he failed to note the honor Gray Hawk had bestowed on Jenny by calling her his daughter. What if Jenny ... Dev pushed away the frightening thought that she might die. If only he'd been stronger in his resistance to her plans to come here, he silently berated himself, she might have been spared the pain.

Saloma, coming from her lodge as the two approached, absently wiped at the blood on her hands. She frowned at the sight of Senomac, unhappy at being the one who must tell him the distressing news that the child was lost. In answer to Gray Hawk's question, she said,

"She will live and ... there will be other children." It was not proper to show sympathy or sorrow, but her eyes eloquently revealed her feelings as she added, "The girl is worn by the ordeal and resting now, but see her for a moment."

As Dev swept past her to enter the lodge, Saloma stared into her cousin Gray Hawk's eyes, both of them remembering another who resembled Jenny, a girl who had left them both despairing of any chance for happiness. More adaptable than she'd realized she could be, Saloma had put Jared from her mind and married Tabah within six months. Gray Hawk had married later, but only out of his duty as chief, and his bride had died in childbirth ten months after they'd wed. He had never married again.