Savage Summer (7 page)

“I never had to do anything around our home in Philadelphia, and I have no intentions of laboring in some dirty Indian village,” Danielle cried defiantly.

Joanna could feel her temper rising, but she tried to keep it in check. Perhaps Danielle couldn’t help it if she was spoiled. “You will not find the people of the Blackfoot dirty, Danielle, but neither will you find the comforts you are accustomed to. Why don’t you open your heart and give us all a chance. Perhaps you will even enjoy yourself this summer.”

Danielle’s eyes clouded over. “All I want to do is go home. I will be counting the days until I can leave all this behind forever.”

Joanna sighed deeply, knowing she had a heavy task ahead of her. Danielle would be miserable if she didn’t change her attitude toward the Blackfoot.

“Come, the warriors will be breaking camp by now. We must eat before we start out. Your uncle Windhawk travels at a very fast pace, and you will need all your strength to keep up with him.”

The scantily clad Indian was hidden by a thick bramble bush as he peered at the Blackfoot village across the Milk River. His eyes narrowed as they moved to the center of the village where Windhawk’s lodge stood. His heart burned with bitter hatred, when he thought of the chief of the Bloods. His hatred had festered and grown over the years. He had been but a young boy when Windhawk had ridden into the Piegan Blackfoot village and slain his father, Running Elk.

Scar Face remembered standing over Running Elk’s dead body and vowing revenge against the man who had taken his father’s life.

He looked for signs of life in Windhawk’s lodge, but saw no smoke coming from the top of the lodge. This could only mean that Windhawk and his family were away from the village.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to see his friend, Tall Bear, bend down beside him.

“Scar Face, will you not give up this foolish plan to kill Windhawk? It is said that he is not of this world and cannot be slain. It is said that his enemies all die a horrible death.”

Scar Face stood up, and his hand automatically went to the scar that ran the length of the left side of his face, thus giving him his name. The scar was another reason to hate. It had been given to him in a fight with Wolfrunner, one of Windhawk’s Blood warriors. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at the setting sun.

“If you are afraid, then you can leave, Tall Bear. My fight is not your fight. It is I who will avenge my father by taking the life of the mighty chief of the Bloods,” he spat out.

“I have heard it said that Windhawk is protected by the Great Spirit, Napi, and no man can harm him.”

“I do not believe this to be true,” Scar Face ground out between clenched teeth. “Windhawk is no different from you or me, Tall Bear. When you stick him, he will bleed red, the same as any man.”

“I have heard of his power and strength—it must be true. You must leave with me now!”

“No, I have asked myself what could I do to this man that would be worse than taking his life? I think I know the answer.”

Tall Bear studied his friend closely. Scar Face had acquired his name when he was but twelve summers. He had challenged Wolfrunner for a horse and had lost not only the horse, but nearly his life as well. It was said that he cheated in the fight and tried to strike Wolfrunner down from behind,
but Tall Bear didn’t believe his friend would do such a cowardly deed. Scar Face had been a good friend to him. However, he knew the driving force in his friend’s life seemed to be to avenge his father’s death.

“If you are thinking to kill Windhawk’s white wife, I can tell you that would be very unwise. He would avenge her by burning our village and slaying our people. I heard it said that not too many years ago, two Assiniboin warriors abducted Windhawk’s white wife. The great chief’s vengeance is still talked about around the Assiniboin campfires. It is said he killed many brave warriors that day. Is this what you want for our people?”

Scar Face thought back to last year’s hunting council, when the Piegan and Blood tribes had come together in friendship. At that time he had seen Windhawk’s white wife and his half white daughter. It was then that he had begun to plan his revenge.

“It is said that Windhawk guards his wife jealously and no man could get near her, but what about the daughter, Tall Bear?” Scar Face’s eyes burned with hatred as he looked back toward the Blood village.

“I have seen his daughter, Sky Dancer. She has great beauty. I was once near enough to her to see her sky-colored eyes. At the time the young maiden’s brother never left her side, and I dared not speak to her. No, my friend, you had better forget about killing Sky Dancer.”

“I have also seen the Blood princess many times, but she never spoke a word to me. I will see the day she will beg me for mercy and curse the day she was born from Windhawk’s seed,” Scar Face said, realizing the hatred he felt for Windhawk had now been transferred to the daughter. She would be the target of his revenge!

“What do you plan to do?” his friend asked, feeling great fear at the thought of harming anyone that belonged to the mighty Windhawk.

“I shall wait and watch until I find the young maiden alone. Windhawk will know what it feels like to lose someone
he loves. He will cry out in pain many times before he learns of his daughter’s fate.”

“What will be her fate, my friend?” Tall Bear wanted to know.

Scar Face’s eyes narrowed. “I will take her to the Canadas and sell her to one of the French trappers. Windhawk will never know if she is alive or dead, nor will he know until I tell him that she will be paying the price for my father’s death.”

Scar Face mounted his horse and rode toward the Blood Blackfoot village, knowing he would be welcome there because he belonged to the Piegan Blackfoot tribe.

Tall Bear urged his horse forward, following Scar Face. He feared that his friend would meet an early and agonizing death, but he was his friend and Tall Bear would help him if he could. When Scar Face neared the chief’s lodge, his eyes burned with hatred. He would bide his time, and when the moment was right, he would take from Windhawk the daughter of his heart. He didn’t yet know how that would be accomplished, but she would suffer greatly at his hands before he was through with her!

Reaching up, Scar Face stroked the scar on his face, and hoped that he might also meet Wolfrunner again. He had an old debt to settle with him as well.

Danielle was bone weary and thought they would never reach their destination. They had been traveling for three weeks at breakneck speed. Each morning she was forced to rise early and climb onto her horse. The terrain they were riding through was primitive, and there were no roads. At Joanna’s suggestion, Danielle had finally agreed to abandon her sidesaddle, but she refused to wear the buckskin gown her grandmother had sent her—even though she was told Sun Woman had made the gown with loving care despite her failing eyesight.

She was resigned to the fact that she would have to live with savages, but she would never become one of them!

Danielle walked beside the river, feeling misplaced and lonely. This was not her world, and she resented the fact that she was forced to endure these hardships. She thought of her half brother, who was spending the summer in England with her grandfather. Why did
her
blood have to be tainted with Indian blood? Why couldn’t she have been born to Alexandria? In that moment she almost hated the Indian woman who had given her birth. In Danielle’s estimation, her mother had placed a lifelong curse on her.

A dark shadow fell across Danielle’s face and she looked up to see a young Indian warrior standing beside her. She remembered his name was Wolfrunner. Since the night he had mistaken her for Sky Dancer he had not again approached her. Now she assessed him as a woman would and found him to be very handsome. His dark hair was worn free but for the leather headband that circled it. His chest was bare but for the porcupine necklace he wore. His dark eyes sought hers and Danielle turned away.

“Who are you?” she asked in English.

“I am called Wolfrunner, son of the war chief, Gray Fox.”

She sat down on the riverbank and gazed into the distance. “You speak English well for an Indian,” she couldn’t help observing.

His handsome face eased into a smile. “You speak English well for a half white woman.”

Danielle glanced up to see if the man was mocking her but there was genuine interest in his smile. “How did you learn to speak my language?” she wanted to know.

He sat down nearby and studied her with his dark eyes. “I, like many of the Bloods, was taught by your Aunt Joanna. Windhawk wanted his people to learn the language.”

“A fat lot of good English will do you in an Indian village,” she couldn’t help but say.

“It has enabled me to talk to you. Your uncle tells me that you do not know the language of your mother’s people…why is this?”

Her eyes grew stormy at the mention of her mother. Why
must she always be reminded that her mother was an Indian? “I do not wish to know your heathen tongue, and I don’t want to talk to you either,” she said, turning away and staring at the distant sunset.

Wolfrunner was quiet for so long that Danielle glanced up to see if he had left. Her eyes collided with brilliant black eyes, and she shivered at the anger reflected there. If there could be such a thing as a look of hatred, it was on Wolfrunner’s face now.

“I am a good friend of your cousin, Sky Dancer. We grew up together. I came to you in her behalf, thinking you might be lonely and need someone to talk to. Sky Dancer told me to look after you. I see you do not need looking after.”

He rose to his feet with an agility that surprised Danielle. She knew she had made him angry, but why should she care. What did it matter what Wolfrunner, or any of these Indians thought of her?

“Don’t think because you are a friend of Sky Dancer, that you would be counted among my friends. I am nothing like my cousin.”

She saw his jaw tighten. “That is true, you are nothing like Sky Dancer. She would never look down at another human being as inferior to her. Pity you are not like her in more than looks.”

Danielle felt her cheeks flame as he walked away. Even though she was angry, she couldn’t help noticing the proud tilt of his head and how straight he carried himself. For the first time in her life, she regretted speaking without first weighing the consequences.

In the days that ensued, Danielle would often find herself watching Wolfrunner. He was always in the group of warriors who rode beside her, but as far as she could tell, he paid not the slightest attention to her.

The days seemed to stretch ahead of Danielle, and she watched as civilization as she knew it disappeared into the wild untamed wilderness.

To her surprise she was beginning to warm to her Uncle Windhawk. He was so patient with her, never losing his temper when she asked to stop and rest.

Danielle rode along beside Windhawk, and she became aware that he was watching her closely. “How much longer will it be until we reach your village, Uncle Windhawk? I am so very weary of traveling.”

Windhawk smiled kindly at the young girl, thinking how much Danielle reminded him of his own Sky Dancer. He realized she was having a hard time adjusting to the Indian ways. He remembered when Joanna had first come to his village, and how difficult it had been for her to adjust to the Indian way of life. Given time, he was sure Danielle would come to accept her mother’s people.

“Just beyond that mountain lies my village,” he said, indicating the barrier of rock and stone which seemed to bar their path. “You will sleep in my lodge tonight, Danielle.”

Sky Dancer or Skyler Dancing, as she now tried to think of herself, was amazed by the many strange things she’d discovered in the white world. She was most impressed by the kitchen where the food was prepared. There were wondrous things to behold, such as the beautiful dishes and shining silver on which the food was served.

Each day at the noon meal Alexandria would take Skyler to a little table in the corner of the kitchen, where she would instruct her in how to eat with the fork and spoon. Skyler was intelligent and it didn’t take her any time at all to master the art of eating manners. She could deftly unfold her napkin and place it on her lap. She learned which fork went with what course.

Three afternoons a week a dancing instructor would come
to the house to teach her the latest dance steps. At those times Alexandria would play the spinet and the dance instructor would lead Skyler through the steps.

Alexandria had taken Skyler shopping and she now had gowns, petticoats, undergarments, shoes, bonnets, and silk stockings to match every occasion. She neither enjoyed wearing the tight corset, which was laced tightly about her waist, nor the cumbersome crinolines with their steel rings.

At first, Skyler didn’t think she would ever learn to walk in the stiff, pointed-toe shoes that laced about her ankles. But she practiced walking in them every day, until at last she could at least move about reasonably well.

Skyler was sweet-natured and did everything she was told. She danced with the aged dance master, and she learned to curtsy and bow. She was taught to offer a young gentleman her hand only when she was wearing gloves, and only then if it was her wish. There were so many rules of do’s and don’t’s that it made her head spin. She doubted she would ever remember everything she’d been taught.

It was late in the afternoon when Skyler walked out into the garden. It was lovely and quiet, and she loved to move among the beautiful flowers, smelling the sweet aroma that seemed to fill the air. Everything in this world was so orderly. The flowers had been planted in neat rows, and even the trees formed a line along the drive. It was hard for her to comprehend that one would plant flowers when they grew so profusely on their own in Blackfoot land.

It was truly lovely here, and her aunt and uncle had been so kind to her. Still she felt a loneliness and wished she could soon return to the land of her birth.

She often thought of her brother who was traveling in Europe with her grandfather and cousin. Was he, too, lonely for the land of the Blackfoot?

“It’s not so bad once you become accustomed to it, my dear.” Her Uncle Tag’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

She smiled at him sweetly. “You are reading my mind.”

“That’s not too difficult. I sometimes miss the life I led with the Blackfoot. It is only natural that you should be thinking of your home.”

“Do you ever wish to return to live with my people, Uncle Tag?”

“Yes, but I never will. I have great responsibilities here. When I feel everything closing in on me, I go to Meadow-lake Farm for a while, and that helps.” Tag noted the sadness in her eyes. “Are you terribly unhappy here, Skyler?”

“No, you and Aunt Alexandria have been wonderful to me, and I love you a great deal…”

“But?”

She smiled at her uncle. “But I do get homesick sometimes.”

He placed his arm about her shoulder and they walked along the garden path together. “This summer will not last forever. Before you know it you will be leaving us. It is my hope that when you leave, you will look back at this summer with fondness.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I will always remember your love and thoughtfulness. My mother loves you a great deal, and I can now see why.”

He stopped and gazed down into her face. “To look at you one would think you were a well brought up young lady. You have a kindness of heart that seems to draw people to you. You look so like Danielle, and yet I wish she had more of your gentle nature.”

They stopped beside a pond, and Skyler looked at her own reflection. She hardly recognized the image that stared back at her. Suddenly it felt as if she was losing her own identity. Glancing at her uncle, she didn’t realize that much of what she was feeling was written in her eyes. At the moment she reminded him of Morning Song, more than Danielle ever had, and he felt a pain surround his heart.

“Never fear, my dear, you will never lose the person you are. Those things that make you the person you are will stay with you forever. Even when you are gone from this world
you will be remembered for the person you are today.” He was thinking about his dead wife, Morning Song, something he rarely did anymore.

Skyler stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You are very gallant, Uncle Tag. I would wager that Aunt Alexandria counts herself fortunate that you are her husband.”

Tag smiled. “I have been very fortunate for having known two exceptional women. Morning Song and Alexandria. They were as different as two women could be, but each special in her own way.”

“Do you still think of Morning Song?”

“I hadn’t until lately. Morning Song was a part of my past, but she gave me a daughter. Since being with you she is never very far from my thoughts. What I felt for her isn’t the same feelings that I have for Alexandria. Morning Song was the love of my youth—Alexandria is the love of my heart.” Morning Song’s image danced fleetingly through Tag’s mind. He saw a vision of soft brown eyes and a gentle smile. “Yes, I remember her very clearly at times.”

“I don’t think my mother and father could ever love anyone else, do you?”

“No. Windhawk and Joanna were meant to be together. You will one day meet a man who is right for you, then you will understand love better.”

“I suppose, but it is not easy being a Blackfoot princess. My father has told me I cannot marry just anyone.”

Tag chuckled. “I doubt that Windhawk would think anyone is good enough for you. Fathers are like that. Is there no young warrior whom you favor?”

“No, not yet. I began to think I will never meet a man who will love me.”

Again he chuckled. “My dear young niece, I don’t think that will be a problem. You are very lovely and the Blackfoot warriors would have to be blind not to see that. No…I am sure all the young men are put off because of who your
father is. I would not like to be the one to have to ask Windhawk for your hand, would you?”

Her laughter joined his. “No, my father can be very formidable to those who do not know him.”

Tag reached over her head. He plucked a large white blossom and handed it to her and watched her face carefully. “Did your aunt tell you that you will be going to a ball at the end of the week?”

Skyler lowered her eyes, feeling fear at the thought of meeting so many strangers. “Yes, but I wish I didn’t have to go. I might make a mistake that would shame you and Aunt Alexandria.”

“You will do no such thing. I think it is very important for you to meet young people your own age. Your mother wanted you to learn about the difference between your two worlds. The best way to accomplish that is by being with those of your age. Don’t you agree?”

Skyler sighed heavily. “I will go, but I won’t have fun.”

He patted her hand affectionately. “We will see, my dear, we will see.”

As they walked to the house, the sun was setting, and Skyler was overcome with melancholy. There was a restlessness within her that she couldn’t explain. It went deeper than just being homesick. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a young lady and there was no young man in her life. She had never thought much about the love between a man and a woman. Until now she had been content with life the way it was.

As they approached the house, Skyler tried to imagine her mother walking this same path as a young girl. Her mother had been surrounded with wealth and beautiful things and yet she had given it all up when she had met Skyler’s father. Would she ever love a man that much?

Tag drew her into the house and smiled at her tenderly. “Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up, my dear little niece. That time will come all too soon. You must enjoy life while
you have the chance.” Tag had the strangest feeling that Skyler didn’t belong to the Indian world. Her grace and beauty seemed to shine forth like a beacon. Perhaps Joanna had taught her daughter the white man’s ways too well. Skyler was more white than Indian.

Skyler lay in the big soft bed watching the shadows flicker across the ceiling. She felt strangely close to her mother. Here in this room that had been her mother’s, Skyler could almost hear her laughter. Her thoughts were heavy as she examined her mother’s love for her father. She had never thought about it before, but it must have been very difficult for her mother to turn her back on this world to live in the Blackfoot village.

The bedroom door opened and Alexandria entered. “I saw the light on under the door and knew you weren’t sleeping. Would you like me to sit and talk to you for a while?”

Skyler sat up and patted the bed. “Yes, I would welcome your company.”

Alexandria sat down and reached for Skyler’s hand. “I realize everything has been strange to you, but you have come along beautifully. I have little doubt that you will be the belle of the ball Friday night.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go,” Skyler said, looking into her aunt’s strange, golden-colored eyes.

“Nonsense, you are going to have a wonderful time. I wish I was young again.”

“You are not old, and you are so lovely.”

Her aunt smiled at the compliment. “Thank you for that, but I feel very old tonight.”

For the first Skyler noticed that her aunt seemed pale. “Are you not feeling well?” she inquired with concern.

Alexandria smiled. “It is nothing to worry about. In fact, I am deliriously happy. I just learned today that I am expecting a baby. Your uncle is beside himself with joy.”

“That is wonderful! I am so happy for you and Uncle Tag.”

“Children are such blessings. You are a shining example
of that. I have been blessed with a son, and Danielle is like my own daughter. Your mother feels very much the same about children as I do. It’s a pity she and Windhawk didn’t have more babies.”

“I know my mother would like nothing better than to have another baby, but she has been told by Matoka, the medicine woman, that it would be impossible. Matoka is very wise. She always delivers all the babies of the women in our village.”

“Yes, it’s a pity. Joanna is such a good mother,” Alexandria said sadly.

“You must allow me to help you. I would be only too delighted to do anything to make your load lighter. You have only to say what you want me to do.”

Alexandria stood up and kissed Skyler’s cheek. “I may very well take you up on that. The doctor has told me I must take it easy, and your uncle is most insistent that I do just that.”

“We shall see that you do not overdo, Aunt Alexandria. When will the baby be born?”

“Not until around Christmas. I fear you will be back home before your new cousin comes into the world.”

Skyler scrambled out of bed. “Would you like me to see you to your bedroom?”

Alexandria laughed at the concern on the young girl’s face. “No, I am not yet an invalid. I have given birth once before without difficulty; I expect I shall again.”

Skyler watched her aunt leave and then climbed back into bed. She wondered what it would be like to have a baby. Would it not be truly a miracle to give birth to a child of the man you loved?

She blew out the lamp and then lay back against the soft feather pillow. One day she would marry, but would it be to the man of her choice, or to someone her father had chosen for her? Closing her eyes, she felt herself drifting off. There were many unanswered questions about her future, but she was too sleepy to ponder them now.

Feeling as if she was lost and adrift between two worlds, Skyler didn’t know where she really belonged. When she returned home, would she be able to pick up the threads of her life and go on as if this summer had never happened?

Her body settled into the soft downy mattress and her thoughts were of home. In her mind she was riding her horse across the vast prairies, with the cool breeze kissing her face.

Skyler turned over on her stomach and faced the window. How often had her mother lay in this very bed and pondered her future?

Sighing wearily, she drifted off to sleep.