Wolf Dreamer Page 7

  “I will guide the people. I will heal their wounds. I will interpret the dreams of those who have had visions and determine when it is time to move the camp. I will make courting flutes for the young men …”

  “Courting flutes?”

  Wolf Dreamer nodded. “Flutes are wakan,” he said. “Holy, when made by one with power …” “Someone like you?”

  “Yes. When a young man is in love, he goes to a holy man for a flute. The shaman makes him a flute and gives him a song that will win the heart of the woman he wishes to court.”

  “So,” Rebecca said, grinning, “it’s like magic?”

  “Yes,” Wolf Dreamer agreed. “Magic.”

  “Did you play a magic flute for Summer Moon Rising?” Rebecca asked, unable to keep the jealousy out of her voice.

  “No.”

  “Why not? What happened between you? Why did she marry someone else?”

  “Soon after we agreed to marry, I went to seek a vision. It was then that my spirit guide came to me …”

  “The gray wolf?”

  “Yes. It was then I learned that I would be the next shaman. Powers I had sensed before grew stronger. One day, when Roan Horse was away from the village, a war party returned home. One of the young men was badly hurt. I laid my hands on him, and he was made whole again.

  “Other tribes learned of my power to heal. Our enemy, the Crow, attacked our village and tried to take me captive. Many warriors were killed.

  “Summer Moon Rising was frightened by this and she turned away from me. She was afraid of my powers, afraid of what it might mean to be my woman.”

  “So she married your best friend.”

  He nodded. “Soon after, another tribe attacked us. Again, there were many deaths. I felt responsible and I ran away from the. village.”

  “Why did you decide to come back?”

  “It was time.”

  “How did you know?”

  “My spirit guide told me.”

  Rebecca thought about all he had told her while she prepared the evening meal. She didn’t believe he spoke to a gray wolf, but there was no point in mentioning it because it was obvious that he believed it.

  She went to bed early that night, wondering if she would ever get used to cooking over an open fire, eating with utensils made of buffalo horn, sleeping on the ground under a furry robe. Living with a man who spoke to animals …

  Wolf Dreamer woke to the high-pitched cry of a woman wailing and knew that Roan Horse’s spirit had left his body to follow the spirit path to the place of souls.

  Sitting up, he glanced over at Rebecca. She was also sitting up, clutching her sleeping robe to her breast. “What is that?”

  “Roan Horse has gone to his ancestors. Lark Song is crying for her husband.”

  During the next few days, Rebecca again had cause to doubt her ability to accept the Lakota life style. She watched Roan Horse’s kinfolk as they mourned his death. The men gashed their flesh. His wife cut off her little finger and hacked off her hair. The other women also cut their hair short.

  “It is a way to show their grief,” Wolf Dreamer told her. “The physical pain is an outward sign of the pain they feel within.”

  They mourned him for four days, then wrapped the body in a buffalo robe and carried it away from the village to the burial ground and lifted it onto a scaffold. His weapons hung from the poles, together with a small bundle of food—so that he might have food on his journey to the next life, Wolf Dreamer said. His favorite pipe and his shield were also placed on the scaffold. She watched with horror as a horse was killed.

  “So that he may ride in comfort to the After-world,” Wolf Dreamer explained.

  Rebecca thought the killing cruel and barbaric.

  As they left the burial ground, she caught Summer Moon Rising staring at her with ill-disguised loathing. The Indian woman was just one more reason why living here would never work. Summer Moon Rising would always be there, watching, sneering, trying to cause trouble, making sure Rebecca was never accepted.

  She looked up as Wolf Dreamer touched her arm.

  “You are far away,” he remarked, falling into step beside her.

  “Yes.”

  “You are feeling uncomfortable and afraid.” “How do you know that?”

  He shrugged. “You will grow accustomed to our ways, in time.”

  “What if I don’t?” she asked, ducking into his lodge. “What if I never do?”

  Chapter 11

  Rebecca sat apart from the other women and children who had sought to cool off at the river’s edge. She watched them laughing, talking, playing in the water. Some of them looked her way now and then. A few of the younger women offered tentative smiles, the children stared at her curiously.

  Three weeks had passed since Wolf Dreamer had brought her here. She spent most of her days alone while he was busy doing whatever it was shamans did. He spent his evenings teaching her Lakota ways, teaching her to speak the language which she thought was rather lovely. She was rarely bored, as there was always something to do … wood and water to gather for cooking and bathing, food to prepare. She was trying to learn how to make moccasins, using one of Wolf Dreamer’s old ones for a pattern.

  Still, for all that she managed to keep busy, she couldn’t help feeling lonely, an outcast among strangers.

  “You will never belong here.”

  Rebecca glanced over her shoulder, startled to hear a female voice echoing the words in her heart.

  It was Summer Moon Rising.

  “You speak English!” Rebecca exclaimed.

  “When I wish.”

  “Did Wolf Dreamer teach you?”

  “No. My grandfather was wasichu. He taught me.” Summer Moon Rising crossed her arms over her breasts. “Why do you not go away from this place? We do not want you here.”

  “I would if I could,” Rebecca retorted.

  “I could help you.”

  “Really? How?”

  “I will guide you down the mountain. Once you reach the bottom, you have only to follow the river south. After two days, you will come to a small wasichu settlement.”

  “What about Wolf Dreamer? He’s sure to come after me.”

  “He is going hunting with my brother and two of his friends tomorrow morning. They will be gone for several days.”

  Home. The very word filled her with excitement. This was her chance to go back to Philadelphia, to see her parents again, to return to civilization. It would be wonderful to live in a real house again, to shop in the city, to wear nice clothes and sleep on a feather bed. Home. Even the thought of facing her father and hearing him say, I told you so, couldn’t dull her excitement.

  She stared up at Summer Moon Rising. Dared she trust her? She shook off her doubts. This might be her only chance to get away. Taking a deep breath, she said, “All right, I’ll be ready in the morning.”

  Wolf Dreamer sat cross-legged in front of the fire, surreptitiously watching Rebecca. She had been unusually quiet this evening, ever since he had told her he was going hunting in the morning. He had thought her silence might be due to anger that he was leaving, but she had assured him she wasn’t angry, had smiled and said she would get along just fine without him. He had told her they would marry when he returned. She had stared at him, then looked away, but not before he saw the tears in her eyes. Were they tears of joy, he wondered, or tears of defeat?

  With a shake of his head, he continued to hone his skinning knife. Women. Who could understand them? He could read the signs of the moon and stars, track a buffalo across the vast prairie, find water in the desert, but he could not find his way in a woman’s heart.

  That night, he slid under her blankets and drew her into his arms. “Rebecca, what is it that troubles you?”

  “Nothing.”

  He stroked her hair, loving the feel of it, the way it curled around his hand as though it had a life of its own. He yearned for the day when she would truly be his, when he could love her as he longed to
do.

  He was surprised, but pleased, when her arms crept around his neck and she kissed him. He drew her closer, his body stirring in reaction to her nearness. Of all wasichu customs, he liked kissing the best.

  She didn’t protest when he caressed her, only whimpered softly. It was not a cry of pain, but of pleasure and his body quickened still more, encouraged by her response.

  Rebecca clung to him, her emotions in turmoil. She would never belong here, she knew that, just as she knew in her heart that she had fallen in love with Wolf Dreamer. But sometimes love wasn’t enough. The thought brought tears to her eyes and filled her with a sense of desperation. After tonight, she would never see him again.

  But she had tonight.

  She ran her hands over his strong shoulders, down his arms, over his chest, delighting in the smooth heat of his skin, the way he responded to her touch, the husky tremor in his voice when he murmured her name.

  She burned for his touch, for his kiss, his caress. He wanted her, too, of that there could be no doubt. She knew he didn’t intend to make love to her until they were married, but that day would never come and she wanted him now, wanted to spend one night in his arms, loving and being loved.

  When he started to pull away, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, her tongue stroking his lower lip, slipping inside to duel with his. He moaned softly as her caresses grew more bold until, with a low growl of surrender, he rose over her. He gazed down at her for a long moment, his face illuminated by the glow of the coals, and then his body merged with hers and there was no more time for thought of anything but the wondrous pleasure of being in his arms, of feeling his body moving deep within her own …

  Before going to sleep, Rebecca wondered how she would face him in the morning, not only because they had made love but because she was leaving. Would he see it in her eyes?

  But all her worrying was in vain. He was gone when she woke in the morning. He had told her he would be leaving early, but somehow, she had thought he would awaken her and kiss her goodbye. She put her disappointment aside, telling herself it would be easier this way.

  Rising, she dressed, smiling a little as her body reminded her of what she had done the night before. Her smile quickly faded with the realization that it would never happen again.

  She pushed the thought aside, braided her hair, slipped on her moccasins, and she was ready to go.

  Summer Moon Rising appeared at her lodge a short time later.

  Rebecca felt a deep and surprising sense of loss as she rode away from Wolf Dreamer’s tipi. Though she had never felt that she belonged here, she couldn’t shake off the feeling, however wrong it might be, that she belonged with Wolf Dreamer.

  Thrusting that wayward notion out of her mind, she concentrated on following Summer Moon Rising out of the village toward the narrow, tree-lined trail that led down the mountain. Because she didn’t want to think about Wolf Dreamer, she thought of her parents instead. In a month or so, she would be home again, but for some reason, even that thought failed to cheer her.

  As they left the village further behind, the misgivings Rebecca had had earlier crept into her mind. Had she been foolish to put her life into the hands of a woman who was so openly her enemy? Her own vulnerability struck Rebecca like a blow as her gaze lingered on the knife stuck in the sash of the other woman’s tunic. If Summer Moon Rising attacked her, she had nothing but her own strength with which to fight back. It was a frightening thought. Summer Moon Rising was a head taller and outweighed her by perhaps thirty pounds. She would be able to overpower her by size alone.

  What would Summer Moon Rising do if Rebecca decided to return to the village?

  Dare she even try?

  Wolf Dreamer sighted down the shaft of his arrow, released his breath, and let the arrow fly. It was a good, clean kill, his first of the day, and yet his thoughts were not on the hunt, or the buck he had just brought down, but on Rebecca and the night he had spent in her arms. She could be carrying his son, even now.

  When he returned home, they would be married.

  Walking toward his kill, he smiled as he imagined Rebecca’s belly rounded with his child, Rebecca cradling his son in her arms.

  The sun was warm on his back as he gutted the deer, skinned and quartered it, then wrapped the meat in the hide. Rebecca had much to learn of living with his people. Her ways were not his, but she had a quick mind. Already, she knew several words in his language. Once she could speak his tongue, he hoped she would feel more at ease among his people, and they would be more at ease with her. They would accept her as one of them, in time.

  After loading the onto his pack horse, he swung onto the back of his own mount and rode back to where the other warriors were butchering their own kills. One more day, and they would return home. carcass

  He smiled at the thought of returning to the village, of Rebecca waiting for him there.

  Chapter 12

  Rebecca reined her horse to a halt alongside Summer Moon Rising. She had been apprehensive about following the Indian woman, but her fears had proven unfounded. Summer Moon Rising had said little on the way down the mountain and now their journey was at an end.

  Summer Moon Rising handed Rebecca the par-fleche that held their food supplies. “The town is two days to the south,” she said, pointing downriver.

  Rebecca nodded. “Thank you for your help.”

  With a curt nod, Summer Moon Rising clucked to her horse.

  Rebecca watched the Indian woman ride away until she was out of sight, tom by the knowledge that Summer Moon Rising would soon be with Wolf Dreamer. Would he take her as his wife? The thought of another woman sharing his lodge, sharing his bed, was like a knife in her heart

  She told herself it was foolish to be jealous, that she had left him of her own free will and should not be jealous if another woman desired him, but she couldn’t help it.

  She looked back up the mountain. Could she find her way back to the village?

  With a shake of her head, she touched her heels to her horse’s flanks. She hadn’t come this far to turn back. She was going home, where she belonged.

  But she couldn’t block out the little voice in the back of her mind that whispered she belonged here, with the tall, copper-skinned man she had seen in her dreams.

  She rode for an hour, stopped to rest her horse and drink from the river, then moved on. The surrounding countryside was lush and green and beautiful. The sound of the water tumbling over rocks filled the air. Birds flitted from tree to tree. She saw a bushy-tailed squirrel looking down at her from a low branch.

  She rode until dusk, and it was only then that a sense of unease began to creep over her. She had lived alone after Gideon passed on, but she hadn’t been out in the open like this.

  She found a place a short distance away from the river to bed down for the night. She watered her horse, then slipped a rope around its neck and tied it to a nearby tree. Summer Moon Rising had given her a blanket and she spread it on a flat stretch of ground. Summer Moon Rising had also provided her with enough food to last three days.

  Now, sitting on the blanket eating a hunk of dried venison, she listened to the sounds of the night. She had never been afraid of the dark before, never realized how dark dark really was until she found herself alone in the midst of the prairie. She was suddenly glad for the company of her horse. At least she wasn’t totally alone.

  She started at every strange sound, heard danger in the rustling of the leaves overhead. What was she doing out here? What had made her think she could make it all the way back east on her own? For the first time, it occurred to her that she was in danger not only from wild animals, but from other Indians, as well. The Lakota were not the only tribe on the Plains.

  The full consequence of her foolishness struck her like a blow. She had only the word of Summer Moon Rising that there was a settlement ahead. What would she do if there was no settlement there? Or worse, what if there was an enemy camp? She lacked the knowledge and the s
kills to survive in the wilderness alone. She could die out here, and no one would ever know what had become of her.

  Her parents had been against her marriage to Gideon Hathaway from the start. Her father had told her bluntly that she was making a mistake, that she would never be happy living in some rough-hewn cabin in the middle of the untamed west, but she’d been young and restless and eager for a little excitement and Gideon had seemed like the answer to a prayer. He had made it all sound so wonderful, the journey west, nights under the stars, helping to settle a new land.

  In some ways, her father had been right. She had been unaccustomed to hard work, and it had been difficult, those first days and months as they built a house and planted a garden, but there had also been a strong sense of satisfaction in the work. She loved the wild beauty of the land, the vaulted skies, the endless prairies… .

  She stared into the distance. The land did not seem so beautiful now, not when she was alone in the dark.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she murmured. And so saying, she wrapped up in the blanket and closed her eyes. The sooner she got to sleep, the sooner morning would come.

  * * *

  She woke to the sun in her face and the sound of birds singing. Staring up at the sky, it took her a moment to remember where she was.

  Rising, she walked down to the river, washed her hands and face, combed her fingers through her hair. She saddled her horse, then rolled her blanket into a cylinder and lashed it behind the saddle, together with the parfleche of supplies.

  She would eat later, she decided, since she really wasn’t hungry now.

  Riding along the river gave her plenty of time to think … about her mother and father, about Gideon, about the baby she had lost, about going home, about what she wanted in the future.

  About Wolf Dreamer.

  His image sprang quickly to mind, a tall copper-skinned man with long black hair, golden-brown eyes that could warm her with a look, a voice that made her shiver inside.

  Wolf Dreamer. He had said he had watched her for years, that he was drawn to her, that she was his destiny.