Dances Naked (24 page)

Ж

The wind carried the smell of beans cooking tow
ard him. He followed the smell—
it was actually easier to track than the footprints. His mystery person had
wisely avoided walking over the dusty areas and hadn’t left an easy trail. Now that he could track with his nose up in the air rather than with his eyes down to the ground, he saw her.

Or rather, them. The two white women, both of them toting babies in slings fashioned from torn petticoats, were gathering wood from outside the Indian settlement. “Hallo, there,” he called out, hoping that he didn’t frighten them or their men.

“Little Bear?” she asked, one part of her hoping that it was him, another part fearing it.

“Prudence?” he answered. Now that he heard her voice, he was sure that it was she
,
although the Indian baby she held close couldn’t be hers. She had only been gone a few days according to what Michael had said.

“Not anymore,” she answered. “My name is Morning Star. What brings you here,” she asked suspiciously.

“Your name is Little Bear?” asked the young mother with the older, and obviously white, baby.

“Yes, they call me Little Bear. Do I know you?” he asked. She seemed familiar but he couldn’t place where or when he had seen her.

“I never knew your name. I’m Rachel and you, um, beat the ‘tar’ out of my brother a few years ago. I never got the chance to thank you. You see, he never hit me in the face again after the thrashing you gave him. And
,
he’ll never hit me again, anywhere, ever again. So, what are you doing here and how come you know Morning Star?”

“I guess I’m a little lost,” Little Bear said with a big grin. This was the first time he had seen Michael’s daughter without the oversized hat. Now he knew why she always wore it: she had been hiding the large birthmark on the side of her face. It didn’t diminish her beauty though. She looked so right with a baby on her hip. He realized he was musing and started again. “I mean, I didn’t think I’d come all the way to England. At least, that’s where Mr. Huntsman said his daughter went.”

Morning Star paled, fear overcoming her momentary elation at seeing the familiar face of the handsome, good mannered trapper. “Don’t worry,” Little Bear said. “I’m only joking. Your father was disappointed that you left for England
,
but it’s where you wanted to be
,
and he accepted it. I won’t tell him any differently. Looks like you found some family here, too.”

The women turned around as their husbands rushed to them, followed by Marty who was shouting, “It’s okay. I’m sure it’s okay!”

The two men grabbed their women and sons close to them and stared at the strange white man dressed in Indian clothing, his long blond streaked, wavy hair pulled back into a single, long braid. Little Bear greeted them in their own tongue
,
and told them that he was a visitor to this area and hoped to be able to do some trapping nearby. He wouldn’t bother their hunting and would be respectful of their village and its people.

Marty couldn’t understand what they were saying but saw the sincerity in the stranger’s eyes. He could also tell that he knew the women. He waited until the men were finished speaking, or at least paused, then jumped in and introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Marty Melbourne
,
and these are my friends. Well, we’re almost family, at least until I can get back to my own, which I hope is very soon,” he said
,
then cut his eyes over to Red Shirt. He air drew his wife and cradled his invisible son
,
then grinned at the chief: I’ll never stop asking for them, h
e sign
ed
,
then added a smirk. “I take it you know Red Shirt’s and Number Two’s wives?” he asked.

“Yes, I knew these women in their past lives,” Little Bear answered, hoping that he was being politically correct. He looked to the Indian men and repeated himself in Cherokee. He wanted them to know what he was saying
,
and to make sure they understood that they needn’t fear him, that he wasn’t trying to take away their women or make trouble for them. He also knew he didn’t need to explain; they appeared to be sharp men and probably understood English, too.

Marty opened his mouth, ready to invite the new man to dinner
,
but chomped down on
his
first words, “If you’re hungry,” knowing that it wasn’t his place to invite the visitor to a meal. That was Red Shirt’s duty or responsibility, depending on how he felt about the man.

“Little Bear saved me from my brother,” Rachel told her husband, mimicking the punches to her face that had stopped because of him. “I only lost the one tooth,” she said and pointed to her one missing lower tooth. “I would’ve lost them all if ‘he’ had kept hitting me in the face.” She’d never use her brother’s given name again and didn’t want to hear anyone else say it either. She shook her head as she recalled the event years ago. “I’m sure glad you came around that day,” she said.

Red Shirt glanced at his wife then at Little Bear. Little Bear put his hand down to indicate the size she was when he had intervened. Red Shirt nodded his head; he understood and thanked him. Then he grinned, recalling how he had punished her brother.

Little Bear saw the grin and knew that he was the one who had buried the man he had come upon the day before. He nodded back and grinned just as big, hoping that Rachel’s husband understood that he had seen his handiwork.

“What’s going on—
did I miss something?” Marty asked. These two men, now three with Number Two joining the unspoken conversation, were nodding and grinning. Well, whatever it was, no one was throwing fists or angry words.

“So, are you going to be trapping near here?” Morning Star asked, hoping to change the subject to one that was audible and that she understood.

“Far enough away so I won’t be bothering you and your, um, family,” Little Bear answered, hoping that she would explain her relationship.

“Oh, Number Two here is my husband now,” she said, her face radiant at recalling how they had become married. “And he was widowed so now I have a daughter, yay high,” she said indicating her height with her hand, “and a son.” She lifted up Baby Brother so Little Bear could get a closer look at the handsome boy, happily gnawing a strip of leather thong.

“You know, um, Morning Star,” he fumbled, “if your husband and the others trap and get more than they need, I’ll stop by here next spring and take the furs to your father and get what you need in the way of supplies. He won’t know that you’re here. I mean, Marty said he was leaving
,
and I really don’t believe your men will get as much for their furs as a, um, white man,” he said, embarrassed at calling himself a white man. He sighed then repeated himself in Cherokee although
,
by the shocked then happy look on Red Shirt’s face, he already understood. He’d have to make sure he didn’t say anything to Morning Star in English that he didn’t want the b
raves to hear, too.

Ж

Red Shirt wound up inviting Little Bear to a dinner of beans with a slice of ham fat added for flavoring. He excused himself after the meal, letting his host know that he wanted to continue on to his trapping grounds. He didn’t need t
o repeat that he wouldn’t let anyone know he had come upon the white women who were now wives in the tribe; it was understood.

But
,
he didn’t want to stay the night with the tribe who, except for the colorful and cranky old women, slept under the stars. No, he didn’t want to be sleeping next to two newlywed couples. Especially since one of the wives, the woman formerly known as Prudence, the bright but bashful woman who he should have asked to marry him the year before, was one of the new brides.

“One of these days,” he said softly to his mule as he led her away from the camp, “one of these days
,
I’ll have a woman of my own.”

A

gainst all financial and common sense, Little Bear made a detour to civilization rather than head directly to investigate his new trapping grounds. He couldn’t explain it
,
but ever since he had seen the two young couples and their babies, he had a bad case of Daddy lust. Or husband lust. Or just plain lust. He wanted a
woman, but not in the worst way—
he wanted one in the best way. He never thought that he, with his rough and chilly trapper’s lifestyle, was good enough for a wife. Last year after he saw how happy Evie was with absolutely no worldly possessions, not even a dress, he realized that it wasn’t the solid structure of a house a woman needed
,
but a loving and supportive man. Prudence, a lovely, intelligent woman with nice clothes and well-read by the books he had seen at her father’s trading post, was just as unlikely a candidate for a primitive, wet and often cold, outdoors life. But
,
from the moment he had seen them, he could tell that both women were happy in their rustic existence.

Yes, maybe a detour to the Pomeroy’s homestead was in order. Jody would know where Evie was. She had lived without a house the winter before he met her and maybe, if Ian had met with tragedy in his vengeance quest and she was
now
widowed, she would be willing to return to the wilds with him as her husband. All of the sudden, he wanted the mules to travel faster and for longe
r hours. It felt great to have a personal quest rather than a quota of pelts to pursue.

Ж

“Mommy, Mommy, there’s a man coming to see you,” Jenny screamed as she ran up the porch steps.

“Hold on there,” I said as I braced her by the shoulders to let her cat
ch her breath. “Where is he and did he ask for me by name?” No man had ever called on me that I could recall. “Are you sure he isn’t here for your father or Grandpa Jody or your Grannie?”

“Nope,” she replied just a little too quickly. She looked around the room, avoiding my eyes
,
but also looking for something. “Can I give him a cookie?” she asked.

“Who is he?” I asked. Something wasn’t right or she wouldn’t be so quiet and evasive.

“I think his name is Small Bear,” she answered hesitantly then looked back at the plate of cookies.

“Jennnny…” I dragged out her name, giving her the opportunity to explain herself.

“He didn’t tell me his name,” she admitted, “but I know it’s something like Small Bear. I, um, well, I just know it is. Can I give him a cookie? He’s a nice man and he and his mules have come a long way to get here. He’s a trapper!” she crowed, happy that I wasn’t upset with her.

“You know things early, don’t you, dear?” I asked. My eldest daughter, Leah, also had ‘the sight,’ the sixth sense, good old ESP. Jenny was my adopted daughter and I had suspected she had it on at least two previous occasions. This was the first time I had asked her about it though. I didn’t know if she even knew she had it.

Jenny shrugged her shoulders. Knowing things early was natural for her. She had tried telling her brothers, her other brothers from her first family who were dead now, about it but they wouldn’t believe her. She never spoke of it again until today.

“Small Bear?” I paused. “Do you mean Little Bear?” I asked, excited about the possibility of seeing the first friend I had met in this 18
th
century.

“That’s it! He’s almost here! I’ll take him some water
,
and can he have two cookies? It’s been a long time since he’s had one, um, I’m pretty sure. I mean, he’s a trapper and I don’t think they bake very many cookies.”

“Let’s just start with one, okay? Now, let me make sure the wee three are still asleep. Oops, too late. Wren’s up and now her brothers are, too.”

“Mommy, can I take Wren and the cookie and you can take my brothers?” Jenny asked. “He already has water
,
but I’m sure he’d like to come in and sit down for a while. He’s a nice man, huh, Mommy?” Jenny asked although I was sure that she already knew the answer.

“Yes, dear. Come on kids; let’s go meet Uncle Little Bear. He knew about you even before I did.”

Ж

I didn’t know if Little Bear had stumbled on a rock when he saw me or if he really was so shocked that he almost fainted. I ignored his falter, kind of, and called out, “Hey, there, Little Bear! What brings you out into this neck of the woods?”

“I was, u
m, in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop in and see how you and Ian were doing,” he said as he looked around, as casually as a stunned man could, for signs of my first husband.

“Ian?” Jenny asked. “Why would Daddy’s cousin Ian be here?”

I cleared my throat and nudged her with my Judah bearing arm, telling her without words to hush. “oh,” she said quietly, taking my hint.

“Oh, you haven’t met my family,” I said, taking charge of the conversation. “This is Jenny, my adopted daughter, and this is Leo and this is Judah.”

“And this is Wren,” Jenny added. “And here’s a cookie for you. Do you want to come inside for a drink? We have lots of water but I can make you some raspberry leaf tea. It’s real good especially if it’s got honey in it. We have honey, too. And if you’re going to be here for a while, you can eat dinner with us and meet my Daddy and Grandpa Jody and Grannie. And James and Leah are with Poppi, that’s my other grandpa, so we’ll have more room at the table.” Jenny spouted her greeting and plans for the evening like she was practicing to become an auctioneer.