Destiny's Bride (17 page)

Teeth chattering, she hurried back inside, wishing she’d put on Walt’s old warm fleece jacket. His garments were the few things left she had to remember him by. Oddly, she felt no guilt or remorse at having spent the night in Lone Eagle’s embrace.

“Rest in peace, dearest Walt.” She raised her gaze to the gray winter sky. “I will always keep your memory in my heart.” Somehow saying goodbye gave her room to concentrate on a new life. Her smile expressed the peace and contentment in her heart.  Life with Walt grew less real with each passing day and more like a book she might have once read.  Strange how life moved on as grief dimmed.

After rekindling the fire, she gathered her laundry for the trek to the stream. Deciding to put on additional armor against the cold, she sat and added another pair of woolen socks. Her growing stomach made it increasingly difficult to reach her feet, and as she strained to tie her boots, the baby moved about in protest. Cecile straightened and rubbed her stomach. “I’m sorry little one, I didn’t mean to smash you.”  She donned Walt’s coat and raised the collar to shield her ears.

Ready to brave the elements again, she picked up the laundry basket, balanced it on her hip, and pushed aside the door flap. A familiar blast of cold smacked her cheeks, and vapors from her warm breath hung in the icy air. Making her way past the other lodges, she scanned the compound for Lone Eagle, but he was nowhere in sight.

A group of little girls sat huddled together, sheltered by a rock, playing with dolls and miniature tepees—so reminiscent of how she’d played as a child. Recollections were so vivid, she found herself caught up in the children’s contagious laughter and wanted to sit with them. Sadly, those carefree days were gone.

Hunched against the cold, she passed women busily tending strips of drying meat, while others scraped and stretched animal skins. The chores brought thoughts of the few friends she’d made, among them Lone Eagle’s younger sister, Little Dove. Only because of her acceptance had other women warmed to Cecile. Some smiled as she walked by while others still refused to acknowledge her. Understandably, it would take time to win their acceptance, and she was willing to wait. In the meantime, she warmed at the progress she’d made.  After all, Rain Woman, one of the most revered in the tribe, welcomed her.

Little Dove crouched at the water’s edge, already pounding laundry on the flat rocks lining the bank. Cecile knelt next to her. “I’m so glad to see you here.” What was once a mundane chore had turned into the opportunity to spend time with a friend.

Little Dove scooted over to make room for Cecile. “Hau…I mean hello, Green Eyes.” 

While they scrubbed their clothes, Cecile pointed to her friend. “Woman…Little Dove.” Getting engrossed in teaching Little Dove English would deter attention from the ice-cold water.

“Win yan…woman, Cikala Wakiyela.” Little Dove repeated even her name in Lakota, the dialect spoken by her tribe.

“Lone Eagle…man,” said Cecile.

“Wi`ca `sa… man.” Little Dove smiled, indicating her pleasure in learning another new word.  She pointed to Cecile.  “Green Eyes…Tozi Istas”

Cecile tried pronouncing it and obviously failed.

“Toe-zi es-shdahs.” Little Dove sounded it out.

English was so much easier.  Rather than wait for the translation of anything further, Cecile patted Little Dove on the arm.  “Wah shtday…good.”  She hoped the term would end the lesson for today.  If she thought remembering faces was hard, learning the names presented a mountain she didn’t care to climb.

Cecile picked up her basket of wet laundry and bid Little Dove farewell. “Ake wancinyankin ktelo,” she said, hoping she’d correctly translated “Goodbye, I’ll see you again.”

While walking home, Cecile practiced the new words she’d learned, repeating first the Lakota and then the English. Little Dove was her primary instructor in language, but Cecile picked up several words by listening to Rain Woman. Watching the other women helped develop other skills. Every day was a chance to master something new, but doubted Lakota names would ever be one skill she excelled at. Thank goodness she had Lone Eagle to translate for her.

Passing by Deer Woman’s lodge, Cecile saw strips of meat drying on a rack and smelled a delicious aroma wafting from inside. Her stomach rumbled, almost tasting the wonderful stew she imagined cooking inside, and hurried back to her lodge to find something to eat.

She munched a piece of flat bread while hanging her wet clothes on a drying rack she constructed by supporting a long pole on two sturdy forked ones. Almost every lodge had one and she didn’t want to be an exception. So far, she only used hers for laundry, but when hunting season came again, she supposed she’d use it for many different things. She glanced at the sky, hoping the sun would come out from behind the clouds…and at the same time, worried if she was up for the challenge of learning so many different things.  The last thing she wanted was to shame her soon-to-be husband.

Lone Eagle was nowhere to be seen. A feeling of paranoia swept over her, fearing that he avoided her because of their romantic evening. Glimpsing his tall, slender form leaving his parents’ lodge brought a stirring in her abdomen that wasn’t her child. Lone Eagle looked handsome in his buckskin leggings and matching shirt as he walked toward her and smiled.

“Hello, my beautiful woman,” he said as he came closer. “How did you sleep?”

“For some reason I slept like a baby,” she said coyly, but her mood changed when she recalled how he’d made her worry. “Why didn’t you come back this morning?”

“I was eager to speak with my parents about our joining. Marriages used to be arranged by agreement between parents, but now there is more freedom in deciding which mate to chose. I suppose I am lucky. I don’t have to present your father with horses to convince him I am a worthy husband.” His laughter was contagious as he followed her inside her lodge.

The thought of him appearing in front of her father’s bank with a small herd of horses in exchange for her hand made her laugh. Lone Eagle had no idea how lucky he really was.

“And does that remark mean I’m not worth several horses?” she joked.

Lone Eagle took her hands in his. “I convinced my parents you are my choice…I will have no other woman. Whether it is here or somewhere else, I will take you as my wife. So, in the presence of the tribe, my father will announce our joining. Afterwards there will be a celebration with feasting and dancing.”

Despite happy thoughts, her mind spun. How could she feel excited and scared at the same time? Not everyone in the village had warmed to her. She couldn’t let that scare her. Maybe becoming his wife was the only way to truly prove she wanted to become part of the tribe.

Suddenly eager to learn every tradition before their wedding, she took his hand. “Do you mind if I go to Rain Woman’s lodge? I have a lot to do to prepare for our special day.”

The worried look on his face faded, replaced by a smile. “Yes. Un`ci is wise and can teach you many things.”

“Un`ci…that means grandmother. Right?” Cecile took pleasure in showing off her newfound skill.

His brow raised and he stroked her arm. “Yes, Green Eyes. You are doing well learning the language. I’m very proud of you. Grandmother will be, too. I will wait here for your return.”

On the way to Rain Woman‘s lodge, Cecile pondered her impending marriage and the festivities Lone Eagle described. The upcoming holidays, Thanksgiving and Christmas, came to mind, and she recalled past ones spent with her parents. Her good mood dulled. If only she could somehow contact her folks and let them know she was alive and well. Had they gotten the letter Walt mailed? Did he even mail it? Not wanting Rain Woman to see tears in her eyes, she swiped them away. Focusing on the present and happier times yet to come was what Cecile needed to do.

With that goal in mind, she wondered how the approaching holidays would fit into her new life. How did the Sioux celebrate the holidays, or did they even know about such things? Making a mental note to ask Lone Eagle when she got home, she paused for a moment. Home? It seemed strange to say that, but she really did feel like she belonged with him.

The usual smell of herbs and grasses permeated the air inside when Rain Woman bid Cecile enter. In a mix of strained Lakota and English, Cecile explained the purpose for her visit. Rain Woman’s wide, toothless smile indicated her pleasure, but the first thing she did was express concern over Cecile’s wardrobe by yanking at the flannel shirt. The old woman muttered Lakota words far too fast for Cecile to understand.

“Un`ci. May I enter?” Lone Eagle’s familiar voice sounded outside the closed flap.

He entered, laughing. “Rain Woman insists you wed in something more suitable.”  He’d obviously overheard the old woman’s tirade.

“Grandmother, I have talked about this with my mother, and she is already working on something for Green Eyes to wear.” He spoke first in Lakota, then translated.

Cecile watched the two of them banter back and forth, understanding only part of what was discussed.

“I have decided we will join in twelve risings of the sun.” He spoke one entire statement in English. For her benefit she was sure.  Her eyes widened.

He'd already picked a date? There was so much to be done in a very short time. It was hard to believe she was going to be a married woman again… and so soon.

Rain Woman offered herbal tea while she chattered away in her usual combination of Lakota and broken English. Lone Eagle didn’t have to translate every single thing and that pleased Cecile. Her Lakota lessons showed time well spent.

By the time they left, Cecile knew all about Lone Eagle’s stature within the tribe and the importance of this marriage to his people. She didn’t know what her role would be, but she knew she truly wanted to be part of the joining ritual.

***

News of the approaching marriage spread throughout the village. The number of woman who visited and brought gifts stunned Cecile. They gave her baby blankets finely stitched from animal skins, a cradleboard, and even beautiful dresses and leggings soft to the touch and adorned with beautiful beadwork and small feathers.

Using her newly learned skills, Cecile greeted her visitors and expressed her appreciation in their own language. After the last person left, Cecile sprawled out on the bed, never imagining entertaining so exhausting. Had she made a good impression? After all, she was going to be the wife of the next chief.

Sitting up, she eyed the gifts heaped on the floor, eager to try on one of her dresses before she went to bed. But, first she had an idea. With her hair freed from the ribbon that held it, she drew a brush through the tangles and sectioned her thick tresses. Her fingers felt clumsy, working strands back and forth without a mirror, but finally her hair hung in two braids, the wispy ends brushing the crest of her bosom.

After unbuttoning her flannel shirt, she removed her oversized trousers and slipped into one of the fawn skin dresses. The softness reminded her of the fine silk nightgown her father had given to her mother. He’d spent a great deal of money to special order it.

As she pulled on the matching fringed leggings, they expanded to allow for growth. She cradled her swollen belly and reflected on the day her baby would be born. God had certainly provided her a miracle the day he brought her Lone Eagle.

***

Lone Eagle returned with the hunting party to the village, his success apparent from the deer carcass slung across his horse. He cared for his mount, carried his kill to the smoke lodge, and hurried across the compound to find his intended. His body had been with the hunting party, but the feel of Green Eyes’ body next to his occupied his mind. He stood outside her lodge and tempered his eagerness to burst in. “Green Eyes, may I enter?” This wasn’t yet his tepee.

“Yes. Please come in.”

His breath seized when he saw her. Such a beautiful sight in the flickering firelight. She wore a doeskin dress with a matching headband adorning her auburn braids. Words failed him, and the need to hold her in his arms and savor her kisses overwhelmed him. He gathered her into an embrace. “My beautiful Green Eyes. You truly look like a Lakota bride.”

“I take it you approve.” Her giggle stirred his passion.

“As much as I appreciate your new dress, I know what loveliness lays beneath.”

He peeled her clothing from her, then quickly stripped away his own. Lowering her onto the bed, he trailed kisses along her neck and down her stomach, while his hands caressed her breasts. He urged her thighs apart, lowered his head between her legs, and explored her innermost part with his tongue.

“Oh, Lone Eagle…” She whimpered.

“Touch me, taste me, do what you will with me, my woman.” His words encouraged her to act.

Timid at first, his adorations spurred her to explore. She held his hardened member in her hand and smiled at the soft groans she elicited. The sounds of his passion seemed to spur her desires. She straddled his body and lowered herself onto his erection.

“You may be a good teacher,” she murmured “but I’m an excellent student.”

Chapter Sixteen

Well into November, the wedding was only two days away. Cecile pondered the fact that their marriage would coincide with Thanksgiving. This year she truly had something for which to be thankful.