Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) (16 page)

Chumani gazed at him for a short time, surprised by those serious
queries. "No, mihigna and mitakola, and such feelings for him never
lived in my heart. Dull Star was chosen by my father and I joined to
him to obey Father's wishes." She divulged how Dull Star's carelessness
was to blame for the tragic Crow attack on her camp. "I was respectful
and obedient as a chief's daughter and as a warrior's wife, but I did
not love or desire him."

"It was the same for me, mitawin: I joined to my first mate to give
joy to my parents and people. I did not love and desire her, but I was
a good husband and protector for her and our son." He took a breath
before he disclosed, "There was no enjoyment with her on the sleeping
mat, only duty and release. I believe it was the same for you, as great
pleasure comes only to those who share true love and a unity of spirits."

"Your words are wise and true, mihigna. I did not like sharing the
sleeping mat with Dull Star and was happy he claimed me there so
rarely. He was not patient, understanding, or gentle; as you are, mihigna.
Perhaps it is wicked of me to feel and say such words, but I am not sorry Wakantanka took him away. I only suffered over the loss of my
son."

Wind Dancer was elated by her revelations. He was thrilled to hear
her speak so highly of him and his behavior and relieved to learn she
not only did not have lingering anguish over Dull Star's loss but also
had never loved him. "Perhaps in a season to come, Wakantanka will
give us another child, a son to become Red Shield chief after I walk
the Ghost Trail. When the right time arrives for us to join our bodies,
it will be different between us. I will never harm, dishonor, or reject
you, mitawin, for you were given to me by the Great Spirit Who sees
and knows and created all things."

Wind Dancer cupped her face between his hands, closed the distance
between them, and sealed their lips. That kiss was slow and gentle, but
almost as entrancing as a peyote button. His mouth left hers to travel
over her face for a while, then, his lips returned to hers with a firmer
and swifter kiss. As his flames of desire burned brighter and hotter with
her response, he separated their mouths so he could keep his promise
of restraint. He gazed into her eyes, smiled, and murmured, "Yes, it
will be good between us when that special moon rises and we become
as one."

Chumani was tempted to say "that special moon" had risen tonight,
as her entire being yearned to unite their bodies. But if she did so and
he was agreeable, that would not reveal his true feelings for her, as he
might only react out of physical cravings. They both needed more time
and more closeness. Yet, waiting would be difficult since he aroused
her so highly.

"Do you not agree?" he asked when she remained silent and watchful.

"Yes, mihigna, that is true."

Wind Dancer smiled and caressed her cheek before he removed the
blanket, drew fresh air into his lungs, and lay down.

Chumani glanced at the low fire to be sure it was all right, then took
her place beside him. She closed her eyes, and before she slept, imagined
what it would have been like if they had not halted their actions.

"I go to bathe and pray. I will return soon," he said, upon arising.

"Your shirt hangs on the rack outside. It is dry by now," she told
him as she prepared to do the same before starting their morning meal.

Wind Dancer left to fetch the garment but returned shortly and said
in a somber tone, "I cannot put on a shirt that is not clean. I will wear
the other one again this sun."

Chumani took the shirt and stared at the dirt and stains upon it.
She grimaced. "I do not understand," she explained. "I washed it well
on the last sun. It was clean when I hung it there."

Wind Dancer was certain she spoke the truth. "Perhaps the evil spirit
sneaked into our camp while we slept."

"Perhaps, but I will wash it again for you, for I should not have left
it there with an evil-doer working amongst us. It will not happen again."

Wind Dancer heard the frustration and anger which bubbled within
her. He knew it must make her uneasy and unhappy to know she was
the target of someone's-or something's-spiteful mischief. He felt
those same reactions and emotions simmering within him. He did not
want this wicked game to cause problems between them, to make her
wish she had never come to live in his camp and tepee. "Do not worry,
mitawin, "he tried to assure her, "I will find a safe way to uncover the
guilty one and halt these mean tricks."

"That will be good, Waci Tate, for it is wrong for me to have to
guard our food and possessions in the camp and tepee of a great warrior
and the future Red Shield chief. Now I go to bathe and pray. I will
return soon and serve your meal." After she ducked and left the dwelling,
she looked at her hawk on his post and said, "Guard, Cetan, for an
enemy stalks me."

Wind Dancer winced at hearing her parting words. He reminded
himself Dewdrops had called him by his name rather than by the
endearment she had used since arriving in his camp. He had to solve
this mystery fast, as damage was being done daily to his bond with her.
How could she accept and respect him as the family protector when
she was being attacked so many times by mischief, and in his camp?

When he returned from his solitary ritual, Wind Dancer found his
meal ready, which told him she had rushed her tasks and communion
with the Great Spirit so their dwelling would not remain vulnerable for
very long.

She looked at him and said, "My words and mood were bad and I
ask you to forgive me for them. I do not blame you for the workings
of a trickster or evil spirit. I know you are a man of great honor."

"That pleases me, mitawin, and things will be good for you soon."

Yes, for I will make certain of it, she vowed silently. I have been
challenged to a battle, and I will find and defeat that enemy soon.

Later at the river as she knelt to rewash her husband's shirt, Chumani
was joined by Wastemna and her mother. She stole a sideways glance
at the pretty young woman who knelt nearby to do the same task for
her father. She could not forget her encounter with the war chief's
daughter in the forest during her welcome feast. She wondered if
Wastemna desired Wind Dancer and was the one behind the malicious
episodes. If so, did the woman hope to make her miserable enough to
drive her away from him? Had Wastemna forgotten about the sacred
vision and impending quest? Did she not fear the wrath of Wakantanka
for her misdeeds? What if it was another woman? Or a real evil spirit?
Or her husband for some reason?

Wastemna looked at the garment Chumani was scrubbing between
her folded fingers. She smiled and said, "This will do better work,
Dewdrops; it is called `soap' and comes from the white man's world.
Rub it on the dirty spots and they will come clean quickly and easily."

Chumani forced herself to return the woman's smile. "You are generous to share such magic with me. These dirt and stains do not wish to
leave."

"Give it to me, Dewdrops, and I will work on them for a time. Your
hands are red and must hurt from your difficult task."

"You are kind, but I will do it," Chumani said as she flexed her
fingers.

Wastemna laughed as she quickly seized the fringed shirt from the
rock and rubbed a large square of soap upon the spots. "You must not
be too proud to accept the help of another, one who is a new friend."

After those words, spoken in a gentle tone, Chumani felt it would
be rude to yank her husband's garment away from the smiling woman,
especially with Wastemna's mother watching and praising her daughter's
skills. She watched Wastemna scrub the shirt, but noticed nothing in
her manner to imply she received any pleasure from handling Wind
Dancer's garment. When the woman held up the rinsed shirt, Chumani
was delighted to observe it had come clean.

"See, the white man's soap has much magic and power. You may
keep this one, as I have several more in our tepee. You must not refuse
a gift."

"I thank you for the gift and your help, Wastemna."

While Chumani was busy with other chores, Wind Dancer, who had
witnessed the river scene, sneaked a walk with his sister in the forest.
After swearing her to secrecy and revealing the recent occurrences, he
asked, "Did you remain near my tepee on the last sun while we were
gone?"

A dismayed Hanmani shook her head. "No, my brother, but I was
away for only a short time. I left to fetch more beads from our tepee
and to excuse myself in the forest. While I was near your lodge, no one
approached her cookfire. I am sorry I did not keep my word and aided
the trickster's or evil spirit's mischief. It will not happen again."

"Do not feel bad, my sister. You did not know of the problem. If
it did not exist, leaving for a short time would not have mattered. But
do not forget to keep your promise of silence. I do not want to offend
others with my suspicions or alert the evildoer to my watch for him,
or her."

"I will keep my ears and eyes open in search of the wicked person."

"That is good, my sister, but be careful and silent as you do so."

That afternoon, Wind Dancer looked at his wife as she smeared a
coneflower and plant oil substance on her hands. He noticed the many
scratches upon her fingers. "What injured you, mitawin?" he asked.

Chumani was startled by the sound of his voice, as she had not heard
him approach. "I quilled a new garment this sun and was careless while
I worked. I have tended my wounds and they will heal soon."

"What so distracted you, mitawin?" he asked, dreading to learn of
another, perhaps more serious, incident.

As she put aside the small wooden bowl in which she had mixed the
plant oil and wildflowers, she shrugged and said, "Women's thoughts."

That evasive answer worried him, as did the aura of sadness which
surrounded her. "Things you would not speak of to your husband?"

She looked at him and forced a smile. "That is so. Do you not also
think things you wish to keep private?"

"That is true," he said, matching her smile. "Now I go to shoot
arrows with Red Feather to practice for the great hunt. We will be at
the end of the camp if you need me," he told her before his departure
with his bow and filled quiver.

What I need, you cannot give to me, her troubled mind retorted, I
need to leave on the sacred quest to be gone from my enemy's reach. I need
to see my family and best friend, to speak with Zitkala about the secrets in
my heart. I need to be convinced the vision was real and from Wakantanka.

What you need to know most is if he can truly come to love, trust, and
accept you, her heart refuted. I must discover if this is my true destiny or
if it is only another trick by an evil-doer.

"Grant me the answers I need, Great Spirit," she whispered, "and
help us to find each other amidst the shadows which surround us."

That night, Chumani was worried when Wind Dancer did not ask
to practice their kissing and touching. She wondered if her prayers of
that afternoon had been answered and she was being shown he did not
love and desire her as she did him. Yes, she admitted to herself, she loved him and wanted him as she had no other man. Little could make
her happier than for him to feel the same way about her.