Read Night Thunder's Bride: Blackfoot Warriors, Book 3 Online
Authors: Karen Kay
Rebecca’s heart constricted. Many of these people she had met only briefly, yet each one seemed honestly concerned for her welfare. She grimaced. How could she have ever thought these people savage? More kindness and consideration were being bestowed upon her now than she had ever experienced in the “civilized” world.
She asked, as they made their way through the camp, “What were you talking about when you told me that my husband was dancing for me? And your daughter, did you say Blue Raven Woman was a part of this?”
Morning Child Woman seemed puzzled, as she asked, “Do you truly not know?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“Then I will tell you my daughter, that you understand what has taken place here today. Sun took you away from us,” Morning Child began. “There was nothing we could do. Night Thunder gave our medicine man many horses to save you. Night Thunder has sat with you every night, caring not for his own needs, not eating, not sleeping. Blue Raven Woman sat with you, too, and bathed you when Night Thunder was gone to hunt. But nothing we have done brought you back to us. That was when Night Thunder begged Sun and asked Old Man to heal you if he would give of himself in the Dance to honor Sun. He beseeched Sun to take his pain instead of yours, and to make you whole again.
“My daughter, Blue Raven Woman, heard of this pledge Night Thunder made to Sun and implored Sun to return you, too. My daughter also loves her white sister and asked Sun that if she also made a sacrifice, fasting and praying for many days, would he bring you back to us? It is an honor that she has given you, given us. Because she has helped to sponsor the Sun Dance, others have been made into warriors. And Sun has shone kindly upon us this day. He has made many more warriors to defend our people and he has given you back to us.”
Rebecca’s heart filled with emotion as she listened to the old woman’s words, and she felt tears well up in her eyes.
The women brought her to her own lodge, and as Rebecca entered the tepee, the feeling of coming home and of belonging here swept over her.
Her husband lay upon his sleeping robes, there on his side of the lodge, Blue Raven Woman at his side, attending to his wounds. As she entered, Night Thunder looked up at Rebecca, his dark eyes seeking out hers.
Weakly he asked, “Are you real or shadow?”
She said, her voice barely working, “I am real.”
He sighed. “It is true, then. Sun healed you. You have come back to me?”
“I am here,” Rebecca reassured him, and moved further into the lodge, rushing to him, as well as she was able. She bent over him.
“It was my fault what happened to you,” he explained to her.
“Sh-h-h,” she responded. She touched his lips with her finger.
But he wouldn’t be quieted. He said, “I should not have left you without ensuring that you knew I was teasing you.”
“You told me to ask Blue Raven Woman. I should have.”
“But I—”
“How could you have known that your crazy woman would take it into her head to ride a buffalo?”
He reached for her hand. “It is good now. Sun heard my pleas—and Blue Raven Woman’s. You have been returned to us.”
Rebecca shut her eyes, fighting to keep back the tears. But it was useless. One streamed down her face, even as she hardened herself against it. She didn’t hear Blue Raven Woman, Morning Child Woman, and her sister slip out of the lodge.
Rebecca said, “I love you, my husband. I love you. Do not ever forget it.”
Twice he opened his mouth to speak, twice no words would come, until at length he was able to say, “How could I forget, when you have taken my heart from me?” He squeezed her hand and shut his eyes. Several tortured minutes passed before he continued, “I am tired now from the dance. But I will be well in a few suns, and then I will tell you about my marriage to Blue Raven Woman…I…there is something…” He nodded off, but came to moments later, only to say, “Something I must tell you about my marriage. Do not worry. I would not have you…” He shut his eyes, but before he drifted off to sleep, she heard him say,
“Ikakomimmawa kitana,
your daughter is loved.”
Night Thunder lay before her, his eyes closed in sleep.
Rebecca bathed his chest with the rawhide rag Blue Raven Woman had left behind. The sweet scent of the herbs used to freshen the water reminded her of the same scent that had been used to wash her own injuries, and she felt her head begin to ache.
What had he been about to say? Something about his marriage to Blue Raven Woman? He hadn’t married the Indian woman already, had he? He wouldn’t have done that, would he?
And what had he meant, “Your daughter is loved”?
Did he mean, was he trying to tell her, that he loved Blue Raven Woman? Rebecca already knew that Blue Raven Woman loved him. Hadn’t the girl said as much?
Briefly Rebecca shut her eyes, trying to make sense of it. But her head hurt and the effort seemed enormous.
What a mess. Rebecca loved Blue Raven Woman; she also loved her husband and would not share him. She couldn’t, could she?
Rebecca brought her hand up to massage her forehead.
Briefly, she wondered, could she share her husband?
Her stomach twisted at the thought, her pulse rate increased, and a sense of dread filled her being.
She had her answer: no, she could not. She might love Blue Raven Woman, might even think of her as a sister, but she would not share her man with another woman.
Never.
Rebecca raised her chin.
She had to leave. She
had
to. It was the only choice left for her. Before Night Thunder became well enough to prevent it. And he would try to prevent it, she was certain.
She would no longer stand in the way of these two people coming together, nor would she continue to bring hurt to these two who had shown her nothing but kindness.
No longer would she think of herself as the woman who had taken Blue Raven Woman’s man from her; no longer would she worry that she was causing Night Thunder to sacrifice his honor.
Was her own heart so special that she could not break it in order that she keep these two people safe? After all, hadn’t Night Thunder risked all for her? Hadn’t Blue Raven Woman?
It was the only way. She had to leave quickly, too, before he guessed at her secret. Before he came to know that she was pregnant. Wouldn’t he then demand that the baby stay here with him? Hadn’t he said as much? And wouldn’t Rebecca then
have
to stay here, ruining the lives of all those around her? Because she knew she’d never be able to leave her own baby.
Another thought crossed her mind.
She was still pregnant, wasn’t she? Surely she hadn’t lost the baby. Wouldn’t Morning Child Woman have told her about it if she had?
Her head began to ache so critically that she knew she had to rest. But the last thought she had before she lay down beside her husband was whether or not Robert Clark still remained in the Indian camp, awaiting her decision.
She would make enquiries tomorrow…about that…about the baby…
Tomorrow…
Chapter Twenty-Four
She stole out of camp the next day. Robert Clark had been only too willing to leave quickly and she had needed to get away before Night Thunder became well enough to suspect what she planned. But in doing so, Rebecca had become completely dejected. One day passed into the next and it became impossible to think in the present. Everywhere, everything around her reminded her of Night Thunder. The prairie, the wind, the very scents of the air. Would she ever get him out of her mind? Was she going to have to return to the east in order to do so?
Night Thunder…
She saw him around every bend, over the top of every elevation, behind every tree. She dreamed of him, longed for him, listened for his voice on the wind.
And she realized, she would go on loving him—no matter if or when he married another, no matter where her life took her from this moment forward. Always, she would love him.
She had been on the trail with Robert Clark and his two friends for over a week and she had to admit that the three men were kind, though they often gave her strange looks, perhaps wondering why she rarely spoke to them or answered their questions. But they neither said nor did anything to make her nervous.
Their party traveled mostly at night, the men telling her that even though she had lived among the Blackfeet, that tribe and others in the vicinity remained antagonistic toward the white man.
It was safer that they travel at night.
Rebecca had simply nodded agreement. She didn’t care. Nothing appeared to matter to her anymore, and she wondered if it might not have been better if she’d stayed in the camp and let Night Thunder marry the other woman.
Her life wouldn’t have been so bad, would it?
But at times like this, reason would again come to her rescue and she would affirm once more what she knew in her heart: she could not have suffered it. Her convictions wouldn’t allow her such an arrangement. Always, she would berate herself, think less of herself. Surely that was no way in which to live.
No, she had made the right choice. She would return to her own world, to her mistress and her friend Katrina. She would go again to the east, perhaps even venture across the ocean to Ireland. Though oddly, the prospect of doing that no longer held the gladness in her heart that it once had.
She wanted her life back. Wanted her husband back.
But she could not have it, or him.
Her thoughts caused her anguish, and she told herself that she would live through this—for herself, for her baby.
Her baby. A part of Night Thunder. Rebecca’s heart softened and she could little understand the pleasure that the thought gave her. Perhaps because she knew that she would always have a part of him, there within her child. Her child would be a testimony to the love she felt for Night Thunder, the love they had shared.
It would have to be enough.
Night seemed to come early, spreading around them like darkened mist, with only Old Woman, the moon, and the stars to guide them.
Old Woman. Had she even begun to think like an Indian?
What was it Night Thunder had said? Spirits are everywhere, but there is only one Creator? Was Old Woman a spirit? What would happen to her if she, a white woman, appealed to Old Woman for advice?
Nonsense.
Rebecca trudged on ahead with the others, her pony snorting at her as though the animal knew her thoughts.
The sound of drums, far off in the distance, came to her softly at first, easing her tension so much so that Rebecca didn’t register the clamor of them until several minutes later. Suddenly she listened more intently.
Indian drums?
She asked the man ahead of her, “Do you hear it?”
At first, the man had seemed startled that she had taken to talking to him, but he recovered swiftly enough, and looking over his shoulder, had asked, “Hear what, ma’am?”
“The drums,” she responded. “Let us stop for a moment.”
“Now, ma’am, we can’t be doing that.”
But Rebecca wouldn’t be put off. She reined in her horse, the others having no choice but to do the same. She said, “Sh-h-h. Do you hear it?”
The men listened. “No, ma’am, I don’t hear nothing. Does any of you fellas?”
“No,” replied one, then the other.
“But it’s right there,” she insisted, “not too distant from us. Shouldn’t we investigate it and see about it?”
“No, ma’am. We needs ta get ya back ta the fort in one piece, now.”
“But I hear it. Please, let us go and see about it.”
The man in front of her sighed and turned back toward her. He said, “Jack, ya get yerself ta go with her, see if there’s any Injuns over that way. We’ll wait here for ya.”
Jack, the man in back of her, simply nodded and took the lead, saying only briefly to her, “Come on, ma’am.”
She went.
Strikes The Bear jumped upon his pony.
“Where do you go, my cousin?” Night Thunder had barely recovered enough to stand. But upon witnessing the other man mount his pony, he had pulled himself up from his bed. He now strode up to the man.
Strikes The Bear sneered, “It is nothing to you.” Pretending more strength than he felt, Night Thunder said, “It is everything to me if you go to hunt my wife.”
Strikes The Bear growled. “She is nothing to you now. She has left you. No longer is she Blackfoot.”
“She is Blackfoot and I will go and get her and bring her back. By the laws of our tribe, you have no right to find her and use her, if it is still revenge that you seek.”
“You have no right to tell me what I can do. She is
white,
or are your eyes so blind to her that you cannot see it?”
“
Aa,
my cousin, she is white.”
“And did not white people kill my wife? Did not white people abuse her? Did not white people cause me all of my pain? I hate all white people.”
A crowd of people had gathered around the two men, listening, murmurs of awe or perhaps dissatisfaction on their lips.