Night Thunder's Bride: Blackfoot Warriors, Book 3 (38 page)

“Please forgive me, sir,” she said, “but I must sit out this dance.” She ran a gloved hand over her brow, pretending fatigue, when what she really wanted to do was run outside, find a good mount, and be on her way back to Night Thunder.

Luckily, the young man did not know this and took her refusal good-naturedly, sauntering away.

“
Ki-tak-stai pes-ka’
?”
Rebecca started at the words, spoken in a baritone voice so achingly familiar.

She spun around.

What was this? It couldn’t be, and yet…

Was it truly Night Thunder standing before her? Night Thunder, in the flesh, not an apparition?

But my, what a figure he cut.

He stood before her in trousers and waistcoat, boots and top hat and white gloves. His hair had been pulled back, away from his face.

He bowed to her formally, saying again, “
Ki-tak-stai
pes-ka’
?
Will you dance?”

She felt herself grow faint. What was this?

He smiled at her. “Did you not tell me that it was at one of these balls that you would meet your future husband, the man you would love all your life?” And he repeated, “
Ki-tak-stai pes-ka’
?”

She couldn’t speak.

How had he gotten here? And so quickly? He hadn’t followed her, had he?

But her voice seemed unable to work and so she did the only thing possible: she placed her gloved hand into his.

The musicians struck up a waltz and he led her out onto the dance floor.

Dip, sway, twirl. They floated around the dance floor. Step, step, spin.

At last it finally occurred to her and she couldn’t help asking, “How have you learned the waltz?”

He grinned down at her. “I have been practicing since I arrived here.”

“And how long have you been here at the fort?”

“Since two days before you arrived. I have been here five days.”

She frowned up at him. “Have you? And why did you not come to me right away?”

He shrugged. “I wished to surprise you with the ball.”

“The ball?” she asked. “I thought it was White Eagle’s idea to have this.”

Night Thunder grinned. “White Eagle is a good friend.”

“And has everyone known you were here but me?”

Night Thunder had the grace to look chagrined. “I wanted to surprise you.”

She murmured softly, “You have.”

He stared down into her eyes, the music swirling around them. Step, step, sway, step, twirl; round and round, it was as though they were floating.

He said, “I love you, Rebecca. I want you with me. I want you to be a part of my life.”

She smiled. “And I love you. I will.”

He grinned, she did, too, and they floated around the floor until Rebecca voiced, “There are some things I must ask you, my husband. I had the oddest experience on the trail.”

He smiled at her, and he said, “I know. But first, there are others here whom you might enjoy seeing.”

“Are there, now?”

“Look over there to that corner,” he tilted his head. “See who is there?”

She looked. Blue Raven Woman sat in the corner with a few other Indian women, all of them chattering, talking, and laughing.

“You brought Blue Raven Woman here?”

“
Aa,
yes, I did. Her and her husband.”

“Her husband? Singing Bull?”

“
Aa
,”
he said, “Singing Bull.”

“Then it was real, that night upon the prairie. You were there.”

“I was there.”

“But how?”

“A medicine man is supposed to protect his secrets. Know though that a medicine man can sometimes, during moments of great need, project his image and his thoughts across distances. I wanted you to know that Blue Raven Woman had taken another as husband; one whom she has loved for many years.”

Rebecca closed her eyes. “Then there really isn’t any reason why we can’t—”

He whispered in her ear. “There is not.”

“Oh, Night Thunder.” She couldn’t help herself. She drew herself even closer into his arms. “I have been so silly.”

He laughed then and twirled her into a series of turns, their gazes locked, each smiling into the other’s eyes.

After some moments, however, he asked her, “Why did you leave me? I had wanted to tell you that I had decided not to marry Blue Raven Woman, but I could not tell you of my plans until I had settled the matter with her and her parents.”

“You had been?” And she suddenly remembered the conversation she had heard between Night Thunder and Singing Bull.

He nodded. “But by the time I had resolved that matter, you had gone.” He asked again, “Why did you leave me? Did you not know of my feelings for you?”

“I…suppose that…aye, I did, but I…you had said something about her, about Blue Raven Woman the night when you were resting from the Sun Dance.”

“I did?”

“Aye.”

“In my sleep?”

“Aye.”

“And what did I say?”

“Don’t you know?”

“
Saa
, I do not.”

“You said you loved someone’s daughter, and I could only think you meant Blue Raven Woman. There were so many other reasons why I thought I should leave—for her sake, for yours. It seemed the best thing to do for everybody.”

He smiled and pulled her in closer. He said, “
Aa,
yes, my wife. We have both been silly. I should have confided in you at once. But I thought I could not.”

She nodded. “I understand.”

“But do you not know?” he continued, “Do you not know that it is
you
who is the daughter of Sun? He has given you back to us, and by doing so has made you his daughter. It was you that I spoke of. I was telling you that I love you.”

“Oh, Night Thunder.” She threw herself against him and he accepted her weight, swinging her around and around, until their dizzying laughter could be heard across the dance floor.

“Goodness,” she said. “Why did I not become aware of this before now?”

“What?”

“Do you not see?” she said. “I knew I would meet my love, the man I would marry, at a dance. Do you not remember the first time we met?”

It took him a moment, but all at once he grinned. “
Sina-paskan,
the dance of the Sioux, that night when I tricked you into a kiss.”

“Aye, do you see? I should have known it all along. It was then that I met the man I was to marry.”

He laughed.

“You
are not the only one who has some surprises,” she said and, glancing down, held her hand to her belly. “I, too, have something to tell you. Soon,” she voiced, her eyes beaming up at him with happiness, “you will be a father.”

His face alit all at once with more joy than she had ever witnessed in him, and his eyes filled with such love, she was left in no doubt as to his feelings for her, for their child.

And as the two of them stepped off the dance floor, in order to converse more privately, Blue Raven Woman and Singing Bull took to the dance to try their hand in the white man’s waltz. Meanwhile, White Eagle and Katrina, Gray Hawk and Genevieve all stepped around the floor to the ever-thrilling three-quarter beat, and the shadow of the old man stood in the corner, watching the proceedings with a sad-sweet smile.

He had done well, thought the old man. Because of the good deed done for these two here tonight, all his people had been allowed to complete their journey to the Sand Hills, there to join their relatives, and he had ensured the safety of the
Pikuni
by uniting the white woman with the medicine man.

Rebecca would bring great happiness to the young medicine man, the two of them and their friends helping the tribes through times that would seem to hold nothing but bleakness.

Aa,
yes, he had done well.

If only…

Someday, he thought; someday, he would find his wife, who had been lost to him for so long.

But for now he was happy.

The tribes would survive. And these here tonight would thrive for all of their lives in happiness.

All was as it should be.

Alas! Alas! Why could not this simple life have continued? Why must the railroads, and the swarms of settlers, have invaded that wonderful land, and robbed its lords of all that made life worth living? They knew not care, nor hunger, nor want of any kind. From my window here I hear the roar of the great city, and see the crowds hurrying by. The day is bitterly cold, yet the majority of the passersby, women as well as men, are thinly clad, and their faces are thin, and their eyes express sad thoughts. Many of them have no warm shelter from the storm, know not where they can get a little food, although they would gladly work for it with all their strength. They are “bound to the wheel,” and there is no escape from it except by death. And this is civilization! I, for one, maintain that there is no satisfaction, no happiness in it. The Indians of the plains back in those days of which I write alone knew what was perfect content and happiness, and that, we are told, is the chief end aim of men—to be free from want, and worry, and care. Civilization will never furnish it, except to the very, very few.

—JAMES WILLARD
SCHULTZ,
My Life as an Indian

Glossary

This note appears in my first book in the Blackfoot Warrior series. It is repeated here, with a few other definitions added, so as to bring a better understanding to the work and to define certain words which might otherwise be hard to find.

At the time when this story takes place, there were three different tribes of Indians that together comprised the Blackfeet or Blackfoot Nation: the Piegan, or
Pikuni,
their name in the Blackfoot language; the Blood or
Kainah,
and the Blackfoot proper or
Siksika.

The
Piegan,
which is pronounced Pay-gan, were also divided into the Northern and Southern bands.

All three of these tribes were independent and were known by the early trappers by their own individual tribal names. But because the three shared the same language, intermarried, and went to war with the same enemies, it became more common, as time went on, to call these people under one name, the Blackfeet or Siksikauw.

At this time, the time of my story, the names Blackfoot and Blackfeet were used interchangeably, meaning one and the same groups of people.

However, during reservation days (the story goes, as I was told it), the U.S. government utilized a misnomer, calling the tribe of the Southern Piegan, or
Pikuni,
the “Blackfeet.” This designation stuck, and to this day, this tribe resides in northern Montana on the Blackfeet reservation, and are referred to, by the government, as the Blackfeet (although they are really the Southern Piegan or
Pikuni).

Consequently, when we speak today of the Blackfoot tribes, or the Siksika Nation as a whole, we talk of four different tribes: the Blackfoot, Blood, and
Piegan
bands in Canada, and the Blackfeet in Montana. Thus, today when referring to the “Blackfeet,” one is speaking of the band of Indians in Montana (on the Blackfeet reservation), whereas the name “Blackfoot” refers to the band of Indians in Alberta, Canada (on the Blackfoot reserve).

If this seems confusing to you, I can assure you, it baffled me.

Thus, in my story, because the Blackfeet and Blackfoot names were interchangeable at this moment in history, I have used “Blackfeet” as a noun (“I went to visit the Blackfeet”), and “Blackfoot” as an adjective (“I went to Blackfoot country”). I did this for no other reason than consistency.

I am also including some definitions of common Indian words, as well as some newer Irish terms for this, the third book in the Blackfoot Warrior series. I hope this will help toward further understanding.

Afeared—an Irish way of saying afraid.

Algonquin—“member of a group of Indian tribes formerly of the Ottawa River valley in southeastern Canada. Also, Algonquian—widespread American-Indian language family spoken from Labrador westward to the Rockies and southward to Illinois and North Carolina.”
The Scribner-Bantam English Dictionary, 1977.
Some of the tribes which spoke this language were the Cheyenne, Blackfeet, Arapaho, Shawnee, and Ottawa.

Assiniboin Indians—a tribe of Indians whose territory bordered the Blackfeet on the east. These Indians were at war with the Blackfeet.

The Backbone of the World—term used by the Blackfeet to indicate the Rocky Mountains.

Coup—a term used widespread by the Indians to mean a deed of valor.

Cree—a tribe of Indians closely associated with the Assiniboin, whose territory bordered the Blackfeet on the east.

Crow—a tribe of Indians that inhabited that part of the northern United States, around the upper Yellowstone River. They were at war with the Blackfeet.

Dog Society Dance—a dance given by the Dog Society of the Blackfeet. These different societies denoted different social strata.

Duggins—an Irish term meaning rags.

Gros Ventre—a tribe of Indians which neighbored the Blackfeet.