Savage Arrow (15 page)

He knew that Jessie was interested in what he did and said, for she was attentive to all of it. That was good, for if he had any control over her decision at all, she would never return to her world. She would become part of his.

“Jessie, even at Lone Wing’s young age, he could become our Historian,” Thunder Horse said, wanting to make certain that she understood why his nephew’s lessons were so important. “Almost every evening in my people’s lodges where there are children, a myth or a true story of some great deed, is narrated by parents or grandparents. The children listen with parted lips and glistening eyes, for they all want to be able to tell the same tales to their own children in the future.”

He smiled at Lone Wing and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “But only one of those braves has been singled out to know
all
of those myths and stories,” he said proudly. “My nephew is a keen listener and has a good memory. The stories and myths are easily mastered by him. The teachings that began when he was old enough to realize their importance enlightened his mind and stimulated his ambition. His conception of his own future became a vivid and irresistible force. Whatever there was for my nephew to learn, he would learn.”

“I hope I’m not a distraction,” Jessie said, looking slowly from Thunder Horse to Lone Wing. “Will I be?”

“No, never,” Thunder Horse said quickly. “You, too, will learn from the myth that I will tell today. You do want to learn, do you not?”

Jessie’s eyes widened. “Oh, yes, I do, so very much,” she said softly. “I want to know everything that I can about you and your people, since . . . I . . . will be living here among you.”

Thunder Horse’s heart skipped a beat, for he could not help hoping, from the way she said she would be living among his people, that she wanted to be there forever!

Or did she mean that she needed to understand his people to make it easier for her during the time she would be there . . . until she found somewhere else to go, or someone to care for her?

He looked quickly away from her and tried to focus on the lessons instead of thinking too much about Jessie.

“There once was a young brave who was called by the name Proud Boy,” Thunder Horse began, forcing his eyes to see only his nephew, not the woman. “He wandered along many trails. One day, when he came to a lonesome place beside a river, he sat for a long time and listened and heard things.”

“What kind of things?” Lone Wing asked, not for the sake of interruption, but in order to understand today’s myth fully.

“All things,” Thunder Horse said, slowly nodding.

“Tell me more,” Lone Wing urged, leaning forward, his eyes wide as he became totally involved in the story.

“There was a meadow place where an old doe lived with two spotted fawns,” Thunder Horse continued. “On this day the young brave saw the doe, but not the fawns. He knew they must be hidden somewhere in the long grass in the meadow. The afternoon was warm. Mosquitoes bothered him a great deal, but he knew that the fawns would not move from their beds until their mother came to them. So he waited.”

Thunder Horse paused, slid a slow gaze at Jessie, whom he found as taken by the story as was Lone Wing, then turned his eyes back to his nephew and continued. “A rabbit bobbed across the trail not far from Proud Boy,” he said. “When it entered the bushes, it turned suddenly and almost ran into Proud Boy’s foot. Something had scared the rabbit. Proud Boy’s eyes searched the bushes. He wanted to see what might have frightened the rabbit, because it might be
something that he also should run from. His eyes widened when he thought he saw a man’s nose.”

Thunder Horse smiled at Lone Wolf and Jessie. “But Proud Boy knew that sometimes shadows and sunshine play tricks in the forest,” he said. “He looked steadily at the nose and waited. Then he thought he saw an eye, but it did not wink. It did not move, but stared straight ahead.”

He chuckled when he saw Lone Wolf get up on his knees, his eyes wide and filled with wonder. “But Proud Boy knew that if it was a man’s eye, it had to blink sometime,” he said. “Suddenly there were more mosquitoes than ever. But Proud Boy did not dare brush them off for fear that the eye would blink and he would not see it.”

He paused, then continued. “A breeze suddenly moved the leaves on the bushes,” he said. “A braid of hair was then revealed to Proud Boy. And he thought that the eye might have blinked! Proud Boy spoke to the unknown one, but the unknown one did not speak back. Thinking that he was imagining all of this, Proud Boy rose to leave, but a voice spoke to him from behind the bushes. The voice said that he was one of the Echo People. He told Proud Boy that Echo People always hide behind rocks and bushes, that they speak every language and make every note the large birds make.”

“Echo People?” Lone Wing asked. “I have heard of them. They are everywhere.”

“
Ho
, nephew, wherever there are voices or birdsong
or coyote calls, there are Echo People,” Thunder Horse said, nodding. “But this day, Proud Boy did not actually see or hear one of the Echo People.”

“Then who was it that hid behind the bushes?” Lone Wing asked, his eyes widening even more.

“Proud Boy’s imagination conjured him up,” Thunder Horse said, laughing softly.

“But the Echo Person spoke to him,” Lone Wing said, settling back down again on the blankets.

“Nephew, Proud Boy did not have only a vivid imagination, but he also sometimes talked to himself,” Thunder Horse said, then reached a hand over and patted Lone Wing’s bare shoulder. “Think about that when you walk to your lodge. And, Lone Wing,
hakadah
, look closely at everything
you
see and hear. Notice which side of the tree has the lighter-colored bark, and which side has the most regular branches. Now answer me this, nephew: How do you know there are fish in yonder lake?”

“Because they jump out of the water for flies at midday,” Lone Wing said, pushing himself up to stand beside his uncle, who smiled proudly down at him.

“
Ho
, that is so,” Thunder Horse said. “Go now. Think about your lessons today. Soon you can repeat the story, but put your own twist to it, nephew. Make it interesting and fun.”

“I will,” Lone Wing said. He smiled at Jessie. “I will see you again soon.”

“Yes, soon,” Jessie murmured. She said nothing else until the youth was out of the tepee; then she smiled at Thunder Horse. “That was all so very interesting.”

“I did not get as serious as usual in my lessons today because I wanted to make your time listening to them more relaxed,” Thunder Horse said, shoving a log into the flames of the fire.

“I did enjoy it,” Jessie said, nodding. “And Lone Wing is such an astute student.”

“He is already well enough prepared to become our Historian should fate require it before he grows into full maturity,” he said thickly. “One never knows what tomorrow may bring, especially in these days when so much has been taken from my people.”

“And I am blood kin to one of those who took so much from you and your people,” Jessie murmured, lowering her eyes.

She looked quickly up at Thunder Horse again, her heart skipping a beat when she found that he had come around the fire and was now sitting beside her on the pallet of blankets.

She felt a blush heat her cheeks. He was so close she could reach out and touch him, and she was so tempted to do it.

She loved touching his smooth copper skin. She loved everything about him.

“
Ho
, Reginald Vineyard is one of those who took much from my band of people,” Thunder Horse said, nodding. He gazed into the flames of the fire. “But he is paying for it. Every night he pays.”

“What do you mean?” Jessie asked, suddenly picturing Reginald crying out as he ran down the corridor after having a frightful nightmare.

“Your cousin is visited by the spirits of my people’s
sacred cave,” Thunder Horse said, slowly turning his eyes back to Jessie. “Does he not experience the dreams that whites call nightmares?”

“Yes, he has nightmares,” Jessie said breathlessly, her heart pounding in her chest. “How would you know that?”

“Because that was what was necessary to make him realize the evil he did by entering my people’s sacred burial cave and disturbing the dead. He took white gold from the walls where the stories of my people were drawn long ago,” Thunder Horse said thickly.

“The cave where he found the silver was—”

“A sacred burial place for the chiefs of my people,” Thunder Horse said, interrupting her. “It is the cave where my own father will be placed when he finds peace in death.”

“Then it
is
a curse that causes Reginald’s nightmares,” Jessie said, now recalling Jade telling her something about an Indian’s curse.

“Let me tell you everything,” Thunder Horse said, reaching over and taking her hands in his.

“Yes, please tell me,” she murmured.

She swallowed hard as his eyes searched hers. Then he began the tale that explained Reginald’s nightmares.

“The curse is having the effect you wished it would have on Reginald,” Jessie said once Thunder Horse came to the end of the tale.

“And you?” Thunder Horse asked, gazing deeply into her eyes. “How do you feel about it?”

“I hate to say it, because of what Reginald once was
to me, but he has become an evil man, deserving of what you have chosen to do to torment him,” Jessie replied.

“Tomorrow a hunt is planned,” Thunder Horse said, suddenly changing the subject. “I do not want to leave you here at the village without me. Will you join me on the hunt?”

“I thought it was taboo for women to join in the hunt,” Jessie murmured.

“Not if the chief requests her company,” Thunder Horse said, placing his arms around her waist and drawing her closer to him. “And I am requesting it of you. Will you come?”

“Won’t I be in the way?” she asked, feeling his breath hot against her lips.

“Do you truly think I would ever see you as someone ‘in the way,’ as you call it?” he asked, then brought his lips down upon hers in a fiery kiss.

With an effort, Jessie forced herself back to reality. She was not yet ready to give herself to him completely, especially since she had the child to consider. She eased from his arms.

She gazed into his eyes. “It . . . is . . . too soon,” she murmured.

“I understand,” he said. “It is enough for me just to have you with me, where you are safe.”

“Yes, I feel very, very safe,” Jessie said as she snuggled against him when he placed an arm around her waist and drew her close to him. “Never have I felt as safe as I do when I am with you.”

“You have brought more into my world than you can
know,” Thunder Horse said thickly. He left it at that, for he did not want to reveal everything he felt for her just yet.

He knew now that he had plenty of time to do that, for he could tell that she was not planning to go anywhere. It was the way she had said, “It is too soon,” that told him there would be something more, later.

He had learned the art of waiting long ago. He smiled when he thought of how he felt when he had to wait for something special . . . waiting always enhanced the pleasure!

As the sun came through the dining-room window, casting light on the empty chair where Jessie normally sat, Reginald frowned and drummed his fingers against the tabletop.

When Jade came into the room carrying a platter piled high with bacon, flapjacks, and fried eggs, Reginald gave her a quick questioning frown.

He slammed a fist on the table just as she set the platter down, causing it to bounce. Some of the eggs slipped from the platter, their yolks breaking and running like orange tears across the white linen tablecloth.

“Where is she?” Reginald shouted, then suddenly began wheezing. “Jade, where is Jessie? She knows she’s supposed to take breakfast with me.”

Jade clasped her hands before her, wringing them as she glanced fearfully at Reginald. “I don’t know where she is, sir,” she said, her voice breaking.

“Are you telling me you haven’t seen her?” Reginald
demanded, his eyes narrowing angrily. “You normally help her dress in the morning. You brush her hair. So, where is she?”

Jade lowered her eyes, swallowed hard, then dared to look into Reginald’s angry eyes again. Through the thick lenses of his spectacles his angry eyes seemed ten times larger than normal this morning.

“Nay I have not seen her,” she murmured, still clasping and unclasping her hands.

“Stop that nonsense with your hands!” Reginald shouted. He coughed into his palm. “Stand still. Answer my questions. Do you hear? Tell me where Jessie is.”

“As I said, sir, I have not seen her this morning,” Jade gulped out, her heart pounding like a sledgehammer. “When I went to her room to awaken her, she . . . she . . . was gone.”

“She was gone?” Reginald said, jumping from his chair so quickly it tumbled to the floor behind him. “Are you saying she’s gone from my house?”

“Seems so, sir,” Jade said, swallowing hard as she hid her hands inside her apron pockets.

Reginald threw his white linen napkin on the table, then swirled around and stamped from the room. Wheezing almost uncontrollably, he hurried to Jessie’s bedroom.

He stared at the bed.

Either Jessie had made it upon first arising, which he doubted, or she had not slept in it at all.

His eyes slid slowly over to a window that was open. As he stuck his head out of it, he shouted Jessie’s name at the top of his lungs.

Realizing now that she had run away, he paled. But then another possibility occured to him.

Yes!

No doubt she had risen at dawn and was even now out riding the lovely horse he had given her. He felt stupid for having gotten so alarmed just because Jessie wasn’t at the breakfast table. Yet . . . it did appear that she had not slept at the house. And why was the window open?

The nights were cool, so she wouldn’t have slept with it open.

His mind aswirl with questions, he hurried from the room and went out to the corral, where he found the horse he had given Jessie gone as well. Yes, she was horseback riding and would surely return soon to have breakfast with him.