Savage Skies (8 page)

The other woman seemed to have lost everything that was precious to her. It was a plight Speckled Fawn recognized all too well. She had felt the same way, had lost just as much the day her wagon train was ambushed and her parents lost their lives.

Beauty is truth, truth beauty—
That is all ye know on earth,
And all ye need to know.

—Keats

Shirleen sat beside the fire sorting through the rest of the clothes. As she picked up another dress that she had sewn for her daughter a few months ago, and that had been worn by Megan only a couple of days ago, she brought the pretty garment to her nose and smelled it. Shirleen had not yet had the chance to wash it before her world had been torn asunder.

Oh, where was her precious child?

Shirleen felt the sting of tears in her eyes as she held the dress close to her cheek. The aroma of her daughter as she had always smelled right after a bath was still on the clothes as Shirleen had hoped it would be.

The thought of not being able to protect her child tore at her very being. Her heart ached as if someone were squeezing it.

As soon as she was able, she would leave
this place and go to the nearest fort to report her missing daughter.

She was certain the colonel in charge would send out the cavalry to search for Megan.

Shirleen would ride with them, for although she was not skilled at outdoorsy things since she had been such a homebody while growing up, she did know how to ride a horse. She had enjoyed an occasional outing with her father, horseback riding through the park on cool summer days.

At this moment she missed her papa almost as much as Megan, for he was the man who had always given her the courage to attempt things she otherwise could not face. He had always managed to make her wrongs right.

If he were there now to encourage her, surely the pain of missing her daughter would be more bearable. He would hold her close and tell her not to doubt that she would be reunited with her daughter.

“Oh, Papa, I do hope that I am reunited with Megan, and soon,” she whispered to herself as she continued to hold the dress to her face, even though her tears were wetting it.

Lost in thought, Shirleen wasn't aware that she was no longer alone. She hadn't heard Speckled Fawn step quietly into the tepee.

She didn't realize that the woman had seen her hugging Megan's dress and crying. She didn't notice when Speckled Fawn silently withdrew.

Sighing, she placed the dress with Megan's
other clothes and then stacked her own things in a pile.

Having these things made her feel a little less lonesome for the happy life she had once known before she had been abused by her husband, for most of these clothes had been brought from Boston.

If not for the birth of her daughter, she would wish that she had never left Boston to journey to this dangerous territory with a man she too soon learned to fear. But she had heard so much about the exciting West that the opportunity to go there had been too tempting to let herself think about the possible pitfalls of living there.

Having chosen the clothes she would keep, she shoved the other things into the travel bag and took them to the entrance flap.

After shoving aside the skin hide, she set the clothes on the ground on the opposite side of the entranceway from where the warrior stood. He did not look down at her, did not seem even to know that she had leaned out from the tepee, if only for a moment.

She took the time to observe the activity of the village and caught sight of Speckled Fawn disappearing inside Chief Blue Thunder's large tepee.

Seeing the woman going there caused a spurt of surprising jealousy to rush through her. She did not like the idea that the white woman could come and go with such ease from this handsome Indian's lodge, as though she was something special to him.

Shirleen had to remind herself that this woman had a husband. Surely Blue Thunder was only her chief, a strange thought since she was white.

Shaking jealousy from her mind, and reminding herself it was foolish to fantasize over Blue Thunder, she turned and hurried back inside the tepee.

Because her meal had been interrupted earlier, she was still hungry, so she ladled another bowl of food out for herself.

As she slowly ate it, Shirleen could not stop herself from wondering why the other white woman had been going inside the chief's lodge.

“Speckled Fawn,” Shirleen whispered between bites. “I wonder what her true name is, and why she chooses to go by an Indian name.”

Yes, she was puzzled by everything about this woman. What in her past did she want to deny so badly that she had taken on an entirely new identity?

I will be the gladdest thing under the sun,
I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one.
I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes.

—Millay

The early morning sun had just risen on a new day when Blue Thunder heard someone outside his lodge, waiting to be admitted.

When he opened the entrance flap, he discovered it was his uncle's wife, Speckled Fawn.

“Enter,” Blue Thunder said as he gestured his visitor toward a thick pallet of furs near the lodge fire.

Speckled Fawn smiled weakly at him as she came further into the tepee, then sat down where she could look across the slowly burning flames in his firepit and see him clearly.

“Why have you come?” Blue Thunder asked, folding his arms across his muscled chest. “Is it about my uncle? Has he worsened since I last looked in on him?”

“He is no better, nor worse,” Speckled Fawn said, nervously fidgeting with some fringe on her white doeskin dress.

“Then why have you come and interrupted my morning if not with news of my uncle?” Blue Thunder asked, though he had already guessed why.

He had seen her come and go from the white woman's lodge more than once.

Surely Speckled Fawn had appointed herself the woman's guardian since they both had the same color of skin.

But that was the only physical similarity between them. One was tiny and fragile-looking, the other full-bodied.

He had never had any true reason to dislike the one with the golden hair, especially since she had made his uncle so happy during his last days on this earth.

It was just that he had never wanted her among his people in the first place, to attract other unwanted whites there.

But thus far she had not been the cause of any misfortune to his village, instead she had brought good, since she had found a way to make an old man feel young again before he had become lost in his silent world.

Blue Thunder could not fault Speckled Fawn, for anything; she had fit in well enough with his people. He no longer worried about her being in the village.

“You do not speak yet as to why you are here, taking up the important time of your chief,” Blue Thunder said, placing his hands on his knees as he crossed his legs at his ankles.
“Speak up, woman. You must have a reason for being here. Tell me what it is.”

“Last night I visited the white woman,” Speckled Fawn said softly. “I brought her some of the clothes taken by the renegades. When she saw them, she reacted strongly to the sight of a child's dress. I believe that dress belonged to her own child, a girl of perhaps four winters according to the size of the clothes. My chief, I saw the woman clinging to the dress and crying. I wonder where the child is, since she was not among those you rescued.”

Blue Thunder's eyes narrowed as he continued to gaze at Speckled Fawn. “Do you really believe this woman is the mother of a small girl child?” he asked.

“Truly I do,” Speckled Fawn murmured. “And although I introduced myself to her, and even asked her name, she did not offer it to me.”

“Her name is Shirleen,” Blue Thunder said, in his mind's eye seeing the beautiful, petite woman clinging to a tiny child's dress. He was touched to know that she might be a mother.

But that had to mean she also had a husband. Perhaps he had been away from home when the massacre had occurred.

Knowing that the woman surely had both a child and a husband aroused jealousy in Blue Thunder's heart that he did not want to feel.

Although Shirleen had spoken to his heart with her lovely sweetness and vulnerabilty, it would be better if he could deny his attraction
to her. Her presence among his Wind Band might draw unwelcome white people to his village. Among them could be a husband, brother, or father, or even the cavalry searching for those who had been taken from their homes by the renegades.

Ho
, all of this could happen, and it would be bad for his people. When white and red men's lives collided, only trouble came from it.

But the possibility that this woman had a child who had been stolen from her touched his heart. He, too, had a daughter whom he loved dearly. How could he ignore a parent's sadness over the loss of a daughter?

“Blue Thunder, if Shirleen has been separated from her child, does this change your feelings about her?” Speckled Fawn dared to ask.

“The child might be with her
ahte
, her father,” Blue Thunder suggested, even though he did not truly believe she was. Why would an
ahte
take a child to the trading post and not ask his
mitawin
, his wife, to accompany him?

No, it did not seem logical.

“I doubt that,” Speckled Fawn said. “A man has no time to coddle a daughter while hunting, or bargaining at a trading post. And surely the woman's husband was hunting or getting supplies when the ambush happened at his home.”

Seeing the logic in what she said, Blue Thunder nodded.

“Blue Thunder, please send out warriors to search for the child,” Speckled Fawn begged.

She had always tried not to antagonize Blue
Thunder in any way, wanting to keep peace between herself and this powerful young chief.

But now things were different. If she needed to press her point about searching for the missing child, then so be it.

“Blue Thunder, if the child wandered away on her own, and is now all alone out there somewhere, it isn't fair to leave her at the mercy of two or four-legged creatures that might happen along and find her,” Speckled Fawn said, this time more forcefully.

She knew the chief had a kind, caring heart, especially where children were concerned. He had a daughter of his own and would never allow any harm to come to her. So she was sure she had reached him and that he would not ignore her pleadings.

“Speckled Fawn, leave me now,” Blue Thunder said tightly.

“What are you going to do?” she blurted out, not caring that he might grow angry at her insistence.

“Speckled Fawn, you have said what you came to say,” Blue Thunder replied. He rose to his feet and gently took her by the elbow to help her to her feet. “Go. I have listened. You are free now to sit with your husband.”

Speckled Fawn walked with him to the entrance flap, allowing him to usher her from his lodge. She knew that she had been heard, and for her that was enough.

Now it was out of her hands. It was up to the chief to do what he knew was right.

Once outside, beneath a cloudy sky, Speckled Fawn turned and gave Blue Thunder a soft smile as he released his hold on her elbow.

“
Pila-maye
, thank you for listening,” she murmured, then walked slowly away from him toward her own lodge, where she did plan to go and spend the rest of the morning with her husband.

Although she doubted he would hear much of what she said, she was still going to sit there and talk with him about the things he used to enjoy discussing after they first married.

He had been eager to know all about her, and she had told him the story of her life, everything except the bad, sad times that would never leave her. Those memories were imbedded in her heart, like leaves fossilized into stone.

But her life now was one of sweetness and peace. It was a vastly different world from the one she had known before coming to these wonderful people.

Blue Thunder watched Speckled Fawn until she disappeared inside her tepee. Then he turned slowly and gazed at the lodge where the other white woman temporarily made her home.

He had experienced many emotions since he had come face-to-face with the scarlet-haired woman. He had to deal with those feelings in the right way.

But now that he knew of a child who was surely in harm's way, the little girl must take precedence over everything and everyone else.

Give me a mind that is not bound
That does not whimper, whine or sigh.

—Webb

Blue Thunder knew that he must not act too quickly on his decision to help Shirleen's little lost girl, or his people might see into his heart and feel that he was putting too much effort into this white woman's plight. She should just be another white woman to him, like Speckled Fawn. He should not be showing so much interest in her and her family.

He knew it was best not to think too much about this beautiful, flame-haired woman, but he could not help himself. She had touched his heart almost from the moment he'd seen her as he surveyed the Comanche renegades below him from the hilltop.

Her courage had called out to him. Captured by a fierce, murdering enemy, she had nonetheless walked boldly, proudly onward, as though to say to her captors that they had not gotten
the best of her, and that she would survive whatever they did to her.

Ho
, he had seen pride and courage in her, while all along she might have been mourning the loss of a child, not knowing whether she was dead or alive!

She was braver than most women he had known in his life, white or red-skinned.

His wife had been a woman of such strength, too. She had been dealt many hurts in her lifetime, but had never succumbed to them.

When he married her, he had taken her away from a spiteful sister whose jealousy had caused his wife much pain.