The Spirit Path (29 page)

“He won!” Maggie exclaimed, blushing a little at her emotional outburst.

Winona nodded. “I always thought he was part horse, he could run so fast. Now, I must go find Red Arrow’s wife. She wagered a pair of quilled moccasins against my red blanket. It is time she paid up.”

Maggie chuckled softly. The Lakota, both men and women, loved to gamble. Any game, any contest, was sure to be wagered upon.

She watched Hawk as he teased Red Arrow, accusing his best friend of getting too old and lazy to run a mere two miles. Red Arrow gave Hawk a good-natured thump on the shoulder and promised to get even next time.

When the races were done the people went back to their lodges to rest and eat the noonday meal. And then Red Arrow and his wife and son came to visit. Little Owl crawled into Winona’s lap and begged for a story and she agreed to tell him one if he promised to take a nap when it was over.

At his solemn nod, she began to tell one of the Sioux creation stories. Maggie remembered the story Hawk had told her, but this one was different. This wasn’t about the creation of people, but the creation of the earth.

As Maggie listened, she realized that Winona’s story was very similar to the story of the creation found in the Bible, for her story also told how
Maka
,
the earth, was formed, from
Inyan
,
the rock, and how
Wakán Tanka
created the heavens, which he called
Skan
.
He also created the great waters and divided the light from the darkness so that there was night and day. Day was called
Anpetu
,
and the light of day, or the sun, was called
Wi
,
and
Wakán Tanka
called the darkness
Han,
and he called the moon
Hanhepi wi.

Maggie let out a deep breath as Winona finished her story. It was a beautiful tale filled with wonder and mystery, so different from the biblical creation of the earth and yet so similar that she felt a new closeness with Hawk and his people.

As promised, Little Owl went to take a nap, and Winona left the lodge to visit Star-on-the-Wind’s mother, leaving Hawk and Maggie alone.

Shadow Hawk studied Maggie’s face, the faint smile that curved her lips, the peaceful look in her eyes. She seemed happy here with the Lakota, but he couldn’t help wondering if she missed her own people. Her life was so different from his. He found it hard to believe she could be happy here, when every day was a struggle for survival, that she didn’t long to return to her own house, to all the modern wonders that made the life of the white man so easy, so comfortable.

Odd as it seemed, sometimes
he
missed the marvels of her age, the luxury of a hot bath, the sweet taste of chocolate, even watching television. She had known those things all her life.

“Are you happy here with my people? With me?” he asked quietly.

Maggie basked in the deep, rich sound of his voice, warmed to the depths of her heart by the love shining in his eyes.

“Oh, yes,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “More than I can say.”

“You liked my mother’s story.”

Maggie nodded. “It’s very like what my people believe.” She took his hand in hers and pressed it to her lips. “Someday, we will tell it to our children, and our children’s children.”

Hawk grunted softly, his love for her filling him with such tenderness it was almost painful. “Ah, Mag-gie, you are like
Wi
,
filled with warmth and light.”

“And you are like
Inyan
,
strong and powerful, yet you make me feel weak.”

Shadow Hawk’s fingertips caressed her cheek. “Are you weak now?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.

“Weak with wanting you,” Maggie whispered, and felt the familiar flutter deep in the core of her being as Hawk drew her into his arms and kissed her.

Ever mindful of the new life she carried, his hands were tender, gentle as they moved over her body. His dark-eyed gaze lingered on her face, the look in his eyes more eloquent than a thousand words.

And Maggie gave herself to him willingly, wholly, holding nothing back.

He was
Inyan
,
the rock upon which all her hopes and dreams were built.

And she was
Wi
,
the sun, giver of life, who filled his world with light and warmth.

And for Maggie there were no fears.

And for Hawk there was no darkness.

Maggie had a chance to see her first Lakota ceremony a few days later. Buffalo Heart’s youngest daughter, Tashia, was six years old and her mother had decided that it was time for
Nonge Pahloka
,
the ear-piercing ceremony.

It was a happy time. By performing this ceremony, Tashia’s parents and grandmother were displaying their love for the child.

Shadow Hawk had been chosen to pierce Tashia’s ears. It was an honor, for only a man of respect, one esteemed for his bravery and wisdom, was chosen for such a thing.

Maggie sat between Winona and Star-on-the-Wind, caught up in the festivities. Tashia’s grandmother had prepared a great feast of roast venison and the people ate with gusto, knowing this would be the last big feed before winter closed in.

Maggie felt a wave of gratitude to Veronica for teaching her to speak the Lakota language. It was wonderful to be able to converse with Winona and Star-on-the-Wind. Knowing their language eased the barriers between them, making Maggie more readily accepted by the Indian people. Many were surprised to learn she could speak their tongue fluently. Women who had looked at her with suspicion and distrust looked at her through new eyes when they discovered she could speak their language.

Tashia’s parents placed the girl on a large blanket. All around her were gifts that would be given away as a token of their love for their daughter. The most valuable gift, a Winchester rifle, was given to Hawk.

Tashia was very brave as Hawk took a sharp awl and pierced her ears.

Afterward, the gifts were handed out.

Later, Maggie and Hawk walked hand in hand along the river. It was peaceful and quiet, with only the soft calling of crickets and frogs to mar the stillness. Overhead, a million twinkling stars smiled down on them.

Maggie smiled up at Hawk. “It was a great honor for you, wasn’t it, to be chosen to pierce Tashia’s ears?”

“Yes. I had thought they would ask Sitting Bull.”

“Why didn’t they?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps because Bobby is my friend and Buffalo Heart and his wife wished to honor him through me.”

Maggie nodded. “He’s very much in love with Star-on-the-Wind.”

“Yes. I think they will be married soon.”

Maggie smiled, eager for Bobby to find the same kind of happiness she had found. “He’s adapted well to life here.”

“It is in his blood to be a warrior.”

“Perhaps he was right,” Maggie mused. “Perhaps he was born in the wrong time after all.”

“He will be happy here,” Shadow Hawk remarked. “But what of you, Mag-gie? How long will you be content to stay here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you not miss the ease of your old life?”

Maggie shrugged. “There are things I miss,” she admitted, “but none of them compare to you. After all, you can’t make love to a microwave, and curling up in your arms is much more satisfying than curling up in front of the TV.”

Shadow Hawk grinned. “Then you will be content to spend the rest of your life here, with me?”

“I’d be content to spend the rest of my life with you anywhere,” Maggie said emphatically, and kissed him soundly, putting an end to the last of his doubts.

The weather was mild for the next few days and then, without warning, winter returned. The wind blew down out of the north, its teeth sharp and cold. Rain pummeled the lodge skins, thunder shook the earth, and lightning danced across the skies, occasionally striking one of the tall pines.

A week later it began to snow. Unlike the last time, when the snow had lasted only two days, this storm lasted for a week.

Maggie and Winona stayed inside the lodge, huddled around a fire. Occasionally Bobby and Hawk went outside to check on the horses and search for game. And like every other able-bodied man in the village, they took their turns at keeping watch, ever mindful that the wily Crow liked nothing better than to creep up on a winter village and steal horses and scalps.

Sometimes Star-on-the-Wind came to the lodge, ostensibly to visit Maggie and Winona, but Maggie noticed that Star-on-the-Wind never seemed to come calling when Bobby was away from the lodge.

Star was a beautiful young woman. She was tall and slender with smooth, clear skin and dancing black eyes. The three women spent many afternoons together and Maggie soon learned how to make moccasins, how to quill, how to make leggings and shirts.

Maggie had never been one for sewing, but now she found it was an excellent way to pass a wintry day, and relaxing as well. She took a great deal of pride in the first shirt she made for Hawk, pleased with the fit, the design of dyed porcupine quills that adorned the yoke, the way the fringes on the sleeves swayed when he moved.

As winter progressed they began to make baby clothes. Winona made a small robe of white rabbit fur, Star-on-the-Wind made several clouts, while Maggie sewed a half-dozen sacques similar to ones she’d seen in the stores. It wasn’t anything as fine as infant wear by Carter’s, but all in all, she was pleased with her handiwork.

Since Maggie was not versed in all the Lakota ways, and since she didn’t have a mother to guide her, Star’s mother, Blue Fawn, made two “sand lizards” explaining that one of the two little pouches would hold the child’s umbilical cord. She went on to say that the amulet was fashioned after a lizard because lizards were hard to kill, thus it was fitting that the lizard’s protective powers should be used to guard the child’s substance. One pouch would be used for the cord, the other was a decoy to guard the child against malevolent forces.

Maggie had trouble believing that carrying her son’s umbilical cord in a pouch shaped like a lizard would protect him from anything, but she accepted Blue Fawn’s offerings politely and stored them with the baby’s other things, eagerly waiting for the day when her son would be born, when she could hold Hawk’s child in her arms and see the visible proof of the love that had spanned time and space.

She was touched by the love and generosity of Winona and Star and Blue Fawn, but it was the cradle that Hawk made for their son that brought tears to Maggie’s eyes. Usually, the father’s sister made the cradle, but Hawk had no sister and so he made their child’s first bed himself.

Looking at it, Maggie saw his love for their unborn child in the delicate carvings in the headboard, in the shape and texture of the wood, in the strip of softly tanned hide that lined it.

Sometimes, late at night, he lay with his head on her breast, his hand resting lightly on the gentle swell of her belly, and told her of his childhood, of growing up with Red Arrow, of his first clumsy attempt with a bow, of his first pony and how he’d cried with shame the first time he tumbled off the animal’s back.

Listening, Maggie could imagine her own son following in his father’s footsteps. She’d never been able to imagine Hawk changing diapers or driving their son to soccer games, but she could picture him hunkered down beside their son teaching him how to track a rabbit to its hole, how to distinguish between the tracks of a dog and coyote, how to follow the buffalo.

Closing her eyes, she imagined herself surrounded by black-haired children, boys who would grow to be tall and handsome as their father, girls who were beautiful and modest.

Winter was mild that year. They had enough to eat, and if Maggie grew weary of jerky and pemmican, at least they didn’t go hungry.

Gradually, the days grew warmer. Slender green shoots poked their way through the snow. Soon the trees were clothed in bright new emerald gowns, the sky turned from leaden gray to azure, and a bright profusion of flowers blossomed seemingly overnight.

Newborn foals frolicked in the greening meadow, birds sang in the trees, and Maggie felt the first faint flutter of new life.

It was spring. The Lakota shook off the lethargy of winter in much the same way the horses shed their winter coats. Lodges were swept, robes were aired. The men went hunting. The children threw off their heavy shirts and ran barefoot in the sun.

And on a bright clear afternoon, Bobby Proud Eagle asked Shadow Hawk to speak to Star-on-the-Wind’s parents.

Shadow Hawk grinned at the eager look on Bobby’s face. “So, the time has come,” he said, slapping his friend on the back.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Bobby said. “Please, Hawk, go today.”

“Have you asked her?”

“Of course.”

“And she said yes?

Bobby nodded impatiently. “Go! The horses are outside.”

Shadow Hawk lifted an inquiring brow. “Horses?”

“Where do you think I’ve been the last four days? I’ve been out stealing horses from the Crow.”

Seeing Maggie’s astonished look, Shadow Hawk laughed out loud. “Truly, Proud Eagle, you are one of us. I shall be proud to carry your wishes to the brother of Star-on-the-Wind.”

Winona offered Bobby something to eat, but he was too nervous. He knew Star would marry him, but what if her brother refused the match? What if he didn’t think the horses were good enough?

Maggie and Winona exchanged amused glances as Bobby paced the lodge. Everyone in the village had been expecting this day. Everyone, except Bobby, knew that Star’s parents and brother had agreed to the marriage.

Bobby whirled around as Hawk entered the lodge. “Well? What did Owl Feather say?”

Slowly, Shadow Hawk shook his head, hiding a teasing grin by looking down at the ground. “I am sorry, Proud Eagle. The elder brother of Star-on-the-Wind said no.”

Bobby stared at Hawk. “He said no?” Bobby’s face contorted with anger. “He said no! Then we’ll run away!”

Shadow Hawk lifted a restraining hand. “Wait! He did not say no. It is all arranged. The marriage will take place in a month’s time.”

“A month,” Bobby said, groaning.

“It is to give Star-on-the-Wind and her mother time to gather hides for a lodge. The time will go fast,
sunkaku
.
There is much for you to do as well.”

The time did go fast. A month later, on a bright sunny morning in late April, Bobby Proud Eagle took Star-on-the-Wind as his wife. It was, of course, an occasion for a feast, for the exchange of gifts, for dancing.

Star-on-the-Wind pitched her new lodge near Winona’s and the couple set up housekeeping. Maggie was disappointed to learn that the newlyweds would not have a honeymoon, but Hawk explained that such a thing was not wise due to the constant warfare between the Lakota and the Crow and the Pawnee. However, for the next few days, Bobby and Star-on-the-Wind were seldom seen outside their lodge and Maggie decided they were having what might be called an in-house honeymoon.

In early May, the
Nacas
decided it was time to move the Hunkpapa village back to the Black Hills, and Shadow Hawk began making preparations to take Hawk’s people to Canada. Surprisingly, several of Sitting Bull’s people expressed an interest in going to the Land of the Grandmother. The thought pleased Shadow Hawk. Instead of traveling with mostly women and children, there would be over twenty seasoned warriors riding with him.

It was hard to say goodbye. Star-on-the-Wind wept as she bid farewell to her parents, and Maggie choked back tears of her own as she hugged Buffalo Heart and Blue Fawn, certain she’d never see either of them again. Bobby put his arm around Star, holding her close as they watched Sitting Bull’s people ride southward.

“I’ll miss them,” Maggie murmured.

Shadow Hawk nodded, but there was no time for melancholy feelings. It was time they were on their way.

“Come,” he said, “we have much to do before we leave tomorrow morning.”

They left early on a bright clear day. Maggie was eager to begin. Years ago she’d gone to Canada on vacation with her parents and she remembered it as a beautiful place, lush and green.

But once the journey began in earnest, much of her excitement dissipated. Riding a horse six or seven hours a day was a lot different from a pleasure ride, especially when you were five months pregnant. The constant jarring made her back ache. Her increasing girth made her feel clumsy and awkward. She had to stop frequently to empty her bladder. Sometimes she walked, but she tired easily and then, when all she wanted to do was sleep, she had to climb back on a horse and ride until it was time to make camp for the night.

She grew increasingly grateful for Hawk’s mother. Winona was always there to share the work. Maggie had always thought it would be awful to have to live with her mother-in-law, but Winona treated her with love and respect and Maggie found she enjoyed having the older woman around. It was nice to be able to share the complaints of pregnancy with someone who understood, someone who could tell her that what she was feeling was perfectly normal, someone she could ask for advice.

Hawk was unfailingly kind and attentive. He did his best to make Maggie comfortable. In the evenings, he rubbed her back and shoulders, massaged her feet, her neck. He held her in his arms when she cried for no reason at all. Some nights, he brushed her hair. Other nights, he carried her away from the camp to some private place where he undressed her and bathed her as if she were a child, drying her with a soft cloth, and then rubbing her skin with sage.