White Eagle's Touch (34 page)

He sighed. “I do not like it.”

“I know,” she said, “but I am determined.”

He turned away from her, and she was happy to notice a look of resignation on his face.

“Very well,” he said, “but you are to wait on us, and you are to do it all without the least complaint. For if you do whine, the others will mock you, and there is nothing I can do to keep them from doing this. It is the way of things. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“And when the time comes, you are to keep well away from any fighting. Do you promise?”

Another nod.

“So be it,” he said, and, with only the barest of glances in her direction, he turned and walked away from her, leaving Katrina to do nothing more than stare at the rhythmic steps of his walk and to note the strength of his very broad back.

It was really too bad that they weren’t going to be able to have marital relations.

Oh, well,
she thought, and she sighed.

White Eagle watched Shines Like Moonlight from a spot on an incline where the grove of trees hid his presence from her. She was trying to light the evening fire, but she was not making good work of it.

He sighed. He knew that she had never used the stones of flint until now, but somehow he had thought she might take to the task a little more readily than she was doing.

And he wondered: How much longer could he and his warriors endure her “help”?

The way she hit the stones together was never going to make anything spark, nor would she be able to create a fire if she didn’t place some tinder below where she worked.

The puffs of grass that she used were not dry enough to cause anything to ignite. However, the sound that she made from striking the stones had a sort of rhythm, and he found himself tapping his foot to that beat.

He supposed he would have to go down there—yet again—to show her the proper way to ignite the fire. But even that wouldn’t solve their party’s problems with her, and he knew it.

He looked toward her now, as she rose to her feet. She stretched, drawing her hand over her forehead, and White Eagle found himself looking at her as a man looks at his woman, his body responding with physical abandon to this vision.

He wondered if she realized the temptation she presented, deciding that she most likely did not. She could not see herself, whereas he…

The shirt she wore hitched up with her movement, presenting him with the loveliest picture of her legging-clad thighs, the tight fit of those leggings defining to perfection her shapely legs. It wasn’t until he had seen her this way that he had realized how much beauty her long dresses had hid from him. Luckily for him, the shirt she wore usually fell to her knees; not that this did a great amount of good, since she wore the shirt belted at the waist, that tending to emphasize, not obscure, her firm breasts and the flare of her hips.

Had he the heart, he might have forced her back into her white man’s dress, but each time he considered doing it, she would bend, or walk or sit, and he would be drawn again to look at her; to admire her. And somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to hide all that beauty from his view.

In truth, to his own way of thinking, she now looked more feminine than she had ever done in the past.

He really should have sent her home, he thought again, for the umpteenth time, but it was not within the Indian ethic to squash the desires of its women or its children. And both she and Strikes Two had wanted so much to accompany this party. Such courage deserved reward, not reprimand.

But there were times…

He continued to watch her as she struggled with the fire.

He arose, intent upon helping her, since he
did
wish to eat at some point this evening. He had just started down the incline toward her when he stopped, completely taken by surprise.

Strikes Two, carefully glancing around him as he approached Shines Like Moonlight, brought a smoldering stick to her.

He said, his voice very low,
“K-Ikata-yaak-ohkottsspommo-o-hpa?
Can I help you?” and he made signs at her so that she understood.

So, thought White Eagle, the boy wishes to have his meal sometime this night too.

Shines Like Moonlight smiled at the youth, and the lad gave her back such a huge grin, White Eagle was left with no doubt as to the boy’s affections. As soon as she took the proffered stick, the young man quickly sped on his way.

White Eagle crossed his arms over his chest and waited, watching to see if Shines Like Moonlight could now start the fire.

But it was just not to be.

Even with the smoldering stick, she could not get the other timber to burn, and he smiled as he watched her throw green grass onto the stick.

How many times would he have to tell her that one used dry grass?

His smile turned to a broad grin and he was ready to go to her aid, once again, when he stopped perfectly still. One of his warriors had come upon her and, carefully glancing around him to ensure no one watched, this warrior bent down to give her heaps of dry grass and kindling, using his hands and an old cloth to fan the flames into a healthy blaze.

He said,
“Nitsiitotaa,
I make fire,” using signs to tell her what he said.

The warrior then traded a smile with Shines Like Moonlight, and quickly, as though he were afraid of being caught helping her, the warrior sprinted away.

White Eagle stood dumbfounded. Never had he seen a warrior stoop to do such a thing for a woman. Not in camp, and especially not on the warpath.

He shook his head, completely baffled. But perhaps it was not so unusual…not if this warrior, too, wanted a meal yet this evening.

Now, White Eagle spied on her as she attempted to construct a framework of sticks that could hold, spitlike, some buffalo ribs. But again, she couldn’t manage the task. Each time she set the poles up straight, they fell over, being much too weak to support the weight of the ribs, though each time she caught the meat before it hit the ground. Five times she set them up; five times they fell over.

White Eagle smiled, watching her, deciding she provided welcome entertainment.

He would go and help her, of course, and he began to make his way down to her once more, when one of his other warriors came upon her, and saying,
“Nitsspommihtaa,
I will assist,” this warrior showed her how to set up the sticks and weigh them down, helping her to put the buffalo ribs over the fire.

White Eagle shook his head. He knew his warriors understood that she needed to learn about these things, but never had he thought any of them would go out of their way to help her.

Perhaps it was because she tried so hard and failed so miserably at all of her assigned tasks. Or perhaps they just wanted a meal that was palatable enough to sit well on the stomach, White Eagle thought with amusement as he recalled her cooking attempts.

It made sense. In true Indian fashion, no one commented on the unappetizing food set before them, but ate it all with relish, lest they offend their host. However, it was only to be supposed that the men might try to improve upon her skills.

Shaking his head, White Eagle decided she would be fine making their evening meal and, treading down the incline in the direction of their camp, he began the lengthy task of planning their raid upon the Assiniboin.

Chapter Twenty

He’d been wrong about her ability to make a meal. He could see that now.

But how could he have known that Shines Like Moonlight would cook the ribs until they resembled rawhide rather than meat? How could he have known that buffalo could be so tough, or taste so bad?

Still, with gallant courtesy, each warrior did justice to the meal, not leaving a single morsel uneaten.

White Eagle sat on the outskirts of camp, looking in at the temporary shelters which had been made of willows and grass, wondering what he was going to do with Shines Like Moonlight.

“Ann-wa kit-ohkiimaan-wa?
Where is your wife?”

Startled, White Eagle glanced up to find Long Arrow, one of his best warriors, standing beside him. It was not often that another stole upon him, surprising him, but White Eagle had been too lost in thought to notice the other man’s movement. And, too, he was unused to anyone referring to Shines Like Moonlight as his wife.

The warrior squatted down beside him, as White Eagle replied, “My
wife,”
he emphasized the word, “is trying to mend our moccasins.”

“Oh, no,
haiya,”
offered Long Arrow, “you did not give her any of my things to attend to, did you?”

White Eagle shook his head. “She is only patching those things which were brought to her.”

The other man heaved a sigh of relief, and asked,
“Tsa niit-a’p’taki-waatisksi?
How is she doing with the work?”

White Eagle shrugged. “She has not yet mastered the skills of our women, I do not think.”

Long Arrow nodded his head in agreement.
“Nitakkaawa,
my friend, do not take offense to what I have to say, but I believe that what you speak is true. We have been thinking that maybe it would be better if we did our own cooking and mending for the rest of our journey. Is there anything else that she could tend to that would not upset our…digestion so much…or hurt our feet?”

White Eagle chuckled for all that he knew the seriousness of the question. After a while he said, “I do not take offense to what you say. I know how difficult it has become. I had thought that she might take more readily to these things than she has. To tell you the truth, I do not believe she has ever had to cook for other people, until now.”

Long Arrow laughed. “Do you only think this, my friend? I have become quite certain of it. But take heart. Soon we will be in enemy country, and once we reach our war lodge, the warriors will go about their usual tasks of drying and storing fresh meat, while our scouts are sent out to find the enemy. I do not see that there will be much there that she can do to cause us trouble. Do you not think so?”

White Eagle grimaced. “One cannot imagine it, and yet…”

Long Arrow placed his hand upon White Eagle’s shoulder. “As soon as the cooking can be turned over to the rest of us, I think it will bode better for all. And I am certain you can find something else for her to do.”

“Humph!” said White Eagle. “You are right. There must be something else she can do.” He sighed. “I will have to discover what that is.”

“Then you will no longer require her to cook for us?”

“Saa,
no.”

Long Arrow breathed out deeply and, getting to his feet, he murmured, “It is a good thing that you have decided. It is a good thing, indeed.”

With this said, Long Arrow clapped White Eagle on the shoulder and paced quietly away.

White Eagle glanced over toward the shelter that he had erected for himself and Shines Like Moonlight. He knew that she sat quietly inside there, trying her best to mend the moccasins which had been given to her.

That she usually tore them only went to show the extreme patience of a people who did not believe in unduly criticizing another.

Though White Eagle wondered about
her
society, a people who did not appear to teach their women the care and handling of a household, he would not offer any complaint.

Such was not the Indian way.

He took in a deep breath, knowing he had best talk to her before any further damage was done to their possessions.

This decided, he quietly rose from where he had been sitting and, stretching out his legs, he made his way to their shelter.

“I don’t believe I was meant to do this kind of work, White Eagle. I don’t seem to do it well.”

White Eagle gave Shines Like Moonlight a look that was sympathetic, as well as incredulous. He had seated himself next to her while she attempted to mend some moccasins, a bone needle having been brought by the others for needed repairs. In her hands, the leather appeared as mere strips of rags, rather than footwear.

He repressed a smile. “Perhaps I will have to take another wife to help you.”

She sent him a glance filled with malice.

He continued, wide-eyed, “I am only trying to be helpful.”

“Mayhap you try too hard.”

He grinned. “Tomorrow, we will be coming into the territory of our enemy, and we will locate one of our war lodges. Then you will not be required to cook or to mend our clothing so much.”

“I won’t? Why will I not?”

“Because we will need to obtain a supply of food and clothing before we attack our enemy. These things are the concern of all our men and all will contribute to their construction and upkeep.”

“Oh,” she said, “then no one is complaining about me?”

He had to keep himself from smiling. “Many are proud of all you are doing to try to help us, but once we reach the war lodge, every man must apply himself to securing all the supplies that we need.”

She heaved out a sigh of relief. “I am trying.”

“Aa,
yes,” he said, “I know. And there is not a warrior in this camp that does not…appreciate your efforts. But soon it will be the duty of all to help.”