Wild Innocence (29 page)

John Dempsey frowned as he examined his eldest daughter. “How long have you had this pain, Amelia?”

“A little while,” she said in a weak voice.

“How little?” Rachel asked.

Amelia looked sheepish. “About a week.”

“A week!” Daniel exclaimed.

“Well, the pain was barely a twinge at first. I thought it was nothing.”

“Oh, Amelia,” Rachel said. “And you went to the village with us ...” She studied her brother-in-law with sympathy. He was rightfully upset. When she glanced toward Amelia, her sympathy went to her sister. Amelia looked more than upset. She looked alarmed and guilty, and ill.

“Now, don't get excited,” John said. “I'm sure Amelia and the baby will be just fine.”

Amelia brightened. “You are?”

He nodded. “That is, if you follow my instructions carefully.”

“What instructions, John?” Daniel asked.

“She needs to rest,” the doctor said. “No lifting, bending, working, cooking.”

“No cooking!” Amelia cried. “Am I to be an invalid for four months!”

Her father scowled at her. “If you would let me finish ...”

Blushing, she apologized.

“Go on, Father,” Rachel urged. “Amelia is understandably anxious.” She sensed tension between husband and wife, and felt bad for them. She could imagine how much Daniel's anger upset Amelia.

John Dempsey's expression softened. “I know.” He helped his daughter to sit up on the examining table.

“Amelia, you know I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't think it important.”

“I know,” she said, tears gathering in her brown eyes. “It's my fault, isn't it?”

“It's no one's fault but nature's, daughter,” he said.

“Father, how long does Amelia need to rest?”

“We'll try it for a few weeks first. See if her resting will alleviate the pain. If it does, then she can begin to move around a bit more. I may even allow her to cook, as long as she continues to avoid lifting.”

“But I'll be useless!” Amelia wailed.

“Useless?” John said in a voice that scolded slightly. “Amelia, your job right now is to see that your baby gets into this world healthy and safe. Believe me, you'll be busy enough after he's born. Then, you'll wish for a few minutes' peace ...”

“What will we do? Daniel has so much to do at the shop—” She halted as she began to cry. Daniel was there beside her immediately, putting his arms around her. He crooned to her that they would manage, that everything would be all right.

Rachel grabbed hold of her father's arm and drew him aside to speak privately. “Father, you've managed well enough without me these last days, haven't you?”

“Why, yes, daughter, of course. Although I did miss you,” he added with a smile.

“I'd like to go to Amelia's for as long as she needs me.”

“That's a very generous offer, Rachel,” her father began.

“I can cook and clean and do whatever needs to be done,” she said. “And if you'd like, I can come here for a couple of hours a week to straighten the infirmary.”

John regarded his youngest with a gentle smile. “You've grown up to be quite a wonderful woman, Rachel Dempsey.” His eyes glistened with emotion.

Rachel hugged him. “I love you, too, Father.” She blinked against tears as well. “Now we just have to convince Daniel.”

“Let me handle it,” her father said. His eyes twinkled.

“Daniel,” he said. “Rachel would like to come stay with you to help out.”

“Yes, Daniel. I know you think I'm incapable ...”

Daniel looked taken aback. “Rachel, I never thought that.”

“You didn't?” she said, pleased. She knew they had reached past the stage of friendship to becoming family, but she hadn't known how he felt about her abilities.

He nodded. “I may have misjudged you when you first came. Rachel, I've seen how hard you've worked at the mission and at the village. And you've come to our house and helped Amelia many times.”

“Then you feel I can handle things?”

He frowned. “It's not a question of whether I feel you can handle the work. I know you can. But it's not fair to you ... or to your father.”

“I've agreed to it, Daniel.” John Dempsey said.

“I'll make Amelia rest,” she reasoned. She flashed her sister a mischievous grin. “I've always wanted to be the one in control.”

“Rachel!” Amelia's gasp of outrage made everyone chuckle.

“Done!” Daniel said.

“Excellent!” Rachel and John said simultaneously. “Don't I have any say in the matter?” Amelia complained.

“Absolutely none!” the three other occupants of the room chorused.

Amelia smiled. “Good.” And they all stared at her.

Rachel smiled knowingly. Her sister was a wise, subtle, and persuasive woman who knew how to get just what she wanted.

The Ojibwa hunters returned to the village, and there was a celebration of thanksgiving for a successful hunt. Black Hawk stood on the fringe of the gathering and watched Big-Cat-with-Broken-Paw address his people. The
Midewiwin,
the society of medicine men of the tribe, waited behind their leader in their special ceremonial dress. When the chief was done, the
Midewiwin
would sing their sacred songs, heal the sick, and tell stories of the
Anishinaabe.

Soon, the Ojibwa would leave this place and venture to their winter village. Black Hawk wasn't ready to leave this place. He wanted to stay. His memories of this village were good, but he knew he would have to move on.

The weather had turned cool, and everyone had dressed warmly in buckskins, furs, and woolen clothing. Black Hawk tugged up the woolen blanket about his shoulders and gazed at the gathering from a distance.

“I thought you might be hungry,” Spring Blossom said as she approached with a plate.

Black Hawk smiled as he accepted the meal.
“Miigwech.”

His sister gestured for him to sit, and the two found a rush mat on the ground and sat next to each other.

“You are not hungry?” Black Hawk asked. He readjusted his blanket before he took a bite of food.

“I will eat later,” she said. “I would like to talk with you first.”

Her tone bothered him. He glanced at her with concern. “Is something wrong, my sister?”

“Dan-yel was here in our village.”

Black Hawk stopped eating. “Dan-yel?”

Spring Blossom nodded. “And Little Flower and Tree-That-Will-Not-Bend.”

“They did not stay to see me.” His brow furrowed.

“They went home. Tree-That-Will-Not-Bend did not feel well.” Her expression was troubled. “It was the babe.”

Black Hawk frowned. “When did they leave?” He wondered if Amelia and the baby were all right. He felt concern for his friend's family.

“They left yesterday. We have heard nothing, but it is too soon. Still, I worry that something terrible has happened.” Tree-That-Will-Not-Bend had become a good friend to her, as had her sister Rachel, Ripple-on-the-Water.

“No one has gone to the trading post to find out?” he asked.

Spring Blossom shook her dark head. “There has not been time. Our people have been busy preparing to leave our summer village. I thought that you could go.”

Black Hawk felt a burning in his stomach as he studied his sister. “When do we leave this place?”

“Big-Cat-with-Broken-Paw wishes to leave when the sun rises twice more to brighten the day sky.”

“Two days,” Black Hawk murmured. “I shall go to Dan-yel tomorrow. If I do not return before our people leave, I will meet you in the forest of our winters.”

Spring Blossom nodded. “Black Hawk?” she said when he started to leave. “Rachel Dempsey was here, in our village, with them.”

 

 

“Sit down, Amelia,” Rachel scolded as she carried in a basket of wet laundry. She proceeded to hang clothes over a rope strung across the width of the room near the heat of the stove. “You're not to do anything, Amelia. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

Amelia sighed with frustration and sat on the sofa in the great room. “I hate this!” She looked longingly at Rachel as her sister draped a wet shirt over the clothesline. “I'm not used to being idle.”

“Well, get used to it,” Rachel said. “It's for your own good—you and your baby.” She bent and pulled a pair of pantalets from the basket.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Amelia regarded her with a scowl.

“Actually, I enjoy helping you. I'm not enjoying your surly mood.”

“Surly!” Amelia exclaimed.

Rachel nodded, then laughed. “Surly,” she repeated. “Surly. Bossy. Rude and irascible.” There was a teasing twinkle in her eyes as she spoke.

A reluctant grin warmed Amelia's expression. “Oh, you!”

“How does it feel to be the little sister?” Rachel said.

Amelia frowned. “Is that how I make you feel ... incapable?”

Rachel regarded her sister with alarm. “Amelia, surely you don't feel that way! You may be surly, but you are not incapable and ineffectual.”

She set down a wet shirt and approached. “You're going to be a mother, Amelia. Think about it! A mother!” She sat down beside her sister and took her hand. “You have a tiny baby growing inside of you. It's so magical! You've created a little life, and now you're taking care of it.”

Rachel's eyes glistened as she stood and went back to the clothes. “You've made life, Amelia. How can you feel useless?” Her voice softened. “You've made a baby!”

Amelia was silent, but Rachel didn't look at her as she hung clothes. She wanted a child, but without Black Hawk she'd never have one. She'd never love or marry another.

“I'm sorry,” Amelia said huskily. “I know I've been unreasonable—”

Rachel draped the last garment over the line, then faced her sister. “You're not unreasonable, Amelia,” she said seriously. “You're surly.” She grinned as she headed toward the kitchen.

“Oh, you!” Amelia laughed.

“Ready for dinner?”

“Yes, of course!” her sister called back.

Rachel stuck her head through the doorway. “You are enjoying one thing.” When her sister looked at her questioningly, she said, “Eating for two.” She ducked out as a pillow came flying in her direction.

Amelia had a soft smile on her face as she stared into the fireplace. It was good for her to have Rachel here. She suspected that it was good for Rachel, too. Her sister hadn't been happy since leaving the village after her lengthy stay, and Amelia knew it was because of Black Hawk.

“Sandwiches all right?” Rachel shouted from the other room.

“Fine!” Amelia called back. She felt a twinge in her stomach. Frowning, she rubbed the area of the pain.

A shriek from the kitchen had her rising to her feet. “Rachel?” she yelled. “What's wrong?”

Seconds later, Rachel came out from the back room, her face white, one hand holding a towel wrapped around the other one. Blood seeped through the cloth, making a red stain.

“Rachel!” Amelia cried as she rushed to her sister's side. “What happened? What did you do to your hand?”

Rachel gave her a wan smile. “I cut it while I was slicing bread,” she said weakly. “The knife slipped.” She swayed on her feet, looking ill.

“You need to see Father,” Amelia said.

“I'll be all right.”

But then her pallor worsened, and Amelia helped her to sit at the dining table. “You stay still, and I'll tell Daniel.”

Rachel had tears in her eyes when she looked up. “I'm sorry,” she said, looking miserable. “I'm supposed to be taking care of you.”

Amelia smiled as she touched her sister's cheek. “Relax, Rachel.” Her smile vanished as she noted her sister's pallor.

“You'd better lie down before you fall down,” she said. She offered to help her sister up, but Rachel, conscious of the reason for her stay, refused Amelia's help.

“I can walk,” she said, stumbling but managing to right herself.

Watching her, Amelia bit her lip. She stayed in the room until she saw with relief that Rachel had reached the sofa without mishap. “I'll be right back,” Amelia then told her.

Rachel nodded silently.

Her heart pounding with fear, Amelia hurried to find her husband at his smithy next door.

 

 

Miriam heard the door to the infirmary waiting room open and shut. She was in the surgery. “Hello,” she called. “Can I help you?” She wandered toward the front room.

“Hello,” a deep male voice answered. A man came to the doorway. “I'm looking for Rachel Dempsey,” he said. “Is she here?”

Startled by his good looks, Miriam smiled. “I'm sorry, but no. She's not here. She's at her sister's.” She frowned. “Are you a friend of hers?”

“Yes, I am.” Jordan smiled pleasantly. “She's expecting me. I've come all the way from Baltimore to see her.”

She frowned. “You might like to wait here for her ... unless you'd like to go to her sister's. Dr. Dempsey has just been summoned to the Traherns. Rachel cut herself with a kitchen knife.”

The man turned white. “Good God,” he said. “Will you tell me how to get there?”

Miriam nodded and gave him directions. “Tell her I was asking about her,” she told him.

Jordan Sinclair nodded and left the infirmary. Within minutes, he was heading toward the trading post in a wagon he'd borrowed from a mission resident.

 

 

Black Hawk arrived at the infirmary by mid-afternoon. He hesitated before entering the waiting area. He frowned. Where was everyone? Where were Dr. Dempsey and Rachel?

“Hel-lo!” he called. “Is anyone here?”

“May I help you?” A young woman came out of the sickroom. Her eyes brightened when she saw him. “Black Hawk!”

“Aaniin,
Miriam. I have come to see Tree-That-Will-Not-Bend.”

“Amelia is not here, Black Hawk. Dr. Dempsey and Rachel aren't here either. They're all at the Traherns. It seems Rachel's had an accident.”

“An accident?” His blood froze.

“She's hurt herself with a kitchen knife. Daniel came for the doctor a little while ago.”

“Rach-el is hurt?”

“I'm afraid so,” she said. “I don't know how badly, but Daniel seemed upset. You may want to go there.”

“Miigwech, ”
he said.

As Black Hawk ran down the road that led to the trading post, his thoughts raced with concern for Rachel. She was still here. Where was Jordan?

I must see her,
he thought. He wanted to see Daniel's wife, and he needed to see Rachel.

He'd tried without success to forget her. His dreams, his thoughts, were filled with her image. He had to see her now that he knew she was here. Why had she come to his village?

Black Hawk came upon a white man stopped along the road. With the recent rain, the land was wet and muddy. He had run his wagon off the road, and was struggling to get the wheels unstuck from the mud.

He halted when he recognized the man who'd been kissing Rachel when Black Hawk had seen her last.

“You!” Jordan called. “Can you help me?”

Black Hawk hurried over to help. “I will push and you pull,” he suggested.

Jordan eyed Black Hawk up and down as if he were someone beneath him. “I thought I'd sit on the wagon and steer.”

The Ojibwa brave narrowed his gaze. “I will push and you pull,” he repeated.

It looked as if Jordan was going to argue. Black Hawk stared at him. “Pull,” the brave said.

With a heavy sigh of resignation, Jordan went to the horse's head. Grabbing the reins, he urged the animal to pull. The wheels of the wagon spun, sending mud flying.

Jordan released the reins and glared at Black Hawk. “This isn't working. Can't you think of anything better? I'm in a hurry.”

“Pull,” Black Hawk said.

Jordan picked up the reins, and Black Hawk pushed, anger at the man giving him added strength. The wheels spun, but slowly the vehicle started to move.

“It's moving!” Jordan cried.

Black Hawk pushed. “Pull,” he ordered.

The wagon rocked, and then was finally free. Jordan had trouble, but finally was able to control the horse.

Jordan stared at Black Hawk with a scowl. “What are you doing on this road?”

“You are Rach-el's friend?”

“You're the second one to ask me that question,” Jordan complained. “Yes, yes, I'm her friend. I'm more than her friend.”

“How is she?” Black Hawk demanded. “How bad was she hurt?”

The white man narrowed his gaze. “Who are you to ask after Rachel?”

“I, too, am Rachel's friend. My name is Black-Hawk-Who-Hunts-at-Dawn. I am here to see Rachel.”

“There's no need for you to see her, Mr. Black Hawk,” Jordan said. “I'll see to Rachel.” He paused. “She and I are to be married.”

Black Hawk tensed. Rachel was going to marry this man. It didn't matter, he thought. He still wanted to see her. “I will see her. I will see her sister.”

“Amelia?” Jordan asked, as if he knew Rachel's sister well.

“Yes, Amelia.”

“Oh,” he said. “You want to see both sisters. Well, I suppose I can't stop you from going. But I must insist you stay outside until I'm sure Rachel is well enough to see you.”

The man gestured toward the wagon. “Climb on, Mr. Hawk. You helped me get this horrible conveyance unstuck from the mud. You might as well ride in it.”

A muscle twitched along Black Hawk's jaw, but he climbed up in the vehicle, anxious to get to Rachel.

The man chattered annoyingly during the short trip to the trading post. Black Hawk hopped off the vehicle before it had stopped.

“Wait,” Jordan said. “I said I will see her first!”

Although he wanted to ignore the man and go inside, he waited while Jordan climbed the porch steps and then disappeared inside the cabin.

The door to the smithy next door opened and his friend Daniel came out of the building. “Black Hawk!” He regarded the brave with a thin veil of hostility.

Puzzled by his friend's behavior, Black Hawk approached. “How is Rach-el? How is Tree-That-Will-Not-Bend?” he asked.