Wild Splendor (27 page)

Harold, scalped.

Chief Four Fingers, scalped.

All of the others, scalped.

“No one survived the massacre, soldiers and Kiowa alike,” Lieutenant Nelson said somberly as he rode to Kit's side. “Who do you think did it? Could Sage have done this to stop Harold and the Kiowa from finding his new stronghold?”

Kit removed a handkerchief from his back breeches pocket. He gave his brow a nervous swipe and turned his horse around so that he would not have to see the dead bodies again, with the flies buzzing over them and the lizards scampering around in the sand close by.

Kit glanced up into the heavens at the buzzards circling in the sky. He shivered, then glared at the soldier. “I've known Sage for many years,” he said flatly. “The man that I have always known and admired could never be responsible for this heartless act. So don't let me ever hear you suggest that he was again. This is the work of renegades, surely the same ones who've been slaughtering innocent settlers. It seems we should've concentrated more on finding them instead of running the Navaho from their land.”

Kit gave Harold only another fleeting glance, then turned quickly away. “Lieutenant Nelson, those men must be returned to the fort for proper burial,” he said somberly. “See to it.”

He swung his horse around and rode away, his head hanging low.

Chapter 32

Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forbore.

—E
LIZABETH
B
ARRETT
B
ROWNING

 

 

Like a desert mirage, the canyon spread an emerald counterpane among the arid vastness. Irrigated by springs that swelled to a river, the valley bloomed with lofty cottonwoods and willows. In the distance, twin sandstone pinnacles rose into the sky.

Sage reined in beside Leonida's horse and reached for Runner, bringing him over onto his lap and smiling at his wife. “This is your new home,” he said proudly. “Was not it worth waiting for?”

“It is so lovely,” Leonida sighed. “It is so perfect.”

The music of the river could be heard as it rippled beneath limestone cliffs. Lizards and chipmunks scampered to and fro, the inhabitants of this paradise.

“Look at the little animals,” Runner squealed as a chipmunk dashed toward Sage's horse, then stopped to peer up at humans, obviously for the first time. “Can I have him? Can he be my pet?”

Sage laughed throatily as he slipped Runner from his lap onto the ground near the chipmunk, surprised when the animal did not run away. “I started to say that I doubted if it would let you come near,” he said. “But it seems, Runner, that you may have found a friend.”

“It apparently doesn't know to fear humans,” Leonida said, watching Runner bend to the ground and scoop the chipmunk up into his hands.

When Runner held the animal close to his face, the chipmunk emitted a strange, soft barking sound, yet still did not try to escape. It locked eyes with Runner, fast friends, it did seem.

Her back aching, Leonida placed her hands at her waist, stretched, and groaned.

Sage saw her discomfort and slid quickly from his saddle and helped her to the ground. “The ride was long and hard,” he said. “But it was necessary. I still do not altogether trust Kit Carson. I especially don't trust Harold Porter. Once he hears that you are my wife, he will hate me with a vengeance. He will stop at nothing, I am sure, to see me dead.”

“I wish I had never met that man,” Leonida said, moving into Sage's embrace. Over her shoulder she was watching everyone dismount. She could tell that, as she was, they were all in awe of this place that was now to be their home.

She eased out of Sage's arms and with him watched the activity of the people. The men were unloading supplies from their horses. The women were herding the smaller children into the shade, telling them to stay out of the way while the hogans were being built. The older children began scampering around, searching for the proper trees from which bark would be taken to cover the hogans. The men were inspecting the trees, from which the frames of the hogans would be made.

“I must join the men in preparing the wood and bark for the hogans,” Sage said, turning apologetically to Leonida. He frowned, noticing how pale she looked, with dark rings beneath her eyes. And he had not failed to see her keeping herself from retching these past couple of days. He wondered what she could have eaten to cause her to be ill. They had eaten the same food, and he had felt nothing akin to nausea. He would not allow himself to think that she was in her first stages of prairie fever. That possibility pained him too deeply.

“You rest beneath the trees with the children,” Sage flatly ordered Leonida.

“While the other women do my part?” she said, gasping at the thought. “Never.”

She worked her fingers through her hair, combing out the tangles from the windy ride on the horse. She ran her fingers down the front of her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles from sitting in the saddle so long.

“The saddle was so very uncomfortable,” she complained. “So hard. So narrow.”

“I will soon remedy that,” Sage said. “Soon you will have your own saddle, one that will fit your every contour.”

“I appreciate the thought, darling, but I hope I never need to ride a horse ever again.”

“Horses are also rode for pleasure,” Sage said, smiling down at her.

Leonida flinched when another wave of nausea swam through her. Cold perspiration covered her arms and face as she fought back the urge to retch again. Now she was almost certain that she was pregnant. She smiled sheepishly up at Sage; she had not yet told him.

She was going to tell him tonight.

“There it was again,” Sage growled, gently gripping her shoulders with his fingers. “For a moment you looked ill again. You should not work with the women. You must rest.”

Leonida placed a hand on her abdomen, thinking that perhaps he was right. She had seen death claim two of her best friends. Her mother had suffered two miscarriages. Leonida did not want to experience the same loss. She wanted this baby. She wanted to share this child with Sage and Runner. They would be such a happy family.

“All right,” Leonida said. “I won't help build the hogans. But I will help prepare the food for everyone. I am certainly strong enough to cook.”

Her willingness to give up the fight to help with the manual labor so easily surprised Sage. He raised an eyebrow as he lowered his hands from her and lifted her chin up so that she was forced to look him square in the eye.

“Do you have anything to tell me?” he asked.

“Like what?” Leonida said, her eyes innocently wide, yet wondering if he suspected already the miraculous changes happening within her body.

“You backed away from an argument too easily,” Sage said. “That is not like you. Tell me why. Is it because you are more ill than you allow me to see? I must know if you are. I will have the singer sing over you, to make you well.”

Leonida stiffened at the thought of being “sung” over, having seen how little it had helped Pure Blossom. The thought of her possibly ever needing a true doctor filled her with foreboding. And when she started with her labor pains, what if a doctor was needed to help with the birthing? That, as well as her worry about losing the child, frightened her.

“Darling, I'm fine,” Leonida reassured. She was thankful for Runner's interference when he began tugging on her skirt, gazing up at her with that sweet pleading that she had grown to know so well.

“What is it, sweetie?” Leonida asked, giving Sage a sidewise glance as he turned and walked away, headed for his Navaho warriors, who were already busy chopping and digging, many of the women working alongside them.

“Can I make a cage for my animal?” Runner asked, hugging the little chipmunk to his chest. “I'm afraid he'll run away.”

Leonida knelt down on a knee before him. “Runner, let's not put him in a cage,” she murmured. “That would be cruel.” She placed a gentle hand to his smooth cheek. “You've seen how the Navaho have been threatened by imprisonment at a reservation, haven't you?”

“Yes,” Runner said, tilting his head to one side.

“And you've seen how they have fled to a new land, to keep from having to go to live on the reservation?” Leonida continued.

“Yes . . .” Runner murmured.

“Well, darling, it's almost the same with this tiny animal,” Leonida said, gazing down at the chipmunk that sat trustingly in Runner's hand. “He would not want to be caged any more than the Navaho do.”

“But if I let him go, he'll run away,” Runner whined.

“If that's what he wants, then you should let him,” Leonida said, patting Runner on the head. “If he wants to be a friend to you, he won't go far.”

Runner gazed down at the chipmunk, then at his Navaho friends skipping and playing, and then down again at his animal friend.

Leonida saw that Runner was being torn with choices; she knew he wanted to join his friends at play, yet he feared losing his animal friend if he set it free.

“Runner, you know what's best,” she said.

“Yes, I know,” Runner mumbled, then opened his arms and hands and allowed the chipmunk to scamper free. “He didn't want to be friends after all.”

Leonida pulled Runner into her arms and gave him a gentle hug. “Go and play with your human friends,” she teased, playfully smacking his little bottom. “Perhaps your chipmunk will return soon.”

Runner nodded and rushed away, quickly joining his friends. Leonida watched, proud of this young man who was being raised as her son. She knew that Carole would be just as proud.

Placing her hands at the small of her back, she stood up and watched Runner awhile longer. Then her gaze moved to Sage. She smiled to herself, loving him so much, and wanting so much for him. But her smile faded when she thought about the news that Kit Carson had taken to Harold. He was not the sort of man who took to being scorned so easily.

Forcing him from her mind since she wanted to enjoy having finally arrived where her husband's stronghold was to be established, Leonida hurried toward the women, who were building a great outdoor fire and taking food supplies from their travel bags to prepare the evening meal. She knew that everyone was already tired from the long journey, but by nightfall they would be not only worn out but starved as well. She wanted to be there to assist in at least this small way.

The day passed quickly as the people built one Hogan after another on a pretty piece of land overlooking the river. Because they were built of forked sticks, bark and mud, some of the Navaho called their homes
atchideezahis,
or pointed houses. Gay Heart explained to Leonida how the bark was attached to the frame to be strengthened later with mud that would dry as hard as brick.

As with the hogans on the mountain, all of the doors faced east to greet the rising Father Sun.

The afternoon was waning now. The sun was low, the shadowed sides of the cliffs becoming deep pools of violet seeping out across the land. The sunset was bringing the drab clay bluffs to life. A soft breeze was making the cottonwood leaves sing and whisper. The horses were grazing close by, munching on the watercress that fringed the bank of the stream.

Shaded by a cottonwood, Leonida sliced the flatbread that she had made from wheat flour, as cabbage, beans, corn, and squash simmered over the fire in the center of what was quickly looking like a village.

As the people dispersed after the long day's work to go to the river to be refreshed, Leonida gazed slowly around. The word “paradise” did describe this place well, she thought. A rich, deep green was usually not a part of the desert landscape, but Sage had known the art of finding it, for there it was, a perfect shelter for his people in the deep canyon. In this strip of green could be grown the three sister crops, corn, squash, and beans, and whatever else the people's hearts desired. They could finally plant their revered peach seeds that they had saved after eating the last of the peaches from the other stronghold. In time even sheep would be acquired and would multiply in the wide green pastures.

Sage knelt down beside her, his stomach rumbling as he got a whiff of the food cooking over the fire. He accepted the piece of bread that Leonida handed to him.

Then he turned and admired the handiwork of his people. “And so the new Navaho village takes shape,” he said proudly. He gazed at Leonida. “Is not it all a fine piece of work done by my people?”

Leonida looked at the many hogans standing like tall, pointed tents, sorting out with her eyes the one that Sage had labored so hard over through the long, hot hours of the day. “They are beautiful,” she said, sighing. She looked up at Sage. “I'm so glad we're finally here. I hope we have no more problems, Sage. It would be wonderful to awaken each morning without fearing what the day brings us. I want this so much for you. You deserve it. Your people deserve it.”

“I have no choice but to believe that Kit Carson is a man of his word and will see to it that we are left in peace,” Sage said. He turned and smiled as his people began gathering around the outdoor fire, their platters already being filled with the delectable-smelling food.

He turned to Leonida and offered her a hand. She got to her feet, then picked up her large platter of sliced bread to add to the feast. After setting this among the other bowls of steaming food, she searched for Runner. When she found him asleep beneath a tree, the chipmunk scampering around him, sniffing, her heart went out to the child. Runner had worn himself out playing. And his new playmate had returned.

She decided against waking Runner up just yet. The food would be there into the long, shadowed hours of night. There were no signs now that the people were tired. They were enjoying themselves, a celebration seemingly in its first stages.

Now certain that she was eating for two, Leonida sat beside Sage and ate ravenously. All day she had refrained from picking at the food that she had helped prepare. She knew that she must begin now to watch what she ate, and how much. She did not want to become so large that it would be difficult for her to have her baby. Especially out here, where the birthing of her child depended so much on her and how she prepared herself for it.

She gave Sage a glance, smiling. She could hardly wait to tell him her suspicions. Would it not add to the joy that was showing on his face as he kept looking around at his people, who were finally enjoying life, with hopes aplenty for the future?

Sage felt her eyes on him. He turned and studied her expression, seeing something about it that seemed different. She was harboring a pleasant secret, one that he hoped she would share with him. “You look as though you have something to say to Sage, yet not,” he finally said. He placed a hand on her cheek, smiling as she leaned her face into his palm. “Do you wish to tell me what it is, or does your husband have to continue wondering?”

Leonida glanced around her, then moved closer to Sage. “Not now,” she whispered. “Later. I promise I will tell you later.”