Brave Beginnings (2 page)

Julia’s throat grew dry. She was reading more
into that look than she ought to. After all this time and the way
she rejected his proposal, he couldn’t possibly consider her for
courting.

“Well, we’d be delighted to have your
company,” Erin said, most likely oblivious to Julia’s discomfort.
“Give us another week to unpack and come by next Friday at six for
supper.”

He smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

And so was Erin, if Julia accurately
understood the thrilled expression on her face. Leave it to her
aunt to be overly enthusiastic about everything. Julia nodded a
polite good-bye to Ernest before she followed her aunt out of the
bank.

She shouldn’t begrudge her aunt’s cheerful
nature, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to see Ernest again. It was
one thing to bump into him. That would limit their conversations to
a few minutes. But a supper... That would be hours. What woman
wanted a man she’d rejected to spend that much time in her house?
It was due to be an awkward night, even if he didn’t seem to hold
any ill will toward her.

“Wasn’t it nice to see a familiar face?” Erin
asked as they strolled down the sidewalk.

“Your brother and his wife live here,” Julia
replied.

“True, but they moved here as soon as they
married, and that was a good thirty years ago. I hardly recognized
him just now. But I remember Ernest. I always liked him.”

A smile tugged at Julia’s lips. “You like
everyone.”

She seemed to think about it and finally
nodded. “You have a point.”

They paused at the end of the sidewalk to
wait for a horse and buggy to pass before they crossed the street.
Once they reached the other sidewalk, her aunt put her hand on
Julia’s arm.

“I want to send your brother a letter to let
him know we’re here,” Erin explained. “Let’s stop by the post
office.”

Seeing no reason to object, Julia traveled
with her down the block until they reached the building and entered
it. When she realized her aunt was writing about them going to the
tribe, Julia clutched her arm. “No,” she whispered. “Have him and
Woape come here.”

Erin frowned. “Why? It’s easier for us to
travel than for them. They have a child to worry about.”

“I know, but...” That was all she needed. Two
men from her past to deal with! She couldn’t go back to that tribe,
not after the way things ended with Chogan. Didn’t her aunt realize
how uncomfortable all of this was for her? First Ernest and now
this? Scrambling for a good, solid reason, she said, “Bismarck is
not that far, and they know the area better than we do.”

“I’ll ask what he prefers,” Erin relented and
turned back to the piece of paper in front of her.

Julia knew that was as much as she could
expect from her aunt, so she released her grip and sighed. Even if
Gary asked for them to go there, she wouldn’t. The knot twisted in
her gut. If she knew Ernest was going to be here, she wouldn’t have
moved to Bismarck. She knew Chogan would be close by but figured as
long as she never ventured to the Mandan tribe, she’d be fine. The
world, it seemed, was way too small, and she had a nagging
suspicion that parts of her past were going to return and demand
she settle things once and for all.

~~********~~

Chogan picked up a few buffalo bones from the
pile at the center of the lodge and took his knife so he could make
his first fish hook. Fall was coming. He could feel the chill in
the air, and he noticed the scent of autumn. The time for decision
was fast approaching, and he was no closer to making it than the
day Citlali came to him with the proposal.

He carved into the bone, careful to begin
forming the hook. For the moment, things were quiet. Most of his
family was outside, busy working and enjoying the sunny day. The
hole in the ceiling of the earth lodge allowed enough sunlight to
come inside and light the place, but he sat further from it. Across
the round dwelling, his grandmother worked on her next earthen pot.
Of all the people in his family, he liked his grandmother the most
because she understood when he needed time alone to think.

Chogan wasn’t like Citlali. For Citlali, the
decision was easy. Whatever was best for the tribe was what needed
to be done. There was no question of whether or not he wanted to do
it. Maybe last year, Chogan would have found the answer easy as
well. But then he met Julia and it changed the way he looked at
things.

The knife went too deep into the bone and
cracked it. Chogan muttered an admonishment for his carelessness
and chucked the bone to the side. He selected another one and began
working on it.

It’d been a year since Julia left. He hadn’t
seen her or heard from her. Why couldn’t he let the past go? He
wasn’t a youth, but he was acting like one. Heartbreak was for
boys, not grown men. Maybe he had trouble forgetting her because
every time he saw her brother, he saw the same golden hair that she
had.

The sound of footsteps along the dirt floor
made him look up from the rug where he sat. “Achai? Did you come to
gloat?”

His good friend gave a slight grin but
shrugged. “Don’t tell me a simple game of chunkey has you hiding in
here like a woman.”

Chogan rolled his eyes but refrained from
answering. As he leaned to retrieve another bone, his black hair
fell over his shoulder. He sat up and threw the bone at his friend.
“I don’t run off and hide. I’m making fish hooks. We need
them.”

Achai sat across from him and selected a
knife so that he could cut into his bone. “You’re hiding.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Maybe not from me, but you’re avoiding
Citlali, aren’t you?”

Chogan glanced at his grandmother who seemed
oblivious to their conversation. It was only her ability to keep
quiet about all matters that allowed Chogan to give his admission.
“Citlali knows nothing of love. Your sister was right when she said
that love matters more than blood lines.”

“Woape said that because she didn’t want to
marry Citlali, and even knowing she didn’t love him, he was still
willing to marry her. It dishonored him when she ran away,” Achai
softly admitted.

“He wasn’t dishonored. A man who can’t feel
can’t be dishonored.”

“Regardless, you’re thirty. You’re still
young enough to marry and have children. I think it’s been long
enough since your wife died. It’s time to seek another one, and
Citlali made a good suggestion.”

Chogan cringed. “I will not marry Sarita. I
don’t care what Citlali says.” Citlali might have a prominent place
in the tribe, but he wasn’t going to dictate who Chogan married.
“Not marrying is better than marrying the wrong woman.”

Achai shook his head, and Chogan couldn’t
tell if his friend was frustrated or amused.

“You will have to have more children to make
up for those I will not have,” Chogan finally said.

“Is there no woman who appeals to you?”

“No.”

“You’ve changed,” Achai commented, finishing
the sharp end of his hook. “You used to think that having children
was the most important thing we could do.”

Chogan shrugged and placed his fish hook in
the basket next to him. He picked up another bone and worked on
it.

Achai stood and placed his hook in the
basket. “Citlali wants an answer about Sarita by the end of next
month.”

Without looking up at his friend, Chogan
said, “Tell him the answer is no.”

“He’ll say to go on a fast and seek guidance
on it.”

“I don’t need anyone or anything to tell me
what is best for me.”

Achai shrugged and left the lodge.

Chogan formed the hook of the bone, noting
his frustrated movements would make him break this one too if he
wasn’t careful. He took a deep breath to settle his nerves.

“Citlali means well, but his age works
against him.”

Surprised, Chogan looked over at his
grandmother who painted the pot in her lap. “He’ll be the next
chief.”

“Perhaps” she said. “But he has much growing
up to do. When he marries, he’ll learn.”

Chogan’s immediate thought was to remind her
that Citlali was perfect and didn’t have anything to learn, but he
decided against the joke, though a smile tugged at his lips.

“Our ways will not last forever, Chogan.”

His smile departed at her somber words.

She sighed and turned her gaze to him. “The
white man takes our land, and no matter how much we give, he is not
happy. Some are friendly; others not. But peace is our way, so
we’ve mingled with them and have brought some into our tribe.”

“Like Gary.”

She nodded. “Citlali is fighting a losing
battle. Our numbers are too low and the white man’s too great. When
I was younger, I was hopeful. Now that I’m older, I can see how
things are going.”

“I’m afraid you’re right.”

He stared at the half-completed fish hook in
his hand and thought about the smallpox epidemic that struck their
tribe a little over sixty years ago. It wiped out so much of their
population, and they had yet to recover. Sadly, he was beginning to
believe they never would. His grandmother lost her parents during
that outbreak. This time when he cut into the hook, he was slow and
deliberate. His grandmother was right, and he supposed it was time
he started listening to her.

While she retired to her room, he sighed. It
wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to have children with his wife, but
after two miscarriages and a stillbirth, they gave up. There were
some things no one could control, and maybe his grandmother was
right: it would take Citlali time to learn that simple lesson. He
hoped Citlali would learn it sooner rather than later.

But if Citlali thought Chogan was going to
confine himself to another mediocre marriage, he had another thing
coming. Yes, he’d loved his first wife well enough, but she didn’t
have that fire in her eyes like Julia did. No, he thought as he
finished the fish hook. If he couldn’t have Julia, he didn’t want
anyone. And since Julia wasn’t here, that meant he’d spend the rest
of his life alone.

***

Julia set her brush down and leaned back in
the chair in front of her small dresser. It was already Friday, and
Ernest would show up in an hour. She wished she had somewhere to
disappear to for the next three hours. Turning her blue eyes to the
mirror above her dresser, she wondered if her apprehension
showed.

Relax, Julia. Just because he’s coming to
supper, it doesn’t mean anything more will come of it.

The reminder eased the knots in her
stomach...but only a little bit. She tapped her fingers along the
warm brush handle before she brought it back to her long hair.
She’d already brushed it enough, so she forced herself to put the
brush back down and grabbed the pins. She twisted her hair into her
usual style, a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and inserted the
first pin. She had no reason to dress up. This wasn’t a romantic
event.

The door from downstairs opened and shut.
“Julia?”

“Upstairs,” Julia called out, noting the
excitement in her aunt’s steps. Apparently, the trip to the post
office yielded good results.

For a fifty-two-year-old woman, her aunt
moved with amazing grace up the steps. Erin’s face was flushed and
her smile couldn’t be wider. “Gary sent a response.”

Julia stood up, forgetting the pins in her
hand or the bun she was making. She went over to her aunt and
looked at the missive in her hands. “What did he say?”

Her aunt chuckled. “See for yourself.”

Julia accepted the paper and read through the
brief note. In his familiar sloppy script, he wrote that he was due
to come into Bismarck to sell more crops on Wednesday and would
stop by to arrange for them to see his family.

“Do you think they’ll want to come here?”
Julia asked, wishing her brother had specified that detail.

Erin shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll find out
on Wednesday.”

“Do you think he’ll come alone?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

She groaned. Ever since she could remember,
her brother was annoyingly vague on everything.

Erin clucked her tongue. “After all we’ve
been through, you’re not going to give Gary a hard time, are
you?”

“Of course not.” She handed the letter to her
aunt. “I wish he was more specific, that’s all.”

Her aunt gave her a sympathetic smile. “I
don’t suppose he’ll ever ramble on with details, though I wish he
said what time he’d come by.”

Julia returned to the dresser and pulled her
hair back up. “Oh well. That’s scatterbrained Gary for you. He
doesn’t think we have anything more important to do than wait for
him to show up.” Though she gave the admonition, her voice was
laced with humor.

“Even so, it’ll be good to see him again.”
Erin folded the letter. “I’m going to check on the roast.”

Julia slipped a couple of pins into her hair.
“I set out the pie and salad while you were out.”

By the time she finished putting the broach
on her dress, her hands trembled. Irritated, she shook them. Just
because Ernest was coming, it didn’t mean she had to be nervous.
He’d come for supper, they’d probably sit and talk for a good half
hour in the parlor, and then he’d go home. Erin would be satisfied
that she caught up on old times and that would be it. Minus the
occasional seeing him in town, Julia didn’t have anything to worry
about.

She repeated these things to herself as she
helped her aunt get ready for their guest, but when the doorbell
chimed, the butterflies in her stomach began their crazy fluttering
all over again.

It’s just Ernest. It’s just Ernest.

It wasn’t like Chogan was coming. That would
have been worse.

“I’ll get it,” Erin called out as she left
the kitchen. She took off her apron and draped it over the chair in
the corner of the room. “You finish setting the table.”