Authors: BRENDA WILLIAMSON
“You were to stay in the village,” Brant gently scolded
Charlie and then he turned to Eden. “I will remind my mother and my brother
that Charlie shouldn’t be left on his own until he understands the dangers.”
Eden had no argument. The Indians were used to letting small
children run free and unattended in and around the village. They’d not know
that Charlie wasn’t as careful or wary of his surroundings. She had to trust
Brant would not overlook that detail again.
“Mama, did Papa tell you we saw a bear?”
“That’s nice, dear.” She forced a smile, trying not to focus
on the fact that reinforced her concerns. “Now would you both turn around so I
can get out?”
“Mama, did you hear me? I saw a bear and it was bigger than
Papa. Then I fell out of the canoe and…”
“You fell into the river?” Eden hurried to get into the soft
leather dress, overwhelmed by the added distressing event.
“Yeah, but I’m all right.”
“Are you sure?” She rushed to squat down in front of him as
she held the ties of the doeskin against her shoulder.
“Sure, Mama.”
Brant took over fastening the dress while she ran a hand
over Charlie’s forehead and pushed his hair back, searching for bruises.
“A bear and falling in the river?” She rose and pulled
Charlie away from Brant. “I knew something like that might happen. You were supposed
to keep him safe. How could you not tell me, Brant Sullette?”
Charlie snickered and she didn’t understand why.
“He was not hurt, Eden.” Brant too had a smile.
She suspected it was a joke between father and son, but she
could not let go the seriousness of the incident.
“There’s nothing funny about this. He could have drowned. I
don’t want you to take him in that canoe again.” She pulled Charlie snug to her
side.
“Mama, I’m not a baby anymore,” Charlie whined.
“You want we should turn him into a squaw?” Brant charged,
folding his arms.
“Charlie, go wait for me over by those rocks while I talk to
your father.” She pointed out the direction.
“It was my fault he fell in the river, Eden.” Brant said.
“He was never in any danger of drowning. I was to him in seconds.”
“He knows nothing of the wilderness, Brant.” She tried to
ignore the way his gaze drifted over her.
“He will learn.” He glanced at her bare feet.
“Stop eyeing me as if you want to devour me,” she insisted,
intent on making him realize how upset she was.
“But I do.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the
center of her palm.
“You’ve already had me three times in less than twenty-four
hours.”
“And I will have you another three before the sun sets.”
A shiver of anticipation eased her anger. “Brant, be serious
for a moment. He doesn’t know what dangers there are with animals, the land or people.
You have to watch him every minute of every day.”
“I promise I will keep one eye on him and the other on you.”
He grinned.
She’d forgotten about the dimples in his cheeks when he was
happy.
He cupped her face. “Do you like the dress?” He fingered the
edge along her collarbone.
“I love it.” She nuzzled her cheek to his palm.
His fingers slid over the pattern of beads that trailed
between her breasts. “This symbol is of our marriage. I had planned to give you
a proper Indian wedding in the autumn. I don’t know how many times I sat at
night holding this dress, wishing I had given it too you sooner. I kept it all
these years, hoping you’d come back to me.”
“I found other items of mine in the box.” She moved in
closer to him. “Things I left behind.”
“I liked to keep you close. Over the years, as I spent time
waiting for you, watching the ranch for a glimpse of your return, I took stuff.
After your father died, I worried you would never return.”
“You sent me the telegram, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.” She tipped her head back as Brant’s mouth
descended toward her.
Then Charlie’s heart-stopping scream surrounded them.
Brant ran to Charlie as she spun around. She saw Charlie
falling, a snake at his feet. Brant plunged his knife so hard into the back of
the snake’s head he pinned the reptile to the ground.
Eden rushed to them and stared in disbelief as Brant tore
Charlie’s pant leg open. He cut into the flesh and sucked at the wound. He spit
and blood spattered the dirt.
“We have to get him back to the village.” Brant rose and
shook her. “Do you hear me, Eden?”
She nodded and watched him pick up her son. Charlie dangled
like a limp rag in Brant’s arms. He appeared small and frail.
“He’s going to die.” The words tumbled from her. She had
seen rattlers kill men.
Brant’s hurried and determined strides were longer than
hers. She felt numb and slow. She almost lost sight of him until he stopped,
slung Charlie over his shoulder and came back to take her arm and drag her
along to the camp.
“Sully, get our mother. Charlie’s been snake bit.” He let go
of Eden’s arm and ducked inside his lodge.
Eden felt shut out, alone and terrified. Then Brant emerged,
snatched her wrist and pulled her into the dimly lit area. She didn’t want to
watch her son die.
Lucy entered a moment later. She knelt next to Charlie and
quickly layered a paste and leaves over the wound. For a long time, Charlie lay
completely still. Eden tried to convince herself he was sleeping while the
horrifying fear he was dead and no one noticed danced in and out of her
thoughts.
Several times, she reached out to touch him. But drew it
back, too afraid to find out the truth. Charlie was the most precious thing in
her life. If he died, she’d die too. Unable to sit still, she paced the small
area.
“I should have stayed in Boston. He was safe there,” she
muttered, reprimanding herself.
“Eden.” Brant grabbed her arm.
She flashed a panicked look at Charlie.
“He needs you.” Brant led her to the pallet of furs.
“There’s nothing else to do but wait.” Lucy patted her
shoulder and left.
Eden tried to wipe the tears blurring her vision. It seemed
useless as the steady flow continued.
Brant eased her down next to Charlie and laid her hand on
Charlie’s arm. “Be strong for him.”
“This is your fault,” she blurted out.
“Eden.” He tried to hold her.
“No, get away from us.” Lying down next to Charlie, she
hugged her son’s lifeless body, praying that God not punish her child for her
mistakes.
Brant watched for two days as Charlie shook with a fever,
his little body fighting the venom poisoning him. Eden barely ate what his
mother brought to her. She hadn’t spoken and refused to look at him the whole
time. When she finally passed out from exhaustion, he bowed his head and wept.
Closing his eyes, he prayed to Charlie and Eden’s God. Eden had told him her
God was a generous one and he’d not care that Indian blood flowed in Charlie’s
veins.
When Charlie cried in his sleep, Brant lifted him up and
held him tight. He buried his face against the boy’s neck and prayed harder to
every God and spirit who ever existed. If Charlie died, he wouldn’t need Eden’s
hate to destroy him. He’d never survive losing his son and the woman who gave
his life meaning.
“Mama,” Charlie mumbled. “Mama, make him stop.”
“Get away from him.” Eden crawled over and put her hands out
for Charlie.
Brant loosened his grip, realizing how tightly he hugged the
boy.
“Get out and leave me alone with my son.” Eden demanded. “If
he dies, it’ll be your fault and no one will ever hate you the way I will.”
“Eden.” He released Charlie to her. “Eden I—”
Brant rose and left the lodge immediately. He paced the perimeter,
vigilant with his thoughts on Charlie recovering. Eden’s screams dragged him
back inside.
Charlie lay in her arms, convulsing. His body stiffened and
jerked. Brant unfastened his knife sheath, tossed the steel blade to the
ground. He forced the leather between Charlie’s teeth to prevent him from
biting his tongue or choking. Pressing a hand on his son’s chest and one on his
forehead, he held Charlie down until the fit passed.
“It’s over.” Brant took the leather from Charlie’s mouth and
picked him up.
“Let me have him.” Eden’s extended arms shook.
“I’ll hold him in case it happens again. Come sit next to me
to be close to him.”
Eden scooted around the pallet of furs without protest and
sat alongside him. He lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulders,
letting her lean her head against him as she put her hand on Charlie’s chest.
“It’s a good sign he has made it this long, isn’t it?” Eden
suddenly asked, not a hint of anger in her voice.
“Yes,” he replied, giving her the same hope he needed.
Her relieved sigh let her relax against him and he pressed a
kiss along her hairline.
“Tell me about him,” he said, eager to know all there was
about his son as well as distract her from her worries.
“He’s like you were as a boy.” A note of happiness rang in her
words.
“You gave him my name.” His heart beat harder with such
pride in that fact.
“And my uncle Charles.”
“Does Charlie like anything special, something I could do
with him?”
“He likes books.”
“That is nothing he got from me.” Brant laughed. “I hardly
did well when you taught me to read.”
“You did well when you put your mind to it.” Her respect
restored hope in him for salvaging their relationship. “He even knows how to
read a little. But mostly he likes me to read to him.”
“What does he like you to read?” Brant looked down at Eden’s
fingers stroking Charlie’s arm.
“His favorite book is about the west and Indians.”
“You said he didn’t know about me.”
He felt her take a deep breath and let it out quickly.
“I would have said anything to stop you from taking him from
me,” she confessed.
“Then you should have said he was not mine.”
“But he is and I wanted you know that.” She turned her face
against his chest and cried. “I always wanted you to know him. Ever since he
was born, I told him every story there was that was fit to tell about you. I
intended on bringing him here to meet you. I just didn’t know how you’d feel
about having a son when you didn’t want me.”
It was his turn to go silent as he contemplated just how
much of the past he wanted to rehash. But to face a future together, they had
to learn not to keep secrets.
“Your father ordered me to stay away and I didn’t want to do
anything that would make things difficult for you. When I got the courage to
try, you were gone. He told me then that he sent you away to have my child.”
“I’m sorry, Brant. I didn’t know.”
“It no longer matters.” He kissed her temple.
“Mama?” Charlie groaned.
“Yes, my sweet boy, I’m here.” She put her hand to his
forehead.
Brant put his hand there at the same time and she weaved her
fingers with his.
“I’m thirsty,” Charlie said.
Eden moved out of Brant’s circling arm. He felt a breeze
drift over his skin and a coolness touch his heart with self-sacrifice. He
couldn’t keep her if she didn’t want to stay. She made living in the east sound
as if it was a safe place and he wanted what was best for her and their son.
Eden poured water into a small wood bowl and held it to
Charlie’s lips. Brant held him up while she fed the liquid into his mouth.
“Papa, am I going to die?”
“Not today, son. It is not a good day.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m hungry,” Charlie complained.
“I’ll get you something to eat.” Eden brushed Charlie’s hair
from his forehead.
Her wet face had less worry when she looked at Brant. The
lines in her skin, softened. Her lips moved in a silent
“thank you”
and
he imaged them saying,
“I love you”
.
Brant eased Charlie down on the bedding of furs. His mother
entered and he motioned for to her to tend Charlie as he stood.
He pulled Eden up. “When he is well I want you to take him
back east where he belongs.”
“I can’t do that.” She twisted from him and went outside.
He followed her. “Why not?”
“First, because of the very reason you want to send him
away. You care about him and I’ll not deprive Charlie or myself of whatever
affection we can get from you!” Her voice rose with each word.
Brant looked around at the sudden silence from everyone in
the village within hearing distance of them. And while it was good to see
Eden’s spirit return, a woman didn’t talk to her husband in such defiant tones.
“You
will
leave. Now go tend to your son, I have no
more to say to you,” he said, protecting his ego.
Eden stormed away but not into his lodge. As if she needed
to do more to make him look weak in front of his tribe, she went to the
campfire.
The appearance of his father, Blue Wolf, returning from
trading with a neighboring tribe stopped him from chasing after Eden and
demanding she obey him.
“Word reached me that your son was bitten by a snake?” Blue
Wolf said.
“Two days ago,” Brant replied.
Blue Wolf’s brow wrinkled as if he were concerned. “I am
sorry.” He laid his hand on Brant’s shoulder in a consolatory manner.
“And he has survived it.” Brant added. “The snake must have
used most of its venom biting another creature before striking Charlie.
He looked for relief in the man’s face, but Blue Wolf’s
expression remained as it always did, serious.
“Good. A man should never have to lose a son.” His sad tone
confused Brant.
Brant took a deep, strengthening breath. “Tomorrow, I will take
Eden and Charlie back to her home. They don’t belong here. I will go now and
help the other braves with your trade goods.”
Aware that his father was never in favor of his friendship
with Eden, Brant walked away hating having to admit that Blue Wolf had always
been right to advise him it wasn’t a good idea to involve himself with a white
girl.
Eden and Charlie would face too many dangers staying with
him. Charlie may not be so lucky if he crossed paths with another snake. But
how was he going to give up his son? How was he going to let Eden go?
* * * * *
Eden looked up from stirring the soup pot when she felt
someone behind her. She expected Brant but discovered his father, Blue Wolf.
“Walk with me,” he ordered instead of asking.
She nodded out of respect. There was a time she remembered
being too afraid to question his authority. Times had changed. She wasn’t a
young girl too frightened to stand her ground. Blue Wolf had intimidated her by
telling her that she’d never be welcomed in their camp. If he thought to tell
her that again then he’d be in for a surprise.
“Brant is taking you and your son back to the ranch in the
morning,” he stated.
“You don’t want us here.” She looked down and stared at the
fringe jiggling on her moccasins as she walked. “You never did like me.”
“Years ago I thought it was dangerous for Brant to want you.
He was a man, Chawi Pawnee, and you were a white child.”
“We are the same age, Blue Wolf.”
“In seasons, not deeds accomplished. He’d killed his first
antelope at the age of eight. He built his first canoe when he was nine. By the
time he met you he was twelve summers, he had done everything but choose a
wife, an Indian wife who knew everything about our ways.”
“But Brant is half white and half Indian.”
“In the white man’s eyes that makes him only Indian.”
He was right, of course. Settlers in the area didn’t care
that Brant’s mother was white. They saw Brant as an Indian and nothing more.
“You took a white woman for your wife, why shouldn’t Brant?”
Eden argued, even though she knew it to be disrespectful to question a tribe
elder.
Blue Wolf’s gaze narrowed on her as if he’d reprimand her
for her tone, but then his features softened. “Lucy came to me as a captive and
she was much older than you. She said she had no people to return to.”
Brant never spoke of his mother’s past. Hearing that she was
once a captive piqued her curiosity. Eden of course knew of the problems her
father and their neighbors had with the different bands of Indians when she was
little. Her father’s constant rants often included them.
“You are young,” Blue Wolf continued. “Brant does not want
you just to warm his bed and cook his meals. He is willing to sacrifice his
pride and his life for you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your father told him to stay away from you. The last time
he attempted to visit you, returned to his mother with a bullet in him.” Blue
Wolf put his hand against his chest, indicating the same location that Brant
had a scar.
Of all the reasons for Brant not returning to her, one of
the worse had come to pass. She had no words to express the anger and hatred
she felt toward her father.
“The bullet made him sick with a fever and by the time he
recovered, two moons had passed,” Blue Wolf continued. “He said he had given
his vow to be your husband and asked if you could come live here. I said yes
because his mother would have been heartbroken.”
“And I was gone.” She stated the sad fact. Because of her,
Brant had suffered a terrible injury and the loss of her and his son from his
life.
“It was a good thing then that you left and it would be a
good thing now if you take your son and go.”
“Just as I told Brant, Charlie and I are not leaving him,”
she said, surprised Blue Wolf would ask her to make Brant undergo more
emotional pain.
Blue Wolf eyed her up and down. “My son lets a woman weaken
him with her sharp tongue, so maybe he should be my son no more.”
“Are you saying if I don’t leave him, you’ll disown him?
Blue Wolf went silent.
Upset that her decision had an impact on Brant’s
relationship with his father, she turned to go.
Blue Wolf grabbed her by the wrist. “Lucy was with child
before she came to my lodge.”
“Are you saying that you’re not Brant’s father?” she asked,
to clarify his statement.
“Brant knows nothing of this.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“To make you understand why the two of you should have never
been together.” He let go of her arm. “After two white men killed a Skidi
Pawnee brave’s wife and stole his daughter, the brave returned home to tell his
people what happened. A raiding party attacked the white man’s ranch and burned
all the buildings to the ground. The white men escaped death, but the Skidi
brave found his daughter with a young white woman. He took the white woman
captive.”
“I still don’t understand how this has anything to do with
me staying with Brant.”
“One of the white men was Brant’s father.”
“So Brant’s not Indian at all?” Eden was stunned.
“No. And the man who kept his mother prisoner was Emmet
Caruthers.”
Eden took in a sharp breath. “My father’s brother? That
can’t be. You’re just saying this because you don’t think I’m good enough for
Brant. My uncle would never have done the things you say.”
Yet, even as she challenged Blue Wolf’s word, she knew it
had to be true. While Emmet Caruthers wasn’t blood related, a son to the woman
who married her grandfather after her grandmother died, her uncle was every bit
like her father. He treated women poorly.
She stared at Blue Wolf. His wet eyes shamed her for
thinking he took pleasure in saying he was not Brant’s father. At the same
time, she thought of how Brant’s life had been hard because people believed he
was a half-breed.
Then she thought of how Blue Wolf said she should go.
“Emmet wasn’t my father’s real brother,” she told him,
concerned he thought she and Brant were related.
“The brothers shared her.”
“No.” She refused to believe Blue Wolf. He didn’t like her
and he’d say anything to keep her and Brant apart. “Pardon me, I have to get
something for Charlie to eat,” she said.
Afraid he’d say something to convince her, she rushed back
to the cook pot over the fire. As she ladled the soup into a wood bowl, her
hands trembled. She walked back to the lodge, ducked under the flap and looked
at Charlie and Sully talking.
“Eden?” Brant’s voice startled her and the bowl tipped out
of her hands.