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Authors: Cynthia Wright

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BOOK: Fireblossom
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He squinted into the sunlight, thinking.

"They are
myths,
aren't they?" Maddie pressed, her voice rising.

"Mostly." He looked down at her pale face and laughed. "Where is the spirited woman who came, uninvited, to find her sister and discover for herself what the Sioux were really like?"

"I—I still feel that way!" she protested, licking her lips. "It's just that... I mean, I can't help feeling a qualm or two... about the unknown, I mean."

Fox took pity on her. "Yes, I know what you mean. In fact, I'll tell you a secret. I wasn't prepared for the onslaught I felt myself when we first glimpsed Bear Butte—and I've been here before." He paused for a moment, then continued, "I wish I could tell you exactly what to expect, Maddie, but I'm not sure myself. A lot's changed since I spent time, a long time in fact, among the Lakota people. They still believed most of the white man's promises then. They still had enough freedom to carry on their way of life. That's over now, in spite of the Indian victory at Little Bighorn. I don't doubt that the people who are following Crazy Horse are even angrier and more frustrated than the rest of the Lakota, which is why I'd've preferred that you stay in Deadwood. It was a shame that you listened to your grandmother rather than your father and me."

"You don't really think they'll
harm
us...? You told Father that you believed you would be safe, that you had friends among the Sioux, even among Crazy Horse's renegade bands!"

Fox shrugged. "Do you really imagine that I would have voiced any fears to your father even if I had them? I cannot give you guarantees, but a few short years ago I would have. The majority of the Lakota people I have known have been the fine human beings. Your father and I have both told you what we feel about the Indians."

"But you aren't sure whether they are still like that?" Maddie knew she ought to leave it alone, but she could not help worrying the matter like a dog with a bone. Was she going to be cooked alive over burning embers or torn apart by four horses running in different directions?

"I don't know what else to say to you. These people feel hopeless and betrayed. Others whom they have befriended have turned against them, so they may not trust me, either." He took a dried apricot from his pocket and chewed it thoughtfully before adding, "The Lakota are wise, though. They will remember that I did not ask for anything from them, nor have I broken any promises. I shared only friendship and laughter and work with them during my years on the plains. There's no reason for them to punish me for the transgressions of others. I believe that we will be safe."

Maddie sighed audibly and a smile spread slowly over her lovely face. "Well, then, that's good enough for me. Now I can indulge in pure excitement over the next chapter in our adventure. We'll be
safe!
" She repeated his words with added emphasis, as if that would lend them more credibility.

Fox sighed, too, but there was a weight on his heart. He and Maddie would probably remain safe... as long as Crazy Horse and his Lakota followers didn't discover that he had been among the bluecoats who'd been hunting Indians that infamous day at Little Bighorn.

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

August 6, 1876

 

Dusk was gathering, washing the landscape with hues of amber and rose, when the pair of mules pulled their wagon and two passengers to the crest of a gentle ridge. Bear Butte loomed before them now, filling Maddie's vision. The flatland that lay below the ridge and stretched up to the laccolith's base was threaded with cottonwood trees.

Fox drew back on the reins and narrowed his eyes at the distant trees that shimmered in the gentle breeze. "Those cottonwoods mean water. They grow along streambeds, and that's where the Indians make camp." He shaded his eyes and wished he'd thought to bring a spyglass. Suddenly it occurred to Fox how careless he'd been—probably because his mind had been clouded by a lot of nonsensical visions of Maddie. Why hadn't he realized that the Indians might attack them before he could establish contact, before he even knew they were there! How the hell was he going to communicate if he didn't see someone he recognized early on? And the words—! Panic swept over him as he struggled to remember the rudiments of the Lakota language he'd nearly mastered a few years ago.

Sensing his tension, Maddie said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he murmured, and gave her a smile of calm assurance. "I was just thinking... wondering how best to approach this situation."

"Shouldn't we search for the village?"

"Oh, I don't doubt that it's down there, shielded by the cottonwoods. In fact, my guess is that they already know we're here."

Maddie tried to swallow, but it seemed that something was lodged in her throat. Reality penetrated at last: Fox really had no guarantees about what would happen when they came face-to-face with these renegade Indians.

"Maybe it would be best just to sit here for a little while and wait—give them a chance to come to us," he decided at length. "I believe I'll eat while I can."

She stared in disbelief as he rooted around behind them in the wagon and brought out a hunk of rye bread, some jerky, and a couple of plums, all of which he offered to Maddie. "No, thank you," she cried in a strangled voice. "I've no stomach for food at the moment."

"Sorry to hear it," Fox replied laconically. He ate with relish, washed it all down with cold coffee, wiped his mouth, then got out to give Watson and the mules water from a bucket. When he returned to his seat, Maddie was fairly wringing her hands.

"How can you be so composed? Why, I—"

"Don't raise your voice," Fox interrupted. "It carries on the breeze. Would you be happier if I gnashed my teeth and begged God to spare us from torture and death?"

Before Maddie could speak again, Fox lifted his head, put a finger to her mouth, and listened. "They're coming," he whispered.

Sheer terror flooded her. For an instant she thought she might faint, then her innate strength bobbed to the surface. "Shall I get a rifle?"

Fox gave her an endearing smile and caressed her cheek with a brown hand. "My darling Madness, it would do you no good in the face of a band of Indian warriors, but I do admire your pluck. I believe that you'd defend us both if you had to."

Tears blurred her vision and she wiped them away furiously. "There must be something we can do!" A symphony of hoofbeats reached her ears, rising out of the flatland below them.

"Just this." He slipped his strong arms around her and drew her into his embrace, still smiling at her with fond blue eyes that crinkled at the corners. "There's no point in worrying. Better to expect the best." He kissed her then, bending her backward, his mouth working on her tense lips until he felt them soften and respond. Finally he kissed his way down her cheek and throat, murmuring, "Shhh..." so soothingly that she went limp in his arms.

Fox was relieved that Maddie was able to respond to him in the midst of her fear. He knew that she'd be terrified by the sight of the braves, with their war paint that was meant to frighten and intimidate strangers, and he'd hoped to distract her. At length, lifting his head, he saw that five of the lean young men, clad in buckskin leggings and fierce-looking in their bright paint and feathers, had formed a line astride their agile ponies. Two of the other riders were galloping the rest of the way up the gentle slope. One of them wore paint on his face that made him resemble a ferocious bear; he wore his hair unbraided, and his naked upper body was streaked with more paint. His companion, whose face was painted mostly white with green circles around his eyes, wore a blue short coat that had once belonged to a white army officer. Fox wondered if the blue coat was a treasure from Little Bighorn.

"Oh, my lord..." Maddie breathed, the words scarcely audible.

The two braves made a menacing show of their approach to the wagon, reining their horses up short, brandishing decorated spears, and shouting a challenge in the Lakota language.

Fox was surprised to discover that he was calm. A sense of deja vu enveloped him like magic. Meeting the fierce stare of the first man, he declared,
"Kola!"
—uttering the Lakota word for "friend." He pointed to himself and then to Maddie. Emboldened, he added the exclamation of pleasure:
"Hun-hun-he, kola!"

The five-man escort party began to murmur among themselves while the young man wearing the army officer's coat glared at his companion and grunted something unintelligible to Fox. It was the first man with whom he felt the unconscious rapport, so he continued to meet his thoughtful stare. At length the fellow spoke slowly in Lakota and Fox translated his words mentally: "I think we have met before, bold friend, as you call yourself. My name is Kills Hungry Bear. Are you...?"

Flooded by elation and recognition, Fox half rose and exclaimed, "My old friend! I am the one your people called Fox-With-Blue-Eyes."

Maddie stared at the two of them, stunned, as they greeted each other as brothers. Kills Hungry Bear was introduced to her, and she managed to smile. Then the other Indian nudged his companion. His fearsome expression was now rather sulky, like a boy being excluded from an important event.

Laughing, Kills Hungry Bear gestured sideways and presented Striped Owl, who was, he explained, one of the Cheyenne who had joined with the Lakota bands who resisted reservation life. When greetings were exchanged among Striped Owl and the white visitors, Kills Hungry Bear asked Fox why they were there.

"I have come to meet with your people. I did not know that you would be among them," Fox replied, surprised to discover how readily the Lakota words returned to him. "Miss Avery and I are searching for someone whom we believe to be with those who follow Crazy Horse."

"I must trust you," Kills Hungry Bear replied solemnly. "You have never lied to me, so I believe you. There are many among your race who would lie to gain access to Crazy Horse so that they might strike him down, but I shall explain to my people that you and your woman are different."

"The Lakota people have been very good to me. I owe all of you a great deal," Fox said. "You may trust me; I hope that you will."

"Then let us go to the village. You both look hungry and tired, so we will offer you food and rest, and then we will talk."

As Kills Hungry Bear wheeled his buckskin pony around, Fox noticed the symbol of a hand wiped across the animal's flank. He remembered then that it meant the rider was in mourning. Memories of his friend's family, who had treated him like a relative, returned with stinging clarity, and Fox spoke. "Kills Hungry Bear... I see that you are in mourning." He chose his words carefully, avoiding a direct question that might offend.

The young man glanced back, his shining black hair flying behind him in the evening breeze. Twilight accentuated his clay-colored skin and the shadow of sadness that passed over his proud features. "Do you remember my brother, Aiming Fast? In the Moon of Making Fat, he was killed at the Greasy Grass River by Long Hair's bluecoat soldiers."

Fox managed to nod, then slapped the reins against the mules' backs so that they would carry the wagon rumbling down the hill after the seven proud young Indians astride their ponies.

Maddie clutched Fox's arm and whispered excitedly, "We're safe, aren't we? I don't know what you were saying, but I could tell. Everything's going to be all right, isn't it?" She paused to wait for his nod, then rushed on, "What was he talking about at the end?"

"Why do you ask?" Fox's voice was low and harsh.

"Did I say something wrong? I just meant that... well, it's very
odd
to be frightened out of one's wits by people who have dressed up to accomplish that very purpose, and then, when they speak, not to be able to understand a word that's being said! I'm just curious, that's all. I wish you'd translate all of it for me so that I don't feel quite so lost!" She pushed back the wayward tendrils that blew around her cheeks and brow. "He's your friend; I can see that much—and there was something very touching about the expression on his face at the end. Won't you tell me what he said?"

"His
name is Kills Hungry Bear," Fox reminded her.

"He's as worthy a human being as anyone you know, so you may as well call him by name." A sigh rose aching from his heart before he finished, "The last thing I spoke to Kills Hungry Bear about was the symbol of mourning painted on his pony's flank."

"And?" Maddie prodded gently, thinking at the same time that she would never be able to learn what everything meant in this extraordinarily foreign culture.

"His brother, who I once knew, was killed at Little Bighorn by one of Custer's soldiers." Fox's eyes burned as he spoke the words. Why did life have to be such a damned bloody mess? Would he ever find his way out of this labyrinth of guilt and confusion? Annie Sunday had taught him that good and bad were easy to separate if one searched for the truth, but in the world that was being reshaped on America's frontier, everything seemed to be painted in shades of gray. Right and wrong just depended on a person's point of view.

BOOK: Fireblossom
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