Lakota Surrender (35 page)

He stood at the windows and surveyed with disdain the white man’s attempt at old-world finery. There was something ephemeral about their colorful dress, the ghost-like powder on their faces and hair, their snobbish disregard for the traders and their Indian wives. Did the white man really seek to exclude others simply because of their style of dress, their manner of speaking or the color of their skin? The Indian could not fathom such foolishness.

Tahiska didn’t like it. In fact, as he glanced at the wistful faces crowded around the windows, anger stirred inside him. He and all these Indians were supposed to be guests at the fort, yet they were treated with no more respect than a dog.

Motioning to Wahtapah and Neeheeowee, Tahiska marched to the banquet hall’s entrance. He was no dog, and it was time the white man discovered this. He entered the ballroom with little trouble. All it took was a fierce look at the soldiers guarding the door before they melted quickly away. He and his two friends stepped just inside the entry and despite its finery, its boast of superiority Tahiska found he was unimpressed with the banquet hall’s elegance.

His gaze searched for Kristina, and finding her walked directly toward her, purpose clearly etched on his face. The time had come to announce to the white man that the Indian would abide discrimination no more.

The music changed. Tahiska noticed it
,
but paid it no heed. He would have this dance with his wife.

He tapped her on the shoulder and staring down at her, felt his anger reach the boiling point. She was his. They were married, husband and wife, and it was time the white man learned this. Murmuring
mitawicu,
he enveloped her in his arms.

They danced, they swayed, they whirled across the floor together. Tahiska’s grace at the white man’s dance was a beauty to behold.

But no one was intent on its aesthetic.

A shocked hush fell upon the hall. Couples parted, folding back toward the sidelines, as all stared at the only two figures on the dance floor. Some of the women hid their eyes beneath fans; some of the women openly glared. All of the men stared in shocked silence.

The orchestra conductor, unaware of the spectacle behind him, kept the strings playing the haunting melody of Pachelbel’s “Canon.”

It was the first time Tahiska had danced to the white man’s music. And as he stared down at Kristina, he felt his anger slip away. She was beautiful. She was his. She moved in perfect unison with his steps, and for a moment, he thought he floated, as though in a dream. He smiled with effusive pleasure, his love for her clearly expressed in his eyes. And she returned his look with a rich emotion all her own.

As he held her in his arms, he knew she loved him dearly. And for the first time since their marriage, she didn’t attempt to hide it.

Julia gaped at the couple in the center of the dance floor. They made a spectacular sight, and one that had never before been witnessed at this fort. Tahiska was flawlessly dressed in his white deerskin shirt and leggings. Ornamented in blue, red, and yellow beads, sewn and painted with the same color porcupine quills, his dress complemented Kristina’s own ivory creation. His white breechcloth fell out and back with his movements and the lone eagle feather fell softly in his long, black hair. He was wild, untamed, and looked at complete variance with his golden-haired partner who was dressed lavishly enough to mingle within the courts of England. Nevertheless, they were fused together, and had there not been so much prejudice, Julia would have sworn all would see that they belonged together.

But she worried. Had Tahiska lost all sense? She marked the expressions of those to her right, those to her left. Would Kristina’s reputation be shattered in the morning?

Julia resolved this should not be, and surveying the entrance, stepped quietly toward Tahiska’s two friends, pulling Neeheeowee out onto the dance floor. If these spectators were determined to gossip about Kristina, Julia decided they could speculate about her as well.

Neeheeowee followed the white woman onto the center of the dance floor reluctantly He had never learned this dance as his Lakota friend had, and he didn’t want to look the fool. However, he guessed Julia’s purpose and followed her lead. And though his movements were awkward, he tried his best to perform.

The soft strains of the melody fell around them, and soon Major Bogard approached a trader’s wife, joining the two unusual couples in the center. George Catlin followed, asking one of the Indian wives, who stood at the entrance, to honor him with a dance. General Leavenworth, sensing a change of attitude and noting Mr. Catlin’s enthusiasm, quickly followed suit, and soon the traders, their wives in hand, joined the unusual sight. Before long, conversation accompanied the soft melody, and while a few refused to take part in this merging of cultures, most of the observers joined in, swaying to the beautiful notes of Pachelbel’s “Canon.”

And had someone witnessed this from above, he would not have been able to discern white from Indian.

The conductor, sensing the enthusiasm of the crowd, kept the music flowing. And soon, the hall was ablaze with life.

Kristina held Tahiska’s gaze. She felt as though he were her only lifeline in this confusion of music, swaying movement, and hushed voices. The haunting melody of the violin and cello weaved a fantasy world around them. When he smiled at her, all else fell away. The frowning stares, the muffled murmurings became as nothing. She smiled back. For the moment, the two of them existed in a space out of time. She acknowledged only Tahiska, his love of her clearly displayed in the deep black of his eyes, and for the first time, she didn’t care who witnessed her devotion to him.

She was wrapped in his embrace, unaware of Julia and Neeheeowee’s support, even of her father’s, Mr. George Catlin’s, and General Leavenworth’s acceptance of their dance. She didn’t hear the laughter. She didn’t observe the mix of cultures. In a world of her own, she swept around and around with her partner, smiling gently into his eyes.

The music stopped. The spell was broken. For a moment Kristina did nothing but stare up at Tahiska. Gradually, however, she drifted back to earth.

Still holding his gaze, she backed up. His arms fell away and she stepped out of his hold.

She said nothing. Silently, he watched her retreat.

She had just made a spectacle of herself. Her mother would rage at her and insist now that she be sent away. Tears gathered at the back of her eyes. Would she ever be able to explain? She had to decide. She could no longer live in both worlds. She had put off making the decision for a long while, and now the choice was forced upon her. But Kristina was unprepared, even loving him as she did. She sobbed and, tearing her gaze from his, fled.

No one took note of her departure. A barrier had been broken and as conversation and laughter filled the hall, no one observed the girl who had set this scene into motion—no one except an Indian who wordlessly watched her flee, every step of the way.

Chapter Seventeen

Kristina sat stiffly by her bedroom window. The sash was open, admitting the chilly evening breeze. She faced the whisper of wind, allowing it to fan her cheeks, but she saw nothing, only the replays of the dance in her mind.

What had she done? Unless she was able to flee the fort this very night, there was every chance her mother would confine her to her room until she could arrange to send her away—and just when Kristina had decided that this style of life meant nothing to her without Tahiska. If that fact meant living as the Indians did, so be it.

In the distance a star shot across the sky, causing Kristina to glance at it in wonder. It was said that if one wished upon a star hard enough, the wish would come true. Focusing her attention Kristina wished with all her heart. She stared at it for a moment, then closing her eyes, took a deep breath.

“Have I upset you,
mitawicu?”

Kristina jumped at the sound of his voice. She spun around to face him, as dim and shadowy as a phantom standing behind her. Kristina clutched the window ledge at her back for support and stared up at him. The wind blew the sheer curtains against her dress, enveloping her softly, while wisps of hair fell gently around her face.

Tahiska captured a tendril of her hair in his hand. Against the moonlight, it shimmered as pale and golden as the morning sun against the brown tone of his skin. He sighed.

“Are you upset with me?” he asked again.

Kristina reached out her hand to touch him to prove to herself that he was real. She slid her fingers over his cheek, reassured by the velvety feel of his skin beneath her touch. She trailed her hand downward over his neck to the soft leather of his shirt without saying a word.

The magical enchantment of the dance returned. Nothing existed except the two of them, and as he bent his head to her, his lips touching hers, Kristina was swept into another realm, another world. Nothing mattered, not culture, not enemies, not prejudice. There was only love, as vivid and real as existence itself.

She melted against him. Nothing had ever felt so right. And as the kiss deepened, she knew the fort was no longer home. Where once the garrison’s walls had stood for security, now those same barriers represented imprisonment. Her place was out there with her husband. Her husband.

Kristina ran her hands through his hair. Had she finally admitted to herself that they were, in truth, husband and wife?

She broke away, staring at him in the faint moonlight. “I will never allow you more than one wife,” she whispered, her lips still against his. “Know that if you marry me, I will be the only.”

“We will talk of this more tomorrow.”

“No, I would have your word now.”

He smiled. “Then you acknowledge that you are my wife?”

Kristina couldn’t turn her gaze from his face. In the hazy darkness, he looked so handsome, Kristina was overcome with yearning. How was it possible to love anyone so much?

He just continued smiling at her, trailing his fingers over her cheek. “At last, you are truly my wife, are you not?”

She nodded, the simple gesture conveying love more fervently than mere words could possibly have done.

“You will come with me when it is time for me to return to my people?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Tahiska had never felt anything quite like this. Happiness flowed from him as though it were a tangible quality. He ached with feeling, and at this moment he knew that he could search the universe forever and never find another love such as this. “I will strive,” he whispered in his own tongue, “to keep you always happy.”

His glance at her was as silky as a caress, as gentle and pure as the love between them. And Kristina, a willing victim of it, melted into his arms.

Tahiska enfolded her against him, and when a single tear fell from his eye, he chose to ignore it.

“Stay with me.” Kristina’s voice was only a whisper.

“I cannot.”

She breathed deeply, pulling away from him. “We won’t be disturbed. I can lock my door.”

“Hiya.
No. I cannot stay.”

“Why?”

Tahiska looked toward the ceiling, then back at his wife. Though he longed to tell her, he couldn’t. What would her reaction be if he confessed to her his real reason for being here? She would know tomorrow. That would be soon enough. He and his friends needed the element of surprise. If he told Kristina his plans now, she might warn those who had the most to lose. If he was in her position, isn’t that what he would do? No, he dared not discuss it. Even now his friends waited for him. They hadn’t liked his leaving them, but he’d had to see Kristina.

“Why, Tahiska? Tell me.” She took his hand in hers, leading it to her breast.

His indrawn breath sounded too loud against the quiet of the night surrounding them.

“I love you, my husband,” she avowed. “I want you to stay with me.”

His hand burned against her cool flesh. And despite himself, Tahiska responded.

Where the touch upon her breast had been feather-light, he now cupped his fingers over the fullness of her, realizing he had lost this subtle game, yet willingly submitting, all the same. He sighed, then asked, “Will we be disturbed?”

“Not until morning. You could stay the night.”

The temptation was too great, and Tahiska was beyond denying himself. He’d been patient forever, it seemed, and he hadn’t spent a full night with his wife since his wedding day. She was his by her own admission, and he needed no further inducement.

He pulled her back against him. “So be it,” he murmured into the softness of her hair.

He didn’t see the smile cross Kristina’s face. But when she took his hand, leading him to the bed, he glanced at her and caught the happy grin.

“I love you,” she spoke softly.

He returned her smile. “And I love you.”

He kissed her then, and when she pulled him down to the bed, he pretended not to notice that, unlike the solid earth, it gave way beneath them. What did it matter? He was here with his wife. It was enough.

Tahiska lay awake, Kristina in his arms. Soon he would leave. Soon he would face what he must. But for now he sighed, content. He glanced down at his love and smiled. In sleep, she took complete possession of him, one of her arms thrown over his chest, one leg over both of his. But he didn’t mind. In truth, he wished he could get closer, but it wasn’t humanly possible.