Savage Abandon (12 page)

Even before she was awake, Mia groaned with discomfort. Then she opened her eyes and cried out in despair when she saw just how bad her poison ivy was.

She threw aside the blanket she had slept under. It felt damp and clammy.

She sat up and gasped. By the moonlight that came down from the smoke hole above, she saw just how bad the poison ivy on her legs was. They were swollen to twice their normal size, and the itching sores were seeping fluid, which had gotten the blanket wet.

“Oh, what am I to do?” she cried softly.

She knew that if the poison ivy wasn’t medicated soon, and in the right way, she might even lose her legs. A friend of her father had gotten poison ivy and lost an arm because of it, mainly because he had not taken it seriously enough to go to a doctor when he should have.

But Mia had no idea where the nearest town
might be or if it even had a doctor who could help her.

The itching and hurting was almost driving her wild, yet she knew that scratching the rash would only make it worse. Mia lay back down and sobbed so hard, her body shook.

When Wolf Hawk spoke her name outside the closed entrance flap, her eyes widened.

She hadn’t seen him since she had asked him to leave her tepee.

“Come in,” she said weakly.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks with the palm of a hand.

She gazed again at her seeping legs, which she just could not cover again with a blanket. It would cause her even more pain if the blanket were to make contact with her sores.

She then looked up at Wolf Hawk as he came into the tepee with a tray of food for her dinner.

When he saw her and how ill she was from the poison ivy, he almost dropped the tray in shock.

He knew what was ailing her.

He had seen this kind of rash before on the legs of the children who had gone farther into the forest than was usually allowed and got entangled in the poison vine. Some of them had become very ill because of it.

They had even lost one child whose body had been too weak to fight off the horrible effects of the poison vine. Even his grandfather Shaman had not been able to stop the child from dying.

He looked more closely at Mia’s legs, worried
when he saw just how badly she was afflicted by the poison of the vine. Were she to die, he would always blame himself for having brought her to his village. Why had she felt the need to flee his people even though she had not been mistreated?

But he understood. She saw herself as a captive, and the very word was enough to send dread into anyone’s heart.

He wished now that he had told her he saw her not as a captive, but instead as a woman he had deep feelings for.

And now?

No sooner had he found a woman who affected his heart in such a sensuous way, than he feared he might lose her.

“I must get you to Shadow Island,” he exclaimed, already setting the tray on the floor. “Now. Not later.”

“Shadow Island?” Mia asked meekly, still nervous of Wolf Hawk after seeing him appear in such a mysterious way yesterday.

But she couldn’t ask him about what she had seen. She was afraid of what his reaction would be.

“Shadow Island is where my grandfather Shaman lives,” Wolf Hawk said.

He bent to his knees to sweep her into his arms, then stopped. He had never taken a white person to Shadow Island before, but now he must. He knew that he must get Mia to his grandfather and ask Talking Bird to use his magic cures on her. The woman was so ill. Talking Bird was her only chance of surviving this horrible sickness.

And Wolf Hawk was desperate for her to survive. He cared deeply for her.

He had hoped she would want to stay at his village, not flee from it, as he now knew she had tried to do yesterday. After she had asked him to leave the tepee, he had followed her tracks far from his village and straight into the poison vine area.

He knew that was why she had returned. She had surely had experience with the poison vine before and knew that she would have a bad reaction to it.

She had actually returned to plea for help; his.

“You are so kind to do this for me,” Mia murmured as she felt his powerful arms lift her up.

“My grandfather knows all things,” Wolf Hawk said as he carried her from the tepee, ignoring the surprised looks of his people, and hurried toward his canoe.

He would have preferred to fly her over to the island, but knew that seeing him in hawk form would terrify her. No. He had to keep her from discovering his mystical abilities.

He gazed into her eyes as she looked up at him while he gently laid her in the canoe. “My grandfather will make you well,” he said, searching her eyes. He was glad to see trust in them. But there was something else, too. It was a look of wonder, as though she knew something that he didn’t.

He was curious what that look meant, but he had no time to dwell on it now. He had to focus on getting her well. He did not want to lose her after having just found and fallen in love with her.

He had been attracted to many women of his tribe, yet none had spoken to his heart as had this woman.

He did not want to believe that his people would shun him were he to announce his feelings for this white woman. They knew him well and understood that he always acted out of the goodness of his heart.

Mia lay on the floor of the canoe as Wolf Hawk shoved it out into the water, then climbed aboard himself.

She began shivering, both from a fever that had just claimed her, and fear of what lay ahead. In the river she could see a small island that was partly obscured by mist.

Although her flesh was hot, she shivered with a chill that made her teeth chatter.

Aware that Mia was growing worse, Wolf Hawk drew the paddle more determinedly through the water, his eyes now focused on the island.

As it grew closer, he began to wonder what his grandfather would think about his bringing a white woman to Shadow Island. Never had he treated anyone with white skin before.

Would he think it wrong of Wolf Hawk to ask this of him? Or would he understand the feelings that Wolf Hawk had for the woman?

Almost delirious now with her fever, Mia whispered, “Papa…Mama…I shall soon join you.”

As Wolf Hawk made his way toward Shadow Island, Mia subsided into a semiconscious state.

The splash of the water from his paddle made her believe that she was on the river with her family again, in their scow, happy and laughing together before her father’s heart had become a problem and before Mia had grown tired of river travel.

The rocking of the boat lulled her into wonderful memories of being with her parents again, while occasional drops of water against her fevered brow felt cool and refreshing.

If she listened hard enough, she could actually hear her mother’s sweet laughter and her father tapping his pipe empty of tobacco against the sides of the scow after finishing a lengthy smoke.

She could even smell the distinctive scent of of the tobacco he had used. It always reminded her of sweet apples in the autumn.

“We are at the island now,” Wolf Hawk said, breaking into Mia’s memories.

She opened her eyes, but she could barely see Wolf Hawk as he leapt over the side of the canoe. He waded through the shallow water, shoving the canoe onto the sandy shore.

He came to her and gazed into her eyes, concerned when he saw how bloodshot they were, and that she seemed hardly able to keep them open.

“You are going to be alright,” Wolf Hawk quickly reassured her. He reached a gentle hand to her hot cheek, where her flesh was free of the terrible rash. “My grandfather Shaman will make it so.”

“I…I…have never been…this…ill,” Mia managed to say.

She was fighting to stay conscious. She wanted to be awake when the Shaman began working his magic on her. She wanted to be aware of what he did.

Although she trusted Wolf Hawk with every fiber of her being now, she still recalled how she had heard men laughing and calling Indian Shamans witch doctors who practiced voodoo on their people when they were ill.

“You will soon be well,” Wolf Hawk said, gently lifting her from the canoe.

He was Mia’s protector now, and he would make certain she allowed him to be the one who looked out for her and keep her safe from all harm, forevermore.

Mia drifted in and out of consciousness, but she was aware of Wolf Hawk’s muscled arms as he lifted her gently from the canoe.

She was aware, too, that he was not walking as he carried her to his grandfather’s home, but running. She knew that he was truly concerned about her, and wanted to get her help as soon as possible.

She could not help loving him for that. And as he carried her through a grove of wolf willows, which glowed eerily in the moonlight as a slow fog came creeping upon the land, she began to feel more comfortable about what was happening.

She did trust Wolf Hawk.

And she knew that whatever his grandfather Shaman might do in his effort to make her well, she would accept it.

At this moment in time, she had only Wolf Hawk as her protector. She now trusted him implicitly.

“Do not be afraid,” Wolf Hawk said, knowing that all of this must be so strange to her. But this visit was completely necessary. If his grandfather did not use his magical cures on Mia, she might not live for many more tomorrows, and he wanted her with him forever, not only for a few more feverish days.

“I suddenly feel no fear,” Mia murmured, then licked her dry, parched lips. “I…I…want to be well, Wolf Hawk.”

“And you will be,” Wolf Hawk replied.

He emerged on the other side of the wolf willows and now headed directly toward his grandfather’s large tepee, which cast a huge shadow all around it as it sat in the bright moonlight.

“Mia, I promise that you will be well,” Wolf Hawk again reassured her. “Soon.”

“I…trust…you,” Mia murmured. She again licked her parched lips. “I…even trust…your grandfather because he is your kin.”

“Mia, you need trust and faith now more than ever before. You must feel both for my grandfather’s magic to work on you,” Wolf Hawk said, stopping right outside his grandfather’s closed entrance flap.

“Magic?” Mia said, her eyes widening. “He is going to use magic to make me well?”

“Do not let that word bring fear back into your heart,” Wolf Hawk said thickly. “Just think good things and good things will happen to you.”

“I will,” Mia said, watching now as Wolf Hawk spoke his grandfather’s name.

Scarcely breathing, she waited and watched for the entrance flap to be drawn aside. When it was, she found herself gazing at the oldest person she had ever seen. The Shaman stood there in what looked like a bearskin robe, his gray hair worn in one long braid down his back.

He was a tiny man, much shorter than his grandson Wolf Hawk. He seemed to have shrunk from old age, and his face was furrowed with many wrinkles.

But in the moon’s glow she saw eyes that did not show any signs of age. Instead they were dark and brilliant.

And as she gazed into them, she saw kindness, even wisdom. She felt that she was right not to fear him.

“Grandfather, this woman is in need of your curative powers,” Wolf Hawk said, realizing immediately that his grandfather was hesitant to ask him and Mia into his lodge.

He understood.

No whites had ever been on this island, nor even in their village, which had purposely been established far from any white man’s home.

And now? His grandson had actually brought one of the white eyes to his private island?

Ho
, Yes, Wolf Hawk understood his grandfather’s hesitance. But for the first time in his life, Wolf Hawk would prove his grandfather wrong about something.

He must, for the life of this woman Wolf Hawk cared so deeply for lay in the balance.

“Grandfather, this is a friend and she is in need of your help,” Wolf Hawk said thickly.

“She is white,” Talking Bird said flatly. “Her skin is the color of our enemy’s.”

“Although her skin is white, she is special to me,” Wolf Hawk admitted. “And she is not our enemy. She is a friend, a friend who seeks help from someone who has the power to heal her.”

Talking Bird continued to stand in his doorway,
blocking Wolf Hawk’s entrance into his medicine lodge.

Slowly Wolf Hawk lowered Mia to the ground, laying her on a thick bed of moss that stretched out, like soft silk, around his grandfather’s lodge. It had been purposely removed from the forest floor and planted there by Wolf Hawk for his grandfather’s comfort.

Wolf Hawk gazed up at his grandfather. “I will show you,” he said thickly.

Then Wolf Hawk gazed into Mia’s eyes, which were once again filled with fear at the way she had been received by Wolf Hawk’s Shaman grandfather.

She was white. She had a reason to be afraid.

It was up to Wolf Hawk to make both his grandfather and his woman feel more comfortable with each other so that Mia could be healed.

Wolf Hawk slowly lifted the hem of her dress to reveal Mia’s swollen, seeping legs to his grandfather. “She found herself in the midst of poison vine and she is now ill from her reaction to it,” he said, again gazing up at his grandfather.

He exhaled with relief when he saw the caring in his grandfather’s eyes that Wolf Hawk was accustomed to.

His grandfather understood the urgency of Mia’s condition. He would treat her, even though her skin was white. Wolf Hawk had been sure his grandfather would never have turned away someone who so desperately needed his help.

Talking Bird stepped aside and held the flap open so Wolf Hawk could enter. “Go inside,” he said, his voice filled with true concern. “Take her with you. I will do what I can for the woman.”

Mia sighed with relief.

She smiled up at the elderly man.

“Thank you,” she murmured, oh, so glad that these Winnebago Indians knew the English language as well as they did. It made things much easier for her. “Thank you so much.”

“My name is Talking Bird,” the Shaman said, gently smiling now at Mia. “By what name are you called?”

“Mia,” she murmured.

She felt again the wonder of Wolf Hawk’s muscled arms as he swept her up from the beautifully soft moss.

She lay there trustingly in his arms as he carried her inside. Talking Bird followed and gestured with a frail hand toward several pelts that were spread out on the floor near the fire.

“I will see her better beside the fire,” Talking Bird said. He gazed up at the smoke hole overhead, glad that the moon was as bright tonight as it was, for it, too, lent him more light by which to work his magic.

Wolf Hawk very gently laid Mia on the pelts, then stood back and rested himself on his haunches as his grandfather approached Mia and examined her legs more closely.

“My tobacco bag,” Talking Bird said, glancing over at Wolf Hawk.

Understanding that his grandfather wished to offer tobacco to the spirits before he used his medicine on Mia, Wolf Hawk reached behind him and grabbed the drawstring pouch, then gave it to Talking Bird.

He sat down then, folded his legs before him, rested his hands on his knees and watched. He hoped that what his grandfather was going to do wouldn’t bring fear back to Mia’s heart.

He was glad that she was alert now, aware of her surroundings, and of those she was with. She needed to be awake to see with her own eyes what was being done.

When Mia looked quickly over at him, he smiled and nodded.

His smile seemed to reassure her. She returned it and relaxed even more.

She now gazed up at Talking Bird, patiently awaiting whatever he was going to do.

Her eyes widened when he opened the pouch and took out some of the tobacco, then laid the pouch aside and held the tobacco above the fire.

Instead of smoking the tobacco, he held it aloft, and looked directly into Mia’s eyes.

“I will heal you, white woman, but you must also help yourself,” Talking Bird said slowly. “You are stronger than you think. The spirits know this, and you must believe it, too. As I make the offering of tobacco, remember what I have said. Believe it.”

Mia wasn’t sure what she should do…nod…or just wait and see what came next.

She chose to give the old Shaman a nod and a smile, then watched and listened.

She was quite taken by the gentleness of his voice and by his efforts on her behalf.

“
Ha-
ho
,” Talking Bird said as he scattered the tobacco over the fire. “Fire, accept this offering of tobacco. Long ago, when I first learned of the magic that was given to me to use, you promised me aid if I offered you tobacco. Now I make that offering. I need your help to save this woman. Without your aid, she will die. This tobacco is my gift to you, and I pray that in return you will give her the gift of full health.”

He took up more tobacco in his hand and again scattered it into the flames, but this time there was a response. The flames sputtered and sent sparks flying heavenward.

He smiled, for he knew that he had been heard. The purifying smoke had driven away the evil spirits that had caused the white woman to become ill. And this was good, for he had not been certain that the spirits that guided his people’s lives would do the same for this woman, because she was a stranger and her skin was white.

Mia scarcely breathed as she watched what the Shaman would do next. He took several wooden vials from the many that he had placed on the floor around the base of his tepee.

She watched him take a wooden bowl and pour different liquids from the vials into it. Then he came to her and sat down beside her.

“I will now apply an herbal poultice to your
legs to relieve your discomfort,” Talking Bird said, not hesitating to smooth the liquid over her rash. Mia gasped that he showed no fear of getting the terrible poison ivy himself.

“You can’t,” she suddenly said, scooting away from him. “You don’t want this on your body. Please…”

“I do not fear such things,” Talking Bird said, spreading the medicine across her legs. “I am protected by the spirits.” He gazed over his shoulder at Wolf Hawk. “As is my grandson.”

Mia glanced quickly past Talking Bird, at Wolf Hawk. Talking Bird’s statement reminded her about seeing Wolf Hawk step from that mysterious mist, appearing from nowhere.

She could not help thinking that there were mysterious things happening that she might never understand. But no matter what she might suspect, it did not alter her feelings for Wolf Hawk.

In fact, as each moment passed, she cared more and more for him. It was not just gratitude. She was in love with him.

She had been so lost in thought, she hadn’t realized that Talking Bird had finished putting the medicine on her legs, and had left her side for a moment. He returned carrying a wooden bowl.

She gazed questioningly at the bowl.

“I have brought you a bowl of Saskatoon berry broth to drink,” he said. He held it aloft in the smoke over the fire, then offered it to her. “Drink. This, too, will make your body heal.”

Unsure of drinking something that she had never heard of before, Mia didn’t accept it.

Seeing her hesitance, Wolf Hawk went and leaned over to help Mia up to a sitting position.

“You must drink what is being offered you,” Wolf Hawk softly encouraged. He took the bowl from his grandfather and placed it up close to Mia’s lips. “Open your mouth. I shall help you.”

“I…don’t…know,” Mia said, still hesitating.

Having unfamiliar medicine put on the outside of her body was one thing. But drinking it was something else. She was afraid of what she did not understand.

“You have put your trust in both myself and my grandfather. Why do you hesitate to drink something that will help your healing?” Wolf Hawk asked.

He gazed directly into her eyes.

He was glad when he saw trust returning to them, and was even happier when she smiled.

She turned to look into Talking Bird’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I did not mean to look as though I don’t trust you. Of course, I will drink your medicine.”

She took the bowl from Wolf Hawk, and even though she was still afraid of it, she drank it, glad at least that it had a sweet, pleasant taste.