Savage Autumn (13 page)

Joanna saw the Indians urge their horses forward to cross the river and she looked about for Windhawk, but he was nowhere in sight. When Joanna was halfway across the wide river, Windhawk appeared at her side. He did not look at her, but merely kept pace with her horse.

She could see the large number of people standing on the opposite shore, waving and shouting. She felt fear and uncertainty, wondering what would become of her once they reached the village. She glanced sideways at Windhawk, but he was staring straight ahead. She could almost feel his tension, and wondered what he could be thinking.

When they rode out of the water, they were met by many smiling faces. Windhawk’s horse reared on its hind legs but he quickly brought it under control.

Joanna was receiving several curious stares, and she tried to act unconcerned, but her heart was drumming with fear.

Windhawk dismounted and was quickly surrounded by his
people. It was apparent they were happy to see him. Joanna waited tensely, not knowing what to expect.

Suddenly the crowd began to move aside, and Joanna saw two women move toward Windhawk. The first woman was older and Joanna thought she might be his mother, but the second one seemed even younger than herself, and was very lovely. First the elder woman embraced Windhawk, and they talked for a moment before he turned to the younger one. Joanna could see his eyes sparkle as the young Indian maiden threw herself into his arms. He laughingly picked her up and hugged her tightly. There was little doubt in Joanna’s mind that this was his wife.

All at once Joanna became the center of attention. Young children plucked at her clothing, and the older women poked at her body. One woman grabbed a handful of Joanna’s hair and yanked so hard that she cried out in pain.

Strong arms moved the women aside, and Windhawk lifted Joanna from her horse.

“No one will touch this woman. She belongs to me,” he commanded in a loud voice.

Although Joanna couldn’t understand Windhawk’s words, she was grateful that he had apparently made her tormentors move away from her.

Windhawk spoke to his mother. “You will take this maiden to my lodge, my mother.”

Joanna’s eyes met dark, hostile eyes. It was very clear that the older woman did not like her at all. She took Joanna by the arm and pushed her in front of her as the others moved aside to allow them to pass. They walked past many tipis until they came to the center of the village where a huge lodge stood.

The woman gave Joanna a shove, and she went flying through the opening to land face down on the floor. Joanna was grateful for the soft buffalo hide that cushioned her fall.

This was not what Joanna termed a rousing welcome. She could feel this woman’s hatred and hostility which was directed at her. If Windhawk’s mother felt dislike for her, how would his wife react to her, she wondered.

She stood up and flung her head back proudly, daring the woman to touch her again.

The Indian woman pointed to a corner of the lodge, indicating that Joanna should sit down. After a long silent moment Joanna thought it might be best if she did as the woman wanted.

Moments later the flap was thrown aside and the younger girl entered. “My brother has asked that you come to him,” Morning Song said to her mother, while stealing a glance at the beautiful white woman.

“My son will hear angry words from me for bringing this white one into our lodge,” Sun Woman said, pushing past her daughter.

When her mother had gone, Morning Song walked slowly over to Joanna. She had heard her brother say that this was to be his woman. She picked up a waterskin and approached Joanna cautiously. Morning Song did not have to be told that her brother loved this woman. She had seen the tender look in his eyes when he had looked at her. She stared in wonder at the red-gold hair that graced the girl’s beautiful head.

Morning Song’s eyes were shining and bright, and a slight smile eased her face. She could tell that the white girl was frightened, and she wanted to tell her that no one would harm her.

Morning Song held the waterskin out to Joanna, who took it and raised it to her lips, taking a deep drink.

“Thank you,” Joanna said, handing the waterskin back to the girl. Joanna looked into the soft brown eyes and saw compassion there; somehow they reminded her of Windhawk’s eyes.

Joanna could easily see why Windhawk had chosen this girl as his wife. She was small-boned and petite. Her dark hair was unbraided, and her face was lovely. On closer inspection, Joanna realized the girl was not as old as she had first thought. She could be no more than thirteen or fourteen. Surely she was too young to be a wife.

“You are welcome,” Morning Song replied in very good English. “My name is Morning Song, what is yours?” The only
white women Morning Song had ever seen had been teachers at the mission school she had attended. None of them had been either young or beautiful.

“My name is Joanna. I am so grateful that you speak English. It seems like so long since I have had another female to talk with.”

“Your name is very beautiful,” Morning Song said, sitting down cross-legged beside Joanna. “Does it have a meaning?”

“Yes, it means a gift from God.”

Morning Song nodded. “I have been taught about your God at the mission school. He is very fearful, is he not?”

Joanna smiled and her eyes lit up. “He is also very compassionate.”

“Are you hungry, Joanna?”

Joanna knew if she took a bite of anything at this point it would stick in her throat. “No, thank you. I am sorry to intrude on you, but as you can see, I had very little choice in the matter.”

Morning Song took Joanna’s hand. “You are welcome in the lodge of Windhawk.”

The lodge was filled with the delicious aroma of roasting buffalo meat and wild onions, sizzling over the cook-fire. Joanna looked about the lodge with interest. To her surprise, she found it was neat and clean. A pile of buffalo robes was stacked in one corner, and there were shields, spears, and several quivers of arrows hanging from the lodgepole. She refused to look at what she knew to be human scalps.

There seemed to be no evidence of children about. Perhaps Windhawk and Morning Song were childless.

Joanna’s eyes strayed to the blue sky that was visible through the opening at the top of the lodge. She must bide her time. Surely there would be an opportunity to escape.

Windhawk was tethering his horse when his mother approached. He secured the rawhide strap about the horse’s forelegs, and then stood up, smiling at Sun Woman.

“It has been many moons since I have looked upon your face, my mother. It is good to be home.”

Sun Woman’s eyes softened as she looked at her tall, handsome son. Her pride in him was great, for he was a powerful chief and was well loved by all his people. But she was not happy that he had brought the white woman to the village, and she was angry that he said the flaming-haired one was his woman. There were many young maidens from wealthy, influential families who would gladly be wife to her son. She had waited many years for Windhawk to choose a wife, but not a white one—never a white one!

“The days have been many since you departed, my son. I thank the great Napi that you have safely returned.”

“You have seen to the comfort of my woman?” he asked.

“I put her in your lodge as you said, but I do not like to look upon the white-face.”

Windhawk frowned, knowing that his mother, like all his people, had no love for the white race. Until he had seen Joanna, he had felt the same. “Joanna is not like the others, my mother. You will see this for yourself when you come to know her. She is brave, yet kind. Strong, yet gentle. In time you will grow to love her as a daughter.”

Sun Woman would have liked to say she would never love the white-faced woman, but Windhawk was not only her son, he was also her chief, and his words were law. “Is it your wish that your sister and myself follow the custom and move into another lodge?”

“Yes, but not for a while. I want you and Morning Song to help Jo-anna become accustomed to our ways.”

Sun Woman was still a very beautiful woman, and her gray-streaked hair did not detract from her beauty. She stood straight and proud, but she felt no pride in her heart at that moment. Her son would shame her in front of the whole tribe by taking the white girl as his woman. No one would say anything, but they would think it. She feared there would be trouble ahead for them all.

“Shall I go and prepare your bridal bed, my son?”

He placed his hand on her arm. “No, there will be no bridal bed. Our ways are new to Jo-anna, and while you are teaching her about our customs, I will teach her to trust me.”

Sun Woman’s eyes narrowed. How dare the white woman keep her son, the chief, waiting! she thought angrily. “Would it not be better to sleep with the woman without making her your wife? She will never be one of us.”

Windhawk knew what his mother was feeling. He knew she would not easily accept Joanna, but with time she would grow to love her, just as in time, Joanna would learn to trust him.

“I love her, my mother. You know I have not loved before, nor will I love again. For me there is only Jo-anna.”

Joanna could tell by the paling light that it was nearing evening. She had not moved from the buffalo robe where she had been told to wait by the older Indian woman.

Morning Song had left the lodge, and the older woman had returned. Every so often she would cast a furtive glance in Joanna’s direction.

Joanna’s legs were feeling cramped, so she stood up. The Indian woman detected her movements and started speaking rapidly and pointing back to the robe, indicating that Joanna should remain where she was.

“No, I will not,” Joanna said, standing her ground. “I am weary of you Indians telling me what to do,” she said defiantly.

Sun Woman could not understand Joanna’s words. Her son and daughter could speak the white man’s language, but she had never had any desire to learn it. She frowned at the flaming-haired girl who dared defy her. Her son might be taken in by the girl’s beauty, but she wasn’t as easily fooled as Windhawk.

Sun Woman arose and crossed to the girl. Taking her by the shoulders, she tried to force her to sit down once more. Her dark eyes collided with hostile violet eyes, and in that moment Joanna and Sun Woman both knew they were adversaries.
Both were strong-willed and determined, and neither of them would yield to the other.

Joanna shrugged the woman’s hands from her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips. “If only you Indians could learn to ask nicely! Must you always force your will on others? You would definitely benefit from some social graces.”

“Kyai-yi,”
Sun Woman said, showing surprise that the white girl displayed so much courage. Was this girl a fool that she did not know she was defying the mother of the chief?

Several moments passed while they both sized each other up. At last Sun Woman gave Joanna a shove which landed her none too gently on the buffalo robe.

When Joanna could catch her breath, she rolled over and scrambled to her knees. Her eyes flashed dangerously as she slowly stood up.

“I have never struck another human being in my life, but if you ever do that again, I won’t hesitate to defend myself,” Joanna said angrily.

Sun Woman motioned once more for Joanna to sit down, but Joanna shook her head. At that moment Morning Song entered the lodge, and she quickly assessed the situation.

“My brother is coming,” she told her mother.

“Then he can deal with this white-faced one,” Sun woman said, returning to the cook-fire to see to her son’s food.

“I will not stand for that woman’s high-handed treatment,” Joanna said to Morning Song.

Morning Song placed her hand on Joanna’s arm. “I wish that you could be patient with her. She is a good and loving woman, but she clings to the old ways. Give her time and she will love you.”

“I don’t ask her love! I don’t even care if she likes me. I only want her to leave me alone.”

Morning Song’s eyes were wide with surprise. “Do you not want the regard of Windhawk’s mother?”

Joanna sat down, too weary to argue. “I only want to go home.”

All at once the air seemed charged with electricity as Windhawk swept into the lodge. His eyes went first to Joanna. From what he could see, the three women he loved most in life were adjusting well to each other. He leaned over his mother’s shoulder.

“I see that you have prepared my favorite meal, my mother. I have not eaten so well since I left home.”

Sun Woman was still angry, and it showed in her voice. She motioned at Joanna with a nod of her head. “I do not think you will ever train that one to prepare your meals, my son. I think she will be useless.”

Windhawk smiled and touched him mother’s head. “I have confidence that you will teach her all she needs to know.”

“She is insolent and does not take orders.”

Windhawk’s eyes blazed with admiration as he looked at Joanna. “Yes, she is all that and more.”

Joanna glared at Windhawk. Did he expect her to sleep in the lodge with him, his wife, and his mother? What would she do when he retired for the night with Morning Song? This was a big tipi, but there would be very little privacy.

Morning Song touched Joanna’s hand. “I know what you are feeling. Our ways are new to you. I would be just as lost as you, should I be taken to your world.”

Joanna could not help but be touched by the lovely Indian girl. Somehow she envied her for being the wife of Windhawk.

“Do you love Windhawk very much?” she asked.

Morning Song’s eyes went to her brother, who had sat down while her mother served him the buffalo meat. “Yes, he is the most wonderful man I know. I love him very much.”

“Would it bother you should he take another wife?” Joanna wanted to know.

Morning Song looked at Joanna with a puzzled expression. “I do not think you should worry about that. Windhawk has never before loved another woman. I do not think he will take any other wife. There are many beautiful maidens from powerful families who would like to be his wife, but he has never looked at them.”

Joanna closed her eyes. What would Morning Song think if she knew that Windhawk had made love to her while declaring his love for her? He was completely faithless.