Restoring
Hope
Ruth Ann Nordin
Ruth Ann Nordin’s Books
Springfield, Nebraska
Restoring Hope - Smashwords Edition
Published by Ruth Ann Nordin at Smashwords
Copyright © 2010 by Ruth Ann Nordin
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Editing by Stephannie Beman
Cover made by Bonnie Steffens
Cover Photo images Copyright Shutterstock Images LLC. All rights reserved – used with permission.
Cover Photo images Copyright iStockphoto LP. iStockphoto.com/eyecrave LLC All rights reserved – used with permission.
Cover Photo images Copyright Getty Images. All rights reserved – used with permission.
Dedicated to Bonnie Steffens who has brightened up my life. May God bless you and your family as you have blessed me.
And thank you for making the cover!
Other books written by Ruth Ann Nordin
The Nebraska Romances (chronological order)
A Bride for Tom/A Husband for Margaret (two novellas in one book)
Eye of the Beholder
The Wrong Husband
His Redeeming Bride
Loving Eliza
Other Historical Romances
Falling In Love With Her Husband
Romancing Adrienne
A Chance In Time (novella inspired by Meant To Be)
Contemporary Romantic Comedies
With This Ring, I Thee Dread
What Nathan Wants (coming late-summer 2010)
Time Travel Romantic Comedy
Meant To Be
The Virginia Trilogy
An Unlikely Place for Love
The Cold Wife
An Inconvenient Marriage
Quick Author’s Note:
In United States’ history, Native Americans were referred to as Indians. (I realize some of my readers are from India, and I do not wish for there to be any confusion. When I refer to Indians in this story, it is for North American Indians.)
Regarding the Okipe Ceremony, the Mandan tribe celebrated this after the first of August after they moved north. Originally, their tribes were further south in the United States, and they celebrated the Okipe Ceremony in early summer. (This is why some sources site early summer for this celebration.) Since this story takes place in North Dakota, I am going by the later celebration date. I base my research for this and other Mandan facts from the book The North American Indian (volume 5) written and published by Edward S. Curtis (1909).
Added May 30, 2010: I just came across a book called Mandan Social and Ceremonial Organization by Alfred W. Bowers (1950). The reprint in 2004 with foreword by Gerard Baker of this book was my direct copy. I learned that Okipe Ceremony (aka. Okipa Ceremony) was last performed at about 1890 (page 105). However, for this book, I thought it would be fun to put it in as a reenactment because it is a fascinating ceremony. Since the ceremony lasted four days, I decided to give a glimpse of the first day the ceremony was performed. And though no women were allowed in the lodge during the real ceremony (page 124), I figured for the reenactment (and because it’s crucial for a certain character and the plot that leads into the next book), I decided to allow women who wished to see the reenactment enter the lodge. (Yes, I am taking some liberty as the author, but I have endeavored to stay authentic to the actual ceremony itself.)
Chapter One
September 1897
Woape closed her eyes and forced her breathing to return to normal. If they heard her, they’d find her hiding place. She took deep breaths and counted backwards from a hundred. By the time she reached eighty, her heart rate slowed.
She opened her eyes and scanned the clearing in the moonlight. The tree bark dug into her skin, but she didn’t dare let go of the large branch stable enough to hold her weight. Thankfully, the leaves hid her. She just hoped it hid her well enough.
She heard a horse neigh and tightened her arms and legs around the branch. Biting her lip so she wouldn’t inadvertently cry out, she drew blood. She ignored the sting and the metallic taste.
Be quiet. Just be still.
The three hunters spread out, their bows drawn. The steeds methodically made their way along the quiet prairie. They were getting closer. And she’d run out of options. This was the last place she’d found to avoid them.
Gulping, she drew a shaky breath. She couldn’t afford to lose heart now. Not when all they had to do was pass under her and keep their pursuit across the land. A coyote howled in the distance, but she kept her ears tuned into what the hunter moving in her direction was saying.
“She’s not here,” Tecumseh said, keeping his voice low.
“She’s here. She has to be,” Hothlepoya replied. “There’s nowhere else she could have gone.”
She shivered at the chill in Hothlepoya’s voice. Why couldn’t they just go? What made her so special anyway?
“I don’t see her horse,” Tecumseh said. “She wouldn’t abandon it.”
Hothlepoya and Tecumseh stopped their horses beneath her tree and studied their surroundings. She held her breath. They were right there! If they looked up...
Oh please don’t let them look up!
Who she made that request to, she didn’t know, but maybe whatever was out there guiding the fates of people was listening to her pleas now.
“Hothlepoya! Look!” the third Indian called out.
Woape’s gaze followed the trail he pointed at, and she shifted her weight slightly to get a good view of the man leading the mare she’d let loose. She felt her heart rate accelerate. What was he doing? Who was he? Why was he doing it? She glanced back at the two men below her who nudged their horses in his direction. Did the stranger just buy her some time?
“That’s Woape’s horse,” Tecumseh said. “Maybe the white man has her.”
Hothlepoya nodded. “Maybe.”
“Shouldn’t she be on the horse?”
“Not if he hurt her. The white man can’t be trusted.”
“You’re right.”
Hothlepoya pulled out an arrow and got it ready. “We won’t take our chances.”
The other two men followed suit and the three made their way over to the stranger who stopped as they approached. Whatever reprieve the white man had granted her was a temporary one.
But what should she do about it? Was there really any way to escape? Hothlepoya was an expert hunter, and the North Dakota prairie spanned for miles in every direction. No. She couldn’t leave her hiding place. Her best chance was to stay in the tree and hope he and his two friends would continue their pursuit elsewhere.
She leaned forward slightly so she could see what the three were doing with the white man. They were too far for her to hear, but Hothlepoya lowered his bow and arrow—an indication that the white man wasn’t the threat they feared. She wished she could hear them.
The white man shrugged and pointed behind him. That was the direction her horse went when she let the mare loose. He turned his attention back to the three Indians and handed the rope to Hothlepoya.
She realized her left arm had gone numb, so she shifted but a squirrel hopped onto her branch and startled her. Shrieking, she lost her balance and fell to the side. She managed to catch hold of the branch but the damage was done. They’d heard her.
The four men turned their gazes in her direction. She dropped to her feet, landing hard on a tree root jutting out of the ground. Ignoring the pain in her thigh, she bolted to her feet and ran. It was stupid. She knew it was stupid. There was no way she could outrun the horses, but instinct kicked into high gear and she wasn’t thinking rationally. All she could think of was escaping.
They came after her. The sound of horses’ hooves pounding into the ground thundered in her ears. A gunshot rang through the air. The horses came to an abrupt stop, and she dropped into the grass. She’d heard a gunshot only once in her life and it meant bad things. Unsure if she wanted to know what was happening, she looked over her shoulder.
The white man yelled something and waved his gun at the other men who were six feet behind her. The white man moved his horse in their direction at a cautious pace. He yelled again, his authoritative tone startling her.
Hothlepoya glanced at her and their eyes met. There was no denying the animosity in his gaze. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to breathe. When the white man barked an order at him, he finally broke eye contact with her and backed the steed up.
She looked at the white man, trying to determine his motive. He couldn’t know what was going on. Hothlepoya would never tell him the truth.
She tried to make out what the stranger looked like in the moonlight, but his hat fell too low over his eyes and the shadow of his beard hid most of his face. He spoke to her in gentle tones, forcing her mind back to the moment. He pointed the gun at Hothlepoya and pointed to her with his free hand.
She struggled with what to do. If she understood what he was saying, it’d help her make a decision. She knew Hothlepoya would hurt her, but the white man... He didn’t appear to be a mean man, and he obviously wasn’t siding with Hothlepoya. But really...what did she know about him? Nothing.
She glanced at Hothlepoya whose fingers twitched on his bow and arrow resting in his lap. If she went with him, she knew what her fate would be. If she went with the white man, she didn’t know what would happen. But it couldn’t be worse than what Hothlepoya would do. And she’d never outrun any of them, regardless of their intents.
Slowly getting to her feet, she said, “Help me.”
Hothlepoya gave a low growl.
The white man cocked his gun.
They started.
The stranger tipped his hat back and that’s when she caught sight of his eyes. Kindness. That was the first thought that crossed her mind, and in that instant, she knew she could trust him.
He motioned to her horse and held his free hand out to Hothlepoya.
Tecumseh raised his bow and arrow.
Before she could warn the white man, he shot the bow out of Tecumseh’s hand.
“Did he get you?” Hothlepoya asked his friend.
“No, but he got close.” Tecumseh studied his broken bow and looked at Hothlepoya. “Too close.”
The white man said something to her in a gentle tone. Then he held out his hand again to Hothlepoya.
“We don’t have a choice,” Hothlepoya told his friends. “We must obey him.” He glanced at her. “You got lucky.”
She quickly averted her gaze from him.
He held the rope out to the white man who took it. He said something to her and motioned to the rope.
She wished she knew what he was saying, but all she had to go on were his actions. Nodding, she approached him, hastening her step past Hothlepoya’s horse which snorted at her, and took the rope. She mounted her mare.
The white man made a comment, and since he looked at the horse’s back and shook his head, she guessed it had something to do with the fact that she rode the animal bareback. He spoke to the three men and waved them in the direction she’d fled from. Home. She wondered if she’d see her father, brother, and sister ever again. She didn’t dare return anytime soon. Not with Hothlepoya near there.
She glanced at the white man and wondered if she should leave too. It seemed logical. He’d just given her a means to escape. She could go in the opposite direction and go to some other place. Somewhere far from home. She blinked back tears at the thought of leaving everything she’d ever known behind. But did Hothlepoya give her a choice?
She turned to the man who finally lowered his gun as the three men grew smaller in the distance.
He placed his gun into something that looked like a sack attached to a belt at his waist. Then he gave her a worried look.
She didn’t know what it meant, so she shrugged.
He smiled and spoke to her, and even laughed.
Unsure of what he wanted, she also smiled. Smiling was good, right? He was being friendly. If he meant to harm her, he would have. He had the gun, and she didn’t.
His head lowered and he made another comment. He took something out of the pouch hanging off his saddle and handed it to her. Then he returned his gaze to her and motioned to the land around them.
She studied the leather bag for a moment before she opened it. Food. At least that’s what it seemed to be from the smell of it. She couldn’t see it in the moonlight. Her heart warmed, for he had no reason to give a stranger food...or protection from Hothlepoya...but did. This man had a good heart. The heart of a warrior.
He waved to her and headed off in the direction from where she’d seen him coming.
She glanced over her shoulder, reassured that Hothlepoya wasn’t lurking behind her, and peered back into the pouch. She touched one of the hard pieces in the sack. Curious, she pulled one out and sniffed it. Meat. Dried. She bit a piece off, noting how tough it was. But it was edible and it didn’t taste bad. She put the rest of the meat into the pouch and closed it.
The white man led his horse in a leisurely pace. She bit her lower lip. Dare she go with him? What if Hothlepoya searched for her? Could she really afford to be without protection? Another glance over her shoulder showed her that the three Indians were now almost down the slight hill. Soon, they’d be out of her viewing range.
Taking a deep breath to release the nervous energy of her plight, she nudged her mare in the sides and directed her to follow the white man.
Chapter Two
Gary Milton was surprised when the young woman followed him. He expected her to run off. But she stayed with him, her horse a mere six feet behind his. Finally, he stopped and waited for her to catch up to him. She might as well ride beside him if she insisted on joining him.
She pulled back the rope halter on her horse as soon as she was three feet behind him.
He turned toward her. He almost asked her why she kept her distance but knew she didn’t understand his language. Sighing, he waved her forward.
Looking uncertain, she obeyed.
He nodded and led her to his campfire, noting she rode beside him this time. Once he dismounted, he went to help her from her pony, but she already slid from the bareback. He marveled at her skill on the animal but figured she’d probably learned to ride at an early age.
“You might as well rest.” He took the rope from her and led the two horses to where they would remain for the night.
She carried his leather sack and sat in front of the fire.
As he took care of the horses, he noted her appearance. She was young. Maybe sixteen or a little older. He wasn’t much older at twenty, but he wondered what the other Indians could possibly want with a young woman. What could she have possibly done to evoke their wrath? He’d never seen a woman that scared before. What was she doing—hiding in a tree? Well, this was one of those mysteries he’d never figure out. As soon as he made it to town, he’d find a place for her to stay and then she’d be safe.
When he returned to the site, he picked up a tin cup and poured water into it. He held it out to her. “Drink.”
She tucked her black hair behind her ear and looked up at him with her dark brown eyes before her gaze drifted to the cup.
“Water.” He made a drinking motion with his free hand and then pointed to her.
After a few seconds, she accepted the cup and sniffed the liquid in it.
He thought that was odd. For someone who was eager to follow him to his campsite, she sure did seem reluctant to take anything from him. Shrugging, he turned his attention to what their sleeping arrangements would be. He only had a bedroll. Well, she’d get it. He would make do on the grass. A quick scan of the area showed him they were alone. He didn’t think the Indians would come after them, but he decided he’d stay alert, just in case. So he wouldn’t need the bedroll anyway.
“You sleep here,” he told her and patted the bedding.
She wrinkled her brow so he closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. When he opened his eyes, she nodded and said a word that he guessed meant ‘sleep’. Turning her attention to the cup, she finally took a sip.
“Water,” he said, pronouncing the word slowly.
She took a long drink.
He poured more water into her cup and sat against a tree not too far from her. The night was quiet except for the occasional howling in the distance and singing of crickets. He forced himself to relax. The Indians weren’t returning. Still, to be on the safe side, he kept his gun close to his side.
To his surprise, after she set the cup down, she picked up the bedroll and walked over to him. She placed the bedroll right next to him and settled into it.
“Go to the fire,” he said, pointing to it. “Fire. Warm.”
She shook her head and spoke in her language.
He sighed. What was he supposed to do? This was the best lookout point in the immediate vicinity, but he couldn’t have her away from the campfire on a September night, even if she was in the bedroll.
He glanced at her. He was committed to her now. It wasn’t something he minded. He was glad that she was alive and safe. As soon as he got her to town and talked to his family about where she would continue to be safe, he could continue on to his next job.
Again, he looked out at the vacant prairie. He didn’t notice anything suspicious. His horse remained quiet.
Returning his gaze to her, he realized that she fully intended to sleep right beside him, for she had already closed her eyes.
Well, he couldn’t let this happen. It was chilly and the last thing she needed was to get sick. What would be the point of saving her from whatever it was those Indians had in mind if he let her get ill? He nudged her in the arm.
She opened her eyes.
He stood up and stepped toward the fire. “Come.” He waved her over and motioned to the spot where his bedroll had been.
She did as he bid and carried the bedroll back.
He picked up some more sticks and threw them into the fire. Another glance along the horizon showed they were safe. His gun was in his holster. He was prepared...or at least as prepared as he could be.
She didn’t lie back down. Instead, she watched him, as if judging what he’d do next. It became clear to him that she wasn’t going to sleep unless she was right beside him. Seeing that he had no choice since he wanted her to sleep, he sat on the ground close to where she stood. She finally set the bedroll down, but she put it right beside him again. She must have been scared if she was willing to sleep right by a stranger.
“You know, you’re lucky I don’t have a wife,” he told her. “She’d have a fit if she saw this.”
She furrowed her eyebrows.
He smiled to show her he was joking.
Her body relaxed and she returned his smile.
She was a pretty woman, he realized. Funny how all the commotion made him miss that little fact before. He shook his head and returned his attention to the land. He had more important things to think about, like Indians who might be making their way back.
She settled into the bedroll and turned her face to the campfire, her back pressing against his leg.
He shook his head again. She had absolutely no idea what something like that did to a man. Ignoring her soft body, he kept his focus on the horse and the surrounding land. It wasn’t until the moon started descending into the clear sky that he finally fell asleep.
***
Woape woke the next morning to the sunlight hitting her eyes. She winced and rolled over. The ground beneath her was rough. Where was she? Images flashed through her mind. An axe.. blood.. Hothlepoya...
She jerked up, gasping. She quickly examined her surroundings. Prairie land spanned as far as the eye could see. The campfire had gone out. The two horses munched the grass. Everything was peaceful, so she could relax. Still, the previous night hadn’t been a nightmare. What was she going to do?
She looked at the man sleeping next to her. She was safe with him. He wouldn’t let Hothlepoya hurt her. She’d stay with him, wherever he went. He had a gun and he knew how to use it, so if Hothlepoya came looking for her, hoping she was alone and defenseless, she’d be better off if she was with someone who knew how to scare him off. She’d never seen anyone who could stand up to Hothlepoya before.
She stood and quietly made her way to a remote area where she could relieve her bladder. When she returned to the bedroll, she saw that the white man was getting ready to get on his horse. She ran over to him. Did he plan to leave her behind?
She grabbed the back of his shirt. “Please don’t leave. Let me come with you.”
The white man turned and looked relieved. He motioned to the land around them and said something.
Her only indication that he wasn’t intending to leave her behind was the fact that he seemed happy to see her. She relaxed.
He took her by the arm and led her to where they had slept. She watched him as he dug out another tin cup and poured water for both of them. She accepted the cup from him and drank the refreshing liquid. She wanted to thank him, but she didn’t know how and even as she smiled her appreciation at him, it seemed an insufficient way to express her gratitude.
He pulled out some pieces of the food he’d offered her the night before and held out a couple to her.
Her growling stomach insisted she take it. She nodded and took them from him, no longer hesitant on accepting anything from him. If he wanted to hurt her, he would have already done so.
She bit into the salted meat. It didn’t taste bad. In fact, it tasted pretty good. She wondered if this was what white people ate. She knew so little of the white culture since she’d spent her life among her tribe. A momentary wave of homesickness came over her. Her father, sister and brother must miss her. It didn’t matter now. She was long gone and would never return. For now on, her life would be in a strange new world, with this nice white man.
After they ate, he got his things ready for his horse, so she followed suit. She joined him as he rode out along the prairie in the morning light. The air was still cool, but she knew by midday, the temperature would warm. Though the season was changing, summer was reluctant in leaving. Since she didn’t know his language, and he didn’t know hers, they remained quiet. She was content to listen to the melodic singing of the birds.
As the distance from her home grew greater, the tension in her body eased. If the white man took her far enough north, then maybe she’d never have to worry about Hothlepoya ever again. That would be good. Then she’d be safe.
She glanced over her shoulder. A couple of deer leapt across the land. It was peaceful. Just like her world had been a few days ago. She closed her eyes and sighed. She hoped her family would fare well without her.
She wiped the tears away and forced her attention to what was in front of her. This was her future. She wondered where it led. Well, she was about to find out. She decided she wouldn’t look back anymore. All the wishing in the world wasn’t going to erase what happened. For better or worse, her course was set with this stranger. She didn’t believe in coincidences. Her parents taught her that everything happened for a reason.
And so she set her mind on what was to come and followed the man. When evening came, she helped him with the campfire. By this time, she knew what to expect from him. He didn’t say much but he did say some words that were beginning to sound familiar, though she couldn’t remember what word meant what. She figured that such knowledge would come in time.
The journey took a total of three days before they ran into another human being. And as soon as there was one, there came another and another until they entered a place he called “town”. She examined the buildings that lined the dusty road. A quick scan through the unfamiliar faces revealed that there was no one like her. Everyone around her was white, just like the man she was with. They studied her, but she didn’t sense any animosity in their stares. They were curious. She wondered if they’d ever seen a Mandan Indian before. Maybe they hadn’t seen Indians at all.
She moved her horse closer to the man, finding his presence comforting in the sea of unfamiliar faces. The people spoke in tones she recognized as questions. They were probably wondering where she came from, who she was, and what she was doing with one of their own. Though she was now surrounded by people, she never felt more alone in her entire life. She was different. Would she ever fit in? This was her new home. She hoped she could find a place here, among these people.
The man said something to her, directing her attention back to him. He pointed to a house on the corner lot. It was a small house with a post out front for them to tie their horses to, which was what they did. He gently took her by the arm and led her forward.
She wondered who lived here, but she couldn’t ask him, at least not in a way he’d understand. When they reached the front door, she stepped closer to him.
He shifted a step away and opened the door. He called out a greeting and an older woman who looked old enough to be his mother ran out from another room. She shrieked and hugged him.
Surprised, Woape stood back. Another woman came running down a narrow staircase and took her turn hugging him. Woape bit her lower lip. This woman looked close to his age. Perhaps he was already married? Maybe he was married to this one.
He gave both women a big smile and turned their attention to Woape. They looked startled, as if they hadn’t noticed her standing right there watching them. He spoke to the women and gestured at them with excited movements. When he stopped speaking, they all looked at her.
She took a deep breath and smiled. She greeted them in her language and waited for them to respond.
Finally, the older woman smiled in return and walked over to her. She wrapped her arm around her and led her to a place to sit. The cushion was soft and comfortable. The woman said something to him and then turned back to Woape and patted her hand.
The woman’s kindness assured Woape that things would be alright. Woape tried to decipher what the woman might be saying and what the man answered, but none of it made any real sense to her. She just smiled and nodded whenever the woman asked something. She hoped she was acting appropriately.
The younger woman held back. She crossed her arms and didn’t speak.
Woape wondered if the white woman was married to the white man. That would explain the tension Woape felt when she looked at her. Woape glanced at the white man who continued speaking to the woman sitting next to her.
Suddenly, the woman next to her stood up and took her hand.
Woape also stood and followed the woman up the steps until they reached a small bedroom. Woape heard the woman downstairs and the man talking, but the tones were hushed so it was hard to determine if the woman was mad at him for bringing Woape there or not.
The older woman exited the room, so Woape began to follow but she shook her head and motioned for Woape to stay. Woape nodded and stayed in the room. She glanced around the room, noting the bed and other furnishings. The window overlooked the town where several people rode on their horses. She sighed. This was her new home. The white man had brought her here. She wondered if this would be her new room or if she might sleep somewhere else in this home. Whatever the situation would be, she’d be glad for it and do whatever they asked her. She’d earn her keep.
She turned at the sound of voices and watched as the older woman pointed to the center of the room. The man came in with a tub. They left and returned with pails of water which they dumped in the tub. The woman motioned for the man to leave so he did. Then the woman turned to a dresser and pulled out the drawer and took out a dress.
As she spoke, she went up to Woape and held the dress up to her and nodded. She rambled on as she grabbed a towel and set it by the tub. Woape got a warm feeling about the woman. The woman was one of the friendliest people she’d ever met. She set the dress on the back of a chair before she handed Woape a bowl with a bar of soap in it. She turned to the door and held up a brush, spoke again, and set the brush back on the dresser. Giggling, she waved and closed the door behind her.
Well, that was simple enough. The woman wanted Woape to take a bath. Woape could do that. She dipped her fingers into the warm water. Setting the bowl down next to the tub, she took off her dress, realizing she’d be putting on a white woman’s dress once she was done bathing. She realized this was more than changing clothes. She was about to change her entire life.
As she settled into the tub, she gave the matter no more thought. The future was ahead of her, and she was safe. Hothlepoya wouldn’t find her here. Now, she could relax.
Chapter Three
Gary glanced out the window and saw that the horses were doing fine.
“What were you thinking?”
He took his time in facing his older sister who came into the room. Her arms were crossed and a look of disapproval was on her usually pretty face. Leaning against the window, he shrugged. “What do you mean, what was I thinking? I already explained it to you.”
“Right. You found her on the run from members of her tribe.”
“No. I didn’t say that the Indians were members of her tribe. I just said they were Indians. There is more than one tribe in North Dakota.”
She shook her head and walked over to him. “Indians are savages. You’re lucky they didn’t scalp you alive.”
“I have a gun and I know how to use it, Julia. It wasn’t me I was worried about.”
She rolled her eyes as she smoothed her blond hair. “It’s not a smart move to bring her here. What if the savages come for her?”
“I made sure to keep a lookout for them. I didn’t venture back to my camp until I was sure they couldn’t see me.”
“I don’t know. They’re sneaky. They find ways to track people down.”
He groaned. “Will you stop?”
“Stop what?”
“Playing big sister. We’re not kids anymore. I can take care of myself.”
She didn’t look convinced, and that didn’t surprise him.
“I knew there was a reason I left,” he muttered under his breath.
She gave him a sharp look. “What was that?”
“You heard me.”
“I resent this, Gary. You left a year ago without giving us a real explanation-”
“I wrote a note.”
“A fine one it was too. ‘I have to discover who I am. I’ll be back when I figure it out.’ That could have meant anything.”
“Well, I didn’t know who I was or who I wanted to be with you hovering around me all the time telling me what to do.”
She gasped and pressed a hand over her heart. “Hovering around you?”
“Yes. Hovering.”
“I can’t believe this. I cooked your meals, cleaned your clothes-”
“Fought my battles.”
She blinked, as if surprised. “Fought your what?”
“You always stepped in and interfered where you shouldn’t have.”
“Are you talking about the incident with Harold?”
He stood up straight and took off his hat. In all the commotion, he forgot to take it off. He ran his hand through his hair that was a dark shade of blond. The mention of Harold always irritated him to no end. “No one wants their big sister beating up his bully for him.”
Her face grew red as she placed her hands on her hips. “I did no such thing!”
“Really? I wasn’t the one who gave him the black eye.”
“Oh. That incident.” She pressed her hand to her mouth and giggled.
“It’s not funny.”
“It was. Even today Harold runs in the opposite direction whenever he sees me.”
“Yes. He does that. But he and his friends still laugh whenever they see me coming.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Will you stop telling me that? I know when I’m being laughed at.”
“You’re imagining things. You were always a dreamer who lived in another world.”
“And it was up to you to keep me grounded in reality?”
Their aunt cleared her throat.
They stopped so they could turn in her direction.
“What a shame. Here, the prodigal son has come home, and all I hear is a bunch of bickering down here.” She clucked her tongue. “May God help us all.”
Julia stepped away from him and turned to their aunt. “She can’t stay here.”
“And why not?” Gary demanded.
“Enough,” Erin interrupted. “This is my home. I took you in when your parents died. I’ve raised you since you were ten,” she told Julia, “and you were three,” she told Gary. “I think of you as my own children. And ever since you’ve been here, you have been at odds with one another. I had hoped that when you grew up, the bickering would stop. Even with Gary gone for a year, the first thing you do when he comes home is criticize him.”
“I’m not criticizing him,” Julia argued, looking exasperated. “I’m being logical. Can’t you see how dangerous this is?”
“And what if that was you?” their aunt asked her. “Gary said three men were after her, and they had arrows ready to shoot at her. Don’t you understand that her life was in danger? Would you have preferred that she died?”
“That’s not what I meant. You don’t understand what I’m talking about. I’m saying that he should have saved her but sent her somewhere else. Surely, there is another place she can go to.”
Gary shook his head. “I gave her food and figured she would find a place to go. I assumed that she would go back to her tribe. But she didn’t. She followed me.” Not only did she follow him, but she hadn’t allowed him to get out of her sight until his aunt took her upstairs. “I don’t know what happened to her. I don’t know why those men were chasing her, but she doesn’t feel safe out there. For some reason, she only feels safe with me. Maybe she’ll feel safe with Aunt Erin.”
Aunt Erin approached him, a concerned look on her face. “Are you heading out again?”
He shrugged. “I only came here because of her.” He pointed up the stairs.
Julia huffed. “So you didn’t even care to come by here to see us.”
“I was on my way to Bismarck, alright? My last employer said that he knew someone out there who needed a farmhand. I figured I’d give it a try.”
“A full year you’ve been gone and you still don’t know what you want to do with your life?”
His face grew red. “And you wonder why I don’t want to be here? You wonder why I left?”
“Please,” their aunt began, groaning, “we have a scared young woman up there, and the last thing she needs is to deal with this. Let’s just look at what we can do for her now. Regardless of how you two feel about each other, it’s time to focus on someone else for a change.”
Gary rubbed his eyes and sighed. “You’re right. Look, I didn’t come here to cause trouble. I didn’t know where else to take her. I made sure that no one followed us. I was vigilant.”
Julia shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, I hope no one did follow you.”
Their aunt nodded. “It’s good that she’s here instead of wandering around by herself out there. We don’t want anything bad to happen to her.”
“What are we going to do with her?” Julia asked. She looked at Gary. “Are you going to run off again and leave us to figure out what to do with her?”
“I haven’t thought about it,” he admitted. When he saw Julia’s lips form a thin line, he continued, “All I could think about was getting her here, where she’ll be safe. I didn’t think beyond that. And don’t say it. I know. How typical of Gary. Acting first and thinking later.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Erin said. “You two need to get into different rooms before I get my broom and whack you both on the heads. You two will be the death of me yet.” She took a deep breath. “Gary, I need you to go out there and get those horses settled into the stable in town. I don’t have accommodations for animals of that size. Julia, I need you to go up there and help that woman get settled in. I’m going to prepare lunch.”
She cringed. “Why can’t I do the lunch?”
“Because this is my house, and it’d be good for you to get to know her.”
“How is that possible? Does she speak English?”
“Language is not that big of a barrier. Just imagine that you had nowhere to go and came into an unfamiliar place.”
“Really,” Gary agreed, “would it hurt you to think of someone else for a change?”
“I grew up thinking of you all of my life,” Julia retorted, stomping her foot on the floor. “I’ve cooked for you, done your laundry, took care of you when you were sick-”
Suddenly their aunt darted out of the room.
Both of them gasped. That could only mean one thing. Aunt Erin was getting her broom.
“Later, sis,” he said before he ran out of the house.
She ran up the stairs.
***
Woape put on the dress, feeling out of place with it on. It was nothing like the clothes she usually wore. It was another reminder that she was now in a new world. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at her reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall. She was a mess—one tangled, wet mess. She picked up the brush. Considering the fact that her hair reached her lower back, this was going to be a long and painful process.
The door opened and the second woman in the house slowly entered the room.
Woape stopped brushing her hair, unsure of what to make of the guarded look the woman gave her. She much preferred the older woman, but what choice did she have? She was at the mercy of these people. The woman approached her, and Woape took a step back. She said something, but of course, Woape had no idea what it was. Judging by the woman’s stiff posture, Woape knew the woman wasn’t happy to have her there.
The woman sighed in exasperation before she took the brush from Woape. She then reached out and unbuttoned the top button on Woape’s dress. Out of instinct, Woape slapped her hand away. How dare she!
The woman snapped at her before she slammed the brush on the dresser and yanked open the top drawer. She pulled out some white clothing and held them out to her while she continued talking to her in a frustrated or angry tone. Woape couldn’t tell which emotion the woman was feeling. Perhaps both.
When Woape shook her head, the woman rolled her eyes and lifted the hem of her skirt, showing Woape that she had similar clothing on. That was when Woape realized that the white garments were supposed to go under the dress. She reluctantly took the soft fabric from her and nodded. But if the woman thought Woape was going to undress while she was in the room staring at her, she had another thing coming.
The woman didn’t look convinced that Woape understood her but didn’t make a move to remove Woape’s dress, so Woape didn’t protest when she picked up the brush and started working it through her hair. Even if the woman wasn’t happy with the fact that the white man brought Woape here, Woape was glad she was gentle as she worked the tangles out of her hair.
Woape watched her in the mirror. She wished she could ask the woman if she was married to the white man. Then she could assure her that nothing had happened between them, in case that was what worried her. It was a shame if he was already married. She didn’t know him. Not really. At least not well enough to have certain thoughts about him. And yet...
She returned her gaze to the woman who was almost finished. Woape refused to act on any feelings that were beginning to emerge. She’d snuff them out before they had the ability to take root in her heart. It was a simple matter really. Yes, the man was kind and brave. But he belonged to someone else, and she could honor that. She would honor that. All she needed was a place to stay and food to eat. She’d find a way to prove herself useful to this woman and the older one who lived with the white man. As long as she never had to go back, she’d be fine.
The woman finished and set the brush down. Woape touched her soft hair. The woman had done a good job. She smiled at her to express her thanks. The woman turned aside and opened the door and left the room. She quietly shut the door, leaving Woape alone again. This wasn’t going to be easy. She gulped the lump in her throat, refusing to let the woman’s cold manners affect her.
She’s afraid I came to take her husband from her. It’s not personal. It’s not who I am. When she realizes I’m not a threat to her, she’ll warm up to me. Just give it time.
She quickly undressed so she could put on the white undergarments before she put the dress back on. At least the clothes gave her a sense of warmth in the chilly room. She took a deep breath and walked to the door. Was she supposed to go to them or wait until someone came to get her? Her hand rested on the doorknob and she debated the consequences of either action. Finally, she decided to test her luck and go to them.
Her bare feet fell softly on the wooden steps. She heard two women talking in the kitchen, and as she turned to go there, the front door opened and the white man entered the house.
He took off his hat and looked in her direction. A smile crossed his face as he said something while he motioned at her. His tone told her he was pleased. He stopped rambling and finally touched her cheek and said, “Pretty.”
Something about the word and the way he looked at her when he said it made her face flush with pleasure.
The older woman called out to them, so Woape turned her attention to the two women. Though the older woman seemed relaxed, the younger one frowned at her and crossed her arms. Woape immediately stepped away from the white man, ashamed she’d gotten as close to him as she did.
The older woman waved them forward, and Woape looked at him to see what he’d do. He spoke and pointed to the older woman. It took her a moment to realize he expected her to walk in front of him. She quickly obeyed, inching away from the younger woman who didn’t take her eyes off of her.
Woape hated awkward moments. The only saving grace was the friendly demeanor of the older woman who chatted away as if nothing was wrong, but certainly, the woman knew something wasn’t right, didn’t she? Woape couldn’t be the only one who sensed the tension in the air. She glanced at Gary who rolled his eyes at the younger woman.
Woape wondered what it meant. If she could understand what the older woman told the two, it would probably give her insight into everything. She had to learn their language, and the sooner, the better. She already knew one word. Pretty. Pretty was a good thing, and he was looking at her and touching her face when he said it. Her cheek was still warm from where his fingers had been. She absentmindedly caressed the spot. Pretty. She’d have to remember the word.
The older woman pointed to a chair so Woape sat down. The queasy feeling in her stomach intensified when she realized she’d have to spend the meal eating across from the younger woman. She clasped her trembling hands in her lap and stared at her plate. This was going to be a long meal.
The white man picked up the large bowl and scooped up a generous portion of meat. He handed the bowl to Woape. Her eyes widened in surprise. She took the bowl and did the same thing she’d seen him do, only she chose a smaller portion. She wasn’t that hungry, though she wondered if she should have been considering the meager meals she’d shared with the man over the past few days. Sighing, she passed the bowl to the woman next to her. She missed the peace of being alone with him.
The older woman smiled at her. She returned the smile, and the knots in her stomach loosened. The man said something so she directed her attention to him and realized he had another bowl for her. This one was filled with a white lumpy substance. She sniffed it.
The older woman laughed and the white man told her something. Woape wondered if they were laughing at her. Maybe she wasn’t acting right. But how was she supposed to act? She wasn’t white like them. Her customs differed from theirs. She sighed. She was a part of their world now. She had a responsibility to fit in.
The older woman’s warm expression settled her nerves. Maybe things were fine. Maybe she had nothing to worry about after all...well, except for the younger woman who didn’t join in the merriment. But Woape didn’t dare glance in her direction.
During the meal, the older woman rambled on and the white man threw in a comment here and there. The younger woman only spoke when asked a question, which wasn’t often. Woape tried to pay attention so she could learn the language, but they spoke much too fast and after awhile, Woape felt as if her head was spinning. Finally, she decided to tune them out.
She thought of what her new life might be like. She scanned the kitchen and glanced at the small room to the side of it. A look over her shoulder showed the room she’d just been in. Few things were familiar to her. She had much to learn. Turning her attention back to her half-eaten plate of food, she finished her meal.
Chapter Four
Woape cried in her sleep that night. She knew she was dreaming, but the memory was lodged in her heart, and even as she drifted between the reality of the present and the world where time had no meaning, she took a surprising comfort in seeing her mother again.
Her mother approached her along the outskirts of their village.
Woape was watching her brother and his friend practicing chunkey while she worked on finishing the dress she’d made out of deerskin.
Her mother placed the bowl of beans in her lap and gave her a curious look.
Woape glanced up from the piece of buffalo hoof that she chose to adorn the bottom of her dress. “What?”
“Are you not working on your wedding dress?”
She shrugged and turned her attention from her mother’s piercing stare. The prairie wind cooled her. She was looking forward to fall. Summer was much too hot unless she spent all day in the lodge. But she didn’t want to spend her time in there when she could enjoy the view of the Missouri River. She couldn’t sit out here in the winter.
“Woape,” her mother said, using a tone that told Woape she should answer her.
“I’ll work on it later,” she finally replied.
Her brother gave a hoot of laughter as his spear landed next to the stone.
“He just may win this year,” Woape commented, hoping her mother would forget the impending marriage.
However, her hope had been in vain, for her mother shook her head. “You are going to be married in one week, and you haven’t made any preparations for it.”
She sighed and finished sewing the piece of hoof into the hem of her dress. She picked up another piece and judged the space she needed so it wasn’t too close or too far apart from the other pieces she’d already put on it. “I’ll prepare for it. I still have a week.”
“Seven days isn’t a long time.”
She looked up at her brother and his friend as they picked up their spears and the stone. “I don’t want to argue again.”
“I don’t want to argue either.”
“Then can we not talk about it?”
Her mother clucked her tongue. “You do not do well to avoid it. This marriage was arranged at your birth. Just how much time do you need to accept it? Besides, how do you know whether or not this marriage will be good or bad? No one knows these things until they go through with it.”
“Maybe I’ll run away.” Woape paused, shocked she’d voiced the reoccurring thought aloud. She’d said it to herself many times, but to say it like that...and to her mother... Her face grew hot as she struggled to finish adorning her dress.
“You are sixteen. It’s time for you to be an adult.” When Woape refused to acknowledge the statement, her mother gently reached out and cupped her chin in her hand. She turned Woape’s head so that Woape had to look at her. “It is not as bad as you fear. He’ll make a good husband.”
Woape didn’t protest. Instead, she nodded and blinked back the tears forming in her eyes. As soon as her mother released her chin, she turned her attention back to the dress.
“All will be well. You’ll see.” Her mother patted her on the hand before she stood up. “Start the dress tonight.”
Across from her, her brother rolled the stone before he and his friend released their spears to see which spear would be the closest to the stone. Her brother won again and cheered. At least someone was having a good day.
Woape glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw her mother’s retreating figure. Then she allowed herself the freedom to cry. The memory ebbed as Woape woke up, still crying. How was she to know that it would be the last time she had a chance to speak with her mother?
She turned her face to the window. It was still night. She closed her eyes and shivered under the soft blanket. The wind howled outside, reminding her of the screams. She rolled over so she didn’t have to see the moon. Why did bad things always happen at night? She wished the white man was beside her. She felt safe with him. Nights were much too long and painful without him nearby.
***
Gary glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, the Indian woman he’d brought home was still watching him from where she sat on the lawn. Had he not been on the roof digging leaves out of the gutter, she’d probably be sitting close by. He didn’t know why, but she followed him everywhere.
Earlier that morning, his aunt asked him to buy some items from the store, and the Indian woman left the house with him. Then after he returned home to drop off the food and went to check on their horses, she continued to follow him. He made small talk, not because she would understand anything he told her but because he didn’t know what else to do with the awkward silence.
Now he worked his way around the roof and tossed wet leaves onto the ground, making sure he did it away from her. He stood up and made his way to the back of the house. Out of curiosity, he peered around the edge of the roof and—sure enough—she hastened to the backyard. He didn’t understand it. The men weren’t chasing her anymore. Why did she feel the need to keep him in her sight? Shouldn’t she be more comfortable with his aunt? His aunt, after all, was a woman.
As he chucked another pile of leaves out of the gutter, he caught her peering up at him. He was beginning to feel self-conscious. His last boss had watched him at times, but that was to assist in case he needed help. What did she think he was going to do? Fly away? Disappear?
When he woke up that morning and left his room, she was standing outside the door. He wasn’t sure, but he suspected she had slept part of the night outside his bedroom. He suddenly wondered if he should be spooked by this. One more look in her direction assured him that she wasn’t a threat. Well, how could she be? She was the one running from the men. And that brought up another question. Why were they ready to kill her? What happened to her? Did she do something she shouldn’t have done? Did she see something she wasn’t supposed to see?
He finished removing the leaves and studied her. She didn’t strike him as the violent type. He doubted she did something deserving of death. It must have been something she saw...or maybe her tribe had been invaded. He heard that kind of thing happened. He even heard that some Indians scalped their victims. The thought made him shiver. What a way to go. What a way to live. Not everyone who was scalped died.
Deciding he’d let his imagination go far enough, he forced his attention on descending from the roof. Predictably, she was standing at the foot of the ladder when he reached the ground. He turned to her and laughed. “What are you? My shadow?”
She offered him a smile.
He grabbed the ladder to put in the shed. Of course, she followed, just as he expected. Once he placed the ladder in the small building, he turned to leave and almost bumped into her. “You don’t have to come into the shed with me. There’s no back door.”
Her response was to smile again.
She was such a pretty thing, especially when she smiled. He shook his head and chuckled. “I’m calling you Shadow because if you keep following me all over the place, that is what you’ll be.”
She furrowed her eyebrows.
He pointed to her. “Shadow.”
Tapping her chest, she repeated, “Sa...do.”
“Shadow,” he slowly said, making sure to emphasize the ‘sh’ sound.
“Sadow.”
“Close enough.” He stepped out of the shed and waited for her to join him.
She pointed to him.
Her meaning dawned on him. “Oh. I’m Gary.” He tapped his chest. “Gary.”
“Gary.”
He nodded. “That’s right. Gary.”
“Gary.” Then she pointed to herself. “Sadow.”
Alright. Maybe that wasn’t exactly what he intended. Now she knew his actual name, but he didn’t know hers. He shook his head and pointed to her. “Name?”
She shrugged, looking confused.
He motioned to himself again. “My name is Gary. Gary.” Then he pointed at her.
A light of understanding lit up her eyes. “Woape.”
A smile formed on his lips. “Woape.” He liked it. It seemed to suit her.
“Sadow?” She shook her head.
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