Blackbird (3 page)

“It’s just a name.”  She pondered what he had said.  “I suppose my mother just liked the way it sounded.”

He grunted.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He looked at her as if he expected horns to sprout from her forehead.  “White eyes make no sense.  You cannot have a name and have it not mean something.  You can like the sound of a bird in the forest or a river flowing, but you would not name someone after the sound.  You’re name must mean something.”

“Well if my name means something, I have no idea what it is.”

“As I said, you make no sense.”

Katherine leaned back on her heels.  She longed for a bath or to wade in a nearby stream at the very least, and her filthiness coupled with this annoying Indian was taking its toll on her nerves.  Irritated again, she purposely picked an argument with him.  “We make no sense because of our names, indeed.  That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”

“It is not only your names.  Nothing you people do makes any sense.”

“It most certainly does!”

“Then tell me what makes sense.  Provide examples.  Prove your point.”  He was obviously just as irritated with her now.

“Everything I do has meaning.”

“I do not agree.”

“I don’t care if you agree or not.  Who are you to judge me anyway?”

“Why did you not take Knox’s name?”

Caught off guard, she met prying eyes that seemed to look right through her.  “Because he’s not my husband.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “What is he then?”  When she did not answer, he grunted.  “You see?  No meaning.  No sense.”

Katherine looked away.  His words cut her deeply.  What was Joshua Knox to her?  He was her best friend, her mentor, her heart.  He was everything to her.  And to him, she was--

She was a friend.  Nothing more.

“Joshua loves me very much.”  Her voice wavered, and tears stung the backs of her eyes.

“How much?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“A missionary’s woman cursing?  You had better recite the Rosary.”

“My relationship to Reverend Knox is none of your business!”

Fuming, Katherine stormed off toward the sound of a stream.  How would she ever last four more days with this man?

CHAPTER THREE

ADAHYA watched her stomp toward the stream.  Talking of Knox had turned her mood sour.  Not that he cared.  He most certainly did not.  All the same, Knox had hurt her somehow.  He had heard proof in her voice.

He waited until she was far enough ahead to avoid being seen and then followed her.  He peeked out from behind a giant tamarack and watched her sit on the edge of the stream to unlace her shoes.  Dusk had settled, and the darkness contrasted with the paleness of her calves as she removed her stockings.  Her calves and ankles were shapely but much thinner than a woman’s should be.  To add to her unattractiveness, she was too tall.  A woman should be a good foot shorter than a man.  They should not come eye-to-eye like this one did to him.

She stepped into the river, allowing the water to wash over her feet as it did the river rocks.  She brought her head forward and removed the pins from her hair.  The ugly bun at the back of her head immediately transformed itself to a wall of thick, black hair which cascaded nearly to her waist.  When she straightened, it fell around her face and took years from her uptight appearance.  Yes, her scalp would have brought ten British pounds at Fort Niagara.

Adahya wondered what the Redcoats would do to her before they hung her.  Colonel Butler had always been fair to him and to his people.  Knox, however, had been a thorn in Butler’s side for nearly two years now.  Surely Butler’s men would make her suffer long for being his woman.

She stood there a long moment, apparently assessing her surroundings. Then she stepped out of the water and began putting on her stockings and shoes. 

Adahya hurried back to the fire.  When she returned to him her hair was braided in one long plait down her back.  He offered her a piece of moose jerky from his bag, and she hungrily devoured it.

“How did your mother die?”

“Childbirth,” she answered with her mouth full of jerky.  “The baby, my brother, died with her.  He would have been my only sibling.  That was two years ago.  Papa is remarried now, and he and my stepmother have a little girl.  Anna.”  She took more jerky.  “Is your family still living?”

Adahya nodded.  It was dark now, and the firelight painted eerie shadows onto the surrounding birch and maple trees.  “My mother lives.  My father was killed in the war against the French.  I have two brothers.”

“Are you the oldest?”

He shook his head.  Zachariah and Two Guns would probably be back from the Onondaga council by now.  “I am the youngest,” he answered.

“I would have thought you were the oldest.”

“Why?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  You look old, I guess.”

He suddenly became annoyed again.  “I am twenty-seven winters.  That is not so old.”

“Are you married?”

Her boldness shocked him.  Never would a Hodenosaunee woman have inquired so personal a question of a man whom she barely knew.  He had been forward with his questions to her, but he was a man.  Boldness in a woman was completely unacceptable.  “We do not wed in white chapels with steeples like Knox would do.”  His tone was purposely sarcastic.

“What about your version of marriage then?”

“And I suppose our version would disgust you, Onondio?”  His annoyance was growing.  The white eyes must certainly find her as rude as he did.

“I didn’t say that.  I just asked if you had a wife.  It was a simple question.”

“I have no wife.”  He did not know why he had told her.  He supposed mainly to end her meddling.

“Why not?”

The brass this woman had!  He glared across the fire at her.  She was looking at him as if she had every right to ask such personal questions.  Adahya studied her face in the firelight, his annoyance turning fast to anger.  Two could play her game.

“Why is it, Onondio, that if Knox is not your husband as you claim, your father allowed you to come all the way out here alone and not provided for?”

“Joshua provides for me.”

“By leaving you alone while he goes to Albany?”

She did not answer, and Adahya smiled, knowing he had won.  He watched her toy with a twig near the fire.  At last she replied, “I came here to teach.”

“The Oneidas?”

“Yes.”

He grunted.

* * *

KATHERINE glared at the Indian.  She had lied, but there was no other way to explain her reason for coming here.  Winning Joshua’s love was her motive for everything she did, it seemed.  She had followed Joshua around like a puppy ever since he had been assigned to her father’s parish.  She had begged and pleaded to come here with him.  Papa had been against it, but she had insisted that Joshua held feelings for her, and her father believed Joshua would eventually marry her.  That, too, had been a lie.

His glare was skeptical.  “What kind of father allows his husbandless daughter to live with three men?  That is not honorable.”

“And what, pray tell, do you know about honor?”  She clenched her teeth, infuriated by his superior attitude.

“A Hodenosaunee man takes care of his women.  He does not allow them to fight their battles for him.  He especially does not allow them to be escorted to enemy forts by men they do not even know.”

“How dare you judge me!”

“I am asking questions as you have asked me all day,” he answered matter-of-factly.  He seemed unaffected by her anger.

“Well, I don’t appreciate it.”  She turned her back to him and looked up at the starry sky.  The moon was huge between the tree branches, and she wondered if Joshua was watching it too.  They had always watched the night sky together.  Joshua said he could feel God’s presence at night, that the stars were His windows to heaven.

It had been five days since Joshua had told her he did not love her, that he could never love her.  The memory of his words still stung as though he had said them only moments ago.

She silently prayed that his trip to Albany would bring him prosperity and a safe return.  And she also prayed for his change of heart.

***

THE Indian was in a foul mood the next morning.  Katherine, however, woke up refreshed and anxious.  She had bathed in the stream, and her mood was joyous.  She would do her best to stay positive today.  Everything would work out for the best.  She would return from Fort Ontario with news which would make Joshua proud.  And he would fall in love with her.

After a morning of walking in silence, she became determined to get the Indian to talk.  He had not made any move to harm her last night, so she decided he was trustworthy enough.  Now she was bored.  Her legs ached, and she longed for conversation to take her mind off her discomfort.

She hurried her pace to catch up to him.  “Tell me about your family.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are meddlesome.”

Determined to get through his hard exterior if only for the sheer challenge of it, Katherine ignored his insults.  “How many children do your brothers have?”

“Zachariah has one boy.  Two Guns has one boy and one girl.”

“How old?”

The Indian slowed his unnerving pace.  “Zachariah’s is an infant.  Two Guns’ boy is eight.  His daughter is four.”

“Do you love them?”

He muttered something in Mohawk and shook his head.

“Well, I was just asking.”

“Why would I not love them?”  His tone was heavy with sarcasm.  “I am their uncle.  They are my family.  Of course I love them.  Why would you even question such a thing?”

Silence passed between them again.  The late morning was already sultry, and Katherine felt the weight of her heavy skirts becoming unbearable.  Adahya had removed his soldier’s jacket and carried it slung over his shoulder.

She watched him cut through the forest ahead of her.  His bare back was lean and corded with muscle.  With a backside like that, surely some member of his tribe must find him handsome, in a rugged sort of way.  She wondered why he had no wife.

“Have you any children?”  She began another round of questions.

“None that I know of.”

“I have heard that some Iroquois take multiple wives.”

“Some choose to.”

“Yet you don’t even have one.”  When he made no comment, she pressed, “Why is that?”

After a noticeable silence, he gave a curt answer. “Adahya’s woman is gone.”

There was no mistaking the sadness in his voice.  Katherine kept silent for a long while.  Perhaps she should not have pried.  Obviously his wife’s death must have affected him deeply.  She could not help but hope someone would mourn her like that after she passed on.

Right now that prospect seemed very bleak.

* * *

THEY stopped at midday, and the Indian shot a rabbit for them to eat.  Katherine built a fire and a spit of branches as Adahya dressed the rabbit with his knife.  Wordlessly, he laid it by the fire, and then wiped his knife off in the grass.  He slid the knife back in the sheath at his belt and stretched out on the grass beside her.

Katherine slid the rabbit onto the spit and tended it as it fried and spat against the flames.  The Indian’s eyes were closed, and she studied him.  Vertical lines and intricate triangular patterns were tattooed down both arms from his elbows to wrists.  Katherine had seen similar designs on Oneida pottery.

This Indian’s wife had probably resembled Oneida women.  She had probably died young.  Katherine could not help but wonder if she had been more personable than this man.

She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she did not notice that the Indian had opened his eyes and was now watching her stare at him.  “Do you like looking at me?”

Heat rushed to her cheeks.  “I--I wasn’t looking at you in particular.  D-did you do that yourself?”  She motioned to his arms.

“Yes.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes.”  He sat up and inspected the sizzling rabbit.

“How long were you and your wife together?” she asked without thought.  He would yell at her now or--at the very least--insult her.

“One winter,” he answered to her surprise.  He turned the rabbit over and over on the spit, studying it intently as if he were suddenly lost in his own memories.  “Song was a beautiful woman.”

Katherine studied the anguish contained in his dark eyes, and for a brief instant, she felt a hint of jealousy for his dead wife.  Not for her having been married to this man, but because she had received the love that Katherine had always longed for.  The Indian spoke his wife’s name as if it were something precious and sacred.  No one had ever held Katherine in such high esteem.  She had hoped Joshua would.

A sudden, terrifying loneliness gripped her to the point of strangulation.  She turned her back to the Indian, hugged her knees to her chest, and fought back tears.