Destiny's Bride (15 page)

Instead, he showed restraint, refusing to rush her. She needed time, and although desire surged through his loins, rather than quenching his own needs, he focused on adding wood to bring the fire’s dying embers back to life. Taking some of the robes piled in the corner, he laid down on the other side of the fire pit to abide to her wishes.

***

Cecile curled into a ball, feeling the comfort of the bed. She breathed a sigh of relief and hoped sleep would claim her quickly. Briefly, the strange feeling of disappointment that Lone Eagle hadn’t wanted to share her bed crossed her mind again.

She repositioned the blankets and snuggled down, but an uncomfortable fullness reminded her a long time had passed since she’d gone to the bathroom. The urge intensified, and although she hated the thought of venturing out into the cold and unknown, she really had to go.

“Lone Eagle,” she whispered. “I hate to bother you, but I need to relieve myself.”

She’d learned to avoid the term ‘bathroom’ as it seemed so out of place. A long had passed time since she’d used a facility that even remotely resembled one. She chuckled, thinking what she should have said was that she needed to find a suitable tree to squat behind.

If her request annoyed Lone Eagle, he didn’t show it. He rose and opened the flap of the tepee for her. In response, she raised her eyebrows and clearly gave him a puzzled look. “Whe…Where do I go?”

Lone Eagle picked up a small burning branch from the fire pit to light the way. She wrapped herself in a buffalo robe, but when she stepped outside, the cold air hit her in the face like a fist. The sudden urge to run back to the warmth of the lodge was inviting, but not nearly as strong as the increasing need to pee.

She followed him through the darkness until an unusual sensation in her stomach stopped her in her tracks.  She stood perfectly still. It happened a second time. This was not at all like the fluttering feeling she’d been experiencing, but something much more distinctive. She felt her bulging stomach and realized she truly felt the movements of her baby.

Lone Eagle held the burning branch in the air and looked at her beneath an arched brow. She took hold of his free hand and put it on her stomach. “Feel,” she said, “the little one is moving.”

His eyes widened, and obviously uneasy with touching her in such a personal way, he pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. “This…this child will certainly be strong and healthy.”

He held onto her elbow and guided her to the edge of the village, leaving her at a large stand of trees where she could find privacy to relieve herself. Cecile lifted the bulky buffalo robe and squatted. Beyond the sounds of her own bodily fluid splashing the ground, she heard water bubbling nearby.

She glanced over her shoulder at veiled moonlight reflecting in a large stream. She'd wondered about the village’s nearest source of water and now she knew. A shiver ran up her spine as the cold night air found her bare bottom while she squatted.  Would her bladder ever empty?  Finally, she finished and hastened back to Lone Eagle. The piece of flaming wood he held had burned almost down to his fingers.

They crossed the compound to the tepee. Most of the campfires had died out, and the quiet village appeared to be sleeping. Somewhere in the distance, though, she thought she heard a fussy baby. How strange to think that in just a few months she’d have a child of her own. At the lodge entrance, she paused and smiled up at Lone Eagle. “Thank you…thank you for taking care of us.” She patted her stomach.  She’d come to depend on him for everything.

Cecile went to her bed and Lone Eagle stretched out on his pallet next to the fire. She shivered, thinking how nice it would be to cuddle together to regain the warmth lost in the cold night air, but questioned her reasoning. Snuggling beneath the furry robes, she grew warm and comfortable, but the cold night air had been too stimulating and now she was wide awake. She recalled the events of the day, while waiting for sleep to come. The initial shock of meeting Lone Eagle’s people was over and she could finally relax. So far so good. The flames dwindled and the lodge grew darker.

Lone Eagle’s low, even breathing told her he'd fallen asleep. In the dimness, she created a mental image of his handsome face. Again, the baby moved, interrupting her thoughts. She gently massaged her stomach as if assuring the infant that everything would be fine. Finally, she fell asleep, secure in knowing Lone Eagle was nearby.  No need to wake him and expect him to leave. 

***

Cecile woke to the sounds of children laughing, dogs barking, and people moving about outside. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and stretched her arms high over her head. Lone Eagle was gone, his buffalo robes folded and put away.

Rummaging through her stack of belongings, she searched for something clean to wear. Using a long piece of rope, she tightened Walt’s trousers around her waist then hid the cord with one of his long, flannel shirts.

Lone Eagle stood outside the lodge, calling her name. She opened the flap and bid him enter.

“Good morning, Green Eyes. You must have been very tired. I hope you slept well!”

“Thank you. Yes, I slept very well. And I feel wonderful this morning. Now that the morning sickness is gone, I wake up feeling refreshed and ready for whatever the day brings.”

The words had barely left her mouth when she wondered if she really was ready.

Lone Eagle sat while she pulled a comb through her tangled hair. “My parents have asked you to share our morning meal. We have been waiting for you to wake up and join us.”

Cecile’s cheeks warmed. “I’m so sorry I slept so late. Why didn’t you wake me?”

“There’s no need to apologize. A woman in your condition need’s rest. My parents understand.”

How did he always know what to say to make her feel better?

Her stomach rumbled and breakfast sounded good, but outside, the cold morning air assaulted her. She shivered and pulled her jacket closed until the initial shock passed and the sunlight filtering through the trees brought rays of warmth to her face. Trying to match Lone Eagle’s long strides while crossing the compound to his parent’s lodge warmed her even more.

She smiled at a few children outside one of the other tepees.  Other than their happy giggles, there was serenity in the village.  In some ways the camp reminded her of Silver City, with small ones playing and adults going about their normal routine. Some whom she’d met the day before smiled and waved as they walked by, and as she and Lone Eagle approached his parent’s lodge, the pretty woman with the menacing look stood in the distance. Again, before Cecile pointed her out, the woman disappeared behind a distant tepee. Cecile knew she was bound to see her again, but fretted about the woman’s demeanor. The aroma of breakfast wafting in the air enticed Cecile and made her forget her worries.

Singing Sparrow dished up something akin to oatmeal. Whatever the concoction, it looked appetizing, and Cecile sunk down on a robe next to the fire and eagerly accepted the steaming bowl. The contents had a flavor identical to the maple syrup her mother bought at the mercantile, and memories of home and her parents flooded her thoughts. She discreetly brushed away the tear that trickled down her cheek.

She scraped the bottom of the bowl for the last bite then licked her lips. “Lone Eagle, please thank your mother for the delicious food.” The English he learned from the prairie missionaries proved a blessing. Without his knowledge of the language, they couldn’t communicate.

After eating, Cecile helped wash the utensils and then excused herself to tend to her morning toilette. With Lone Eagle escorting her back to the lodge, more questions came to mind.

“You probably want to introduce me to members of the tribe who can help teach me things, don’t you?  First, can you take me to where I can bathe?  I honestly need to wash my hair.”

He frowned and shook his head. “The women gather at the stream in the morning to bathe and do laundry. Men are not welcome there during the women’s time, and it is tribal law they stay away.”  He pulled aside the lodge flap so she could enter, but before she did, he stopped her.  “We have much time to teach you the way of the people, so do not worry about that.”

A sense of uneasiness gripped her at the thought of going anywhere without him, but she gathered her hairbrush, washcloth, soap, and soiled clothing and put them into a basket. With a deep breath, she started toward the stream, haphazardly balancing the full container on her hip.

“Green Eyes,” Lone Eagle called after her. “I will speak with my mother about clothing for you. My woman should wear something more fitting than what you brought.”

Cecile glanced down at the faded flannel and sagging men’s pants. He was right. She didn’t look very becoming.

Chapter Thirteen

When Cecile reached the steam, the young Indian women stopped chattering and giggling and stared at her. Her first urge was to turn and run, but if this was to be her home, she had to face them. With a deep breath, she walked to the water, continuing to smile as she approached. Hopefully, friendliness would beget friendliness, as she’d heard all her life.

She knelt and wet her washcloth, noticing they resumed their cheerful banter. It was far more comfortable having them ignore her rather than being the object of their curious stares, but not being able to converse with them made her feel helpless. How would she ever make friends if she couldn’t talk to them?

Cecile braved the cold water to wash her hair, and when she lifted her dripping wet head, Lone Eagle’s sister, Little Dove, moved closer. They hadn’t been introduced, but Lone Eagle had pointed her out. She knelt beside Cecile and pounded clothing on the flat stones of the creek bank. A few other women looked over their shoulders and snickered, but Little Dove’s friendly gesture was comforting.  Cecile used a scrap of linen to blot her eyes, keeping a side glance trained on the young woman.

After finishing her laundry, Little Dove hoisted her basket onto her hip, and although no words were exchanged, she waved as she walked away. Cecile’s first order of business was to learn the language so she wouldn’t feel like such an outsider, and she knew just the man to help her.

With her bath and laundry finished, she strolled toward her lodge, deep in thought and appreciating the beauty of the forest. She slung her wet hair back and forth, sending beads of water flying in all directions, and she giggled out loud. How wonderful to feel happy and carefree for the first time in quite a while.

An abrupt end to her happy mood came by surprise. The one with the menacing stare stepped directly in front of her. The woman’s eyes were stone cold and her rigid jaw quivered. Hot, pungent breath assailed Cecile’s face, and waving a tightly clinched fist, the unknown female spat an unfriendly message in her own tongue, and as quickly as she appeared, she left.

Her threatening behavior left Cecile with trembling hands and weak knees. What was behind all the hatred? She needed to find Lone Eagle but wasn’t sure her legs would support her. Taking small, unsure steps, she started toward his parents’ lodge.

The tepee flap was open, and Lone Eagle relaxed against a woven backrest next to the fire pit, making arrows. She sat next to him, feeling safe in his presence, but still shaken from the experience. The way he wound fine threads around feathers and secured them to the end of wooden shafts fascinated her, and her fear was soon forgotten. But why was he working on arrows? Dread filled her when she deduced he was probably going hunting. Then she’d really be all alone. The idea didn’t appeal to her, especially after what had just happened.

The thought of another confrontation with the woman made her insides quiver. She had to tell Lone Eagle to keep him close. “I…I had a very upsetting experience on my way back from the stream.” Her inner trembling echoed in her voice.  “I need your help.”

He looked at her, concern etched his brow. “What happened, Green Eyes? Are you all right?”

She started with what had taken place on the way back from the stream and then told him about the other times, describing the locations and the stranger’s unfriendly and menacing demeanor.

“I fear you have encountered Spotted Doe.  She assumes I feel more for her than I do,” he explained. “She has made it very clear to my mother and others in the village that she waits for me to take her as my wife. I first believed she was simply thankful for all I have done for her and her son since my brother’s death, but many nights, she has offered to warm my blankets.”

Cecile’s eyes widened. “You mean she wants to sleep with you?”

Had he slept with her? She didn’t ask because she didn’t want to know the answer.

“I suppose she is jealous of you and is letting you know. I never promised her anything, but now I have brought you to the village, and she believes at last, I have no interest in her.”

“Well, at least now I understand why she is so mad. In my neck of the woods, the way she’s acting is called being territorial. She considers you her property, and I’m trespassing. Do you understand what trespassing means?”

“Yes, it’s what the whites think my people do by living on our own land.”

“Not all white people.” 

“Green Eyes, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to be cruel. Please forgive me.”

“It’s all right,” she said, patting his hand. “You only said what you feel. I understand.”