Destiny's Bride (18 page)

She visited Rain Woman every day, continuing to learn more about Sioux customs and to practice her Lakota. In turn, she tutored Rain Woman in English. The old woman had become a second mother, since Cecile’s own couldn’t be present for the baby’s birth. Knowing someone she loved and trusted would be there for her brought her comfort.

During their daily visits, Rain Woman worked on a strangely shaped beaded pouch. “Un`ci, what is that you are making? Cecile’s curiosity piqued and she had to ask.

“It is a special amulet shaped like a turtle. Since you do not have a female relative to make one for your child, I do so happily.”

“What will it be used for?” Cecile couldn’t imagine what a newborn would do with a beaded turtle bag.

Rain Woman reached behind her and produced another completed bag. “The cord which connects you to your child will be placed inside one pouch for good luck. A second will serve as decoy to lure the evil spirits away from your baby. The true pouch will be hidden in your child’s cradleboard and later fastened to the child’s clothing. This helps assure a long and healthy life just like that of a turtle. ”

The unclear and confusing explanation of the ritual didn’t dim her joy that Rain Woman cared enough to go to the trouble. Cecile fingered the work of art. “I’m sure I have much to learn from you. Maybe someday I will understand the things that seem so confusing to me now. I’m pleased you want to do this for my child. You are very kind and I thank you.”

With the baby growing, getting up and down posed difficulty for Cecile, and feeling comfortable was almost as hard. She’d just found the right position when Rain Woman motioned her to rise. “Come, little one, it is time for you to visit the birthing tent. Raven Wing’s child is about to be born and this is a good thing for you to see.”

Cecile stiffened. Was she ready for this? Could she even get up? She’d put her trust in this woman, so she struggled to her feet.

On the way, Rain Woman patted Cecile’s arm. “This is a good day for you. The women’s tepee is used frequently, but not usually for birthing. This holy place has two purposes:  bringing our children into the world and separating the men from women during their bleeding time. 

Cecile jerked her gaze around.  “Every woman must remain there?”

“Yes. Sacred objects and hunting weapons cannot be defiled by the touch of a woman during that time. It is believed that a man’s strength is lessened if he keeps company with women while they bleed.”

Her mouth dropped. “You mean, every month I have to leave my husband? I‘ve never heard of such a thing.”

Rain Woman chuckled. “It won’t be so bad. You’ll surely have company there, and it’s a good place for gossiping.”

“Well, I think the idea is a lot of hogwash.”

“Bathing a pig?” Rain Woman raised a wrinkled brow.

Cecile regretted her word choice and explained the meaning, but in the end, it didn’t matter what she thought… customs were customs and she couldn’t change them. She paused outside the women’s lodge, reluctant to enter. The old grandmother gave her a little shove.

The area inside was large and spacious. Cecile stood riveted against the wall and watched with eyes wide. To see a group of women assisting in the birth made the experience impersonal…and a tad intimidating.  Maybe she hadn’t become as immodest as she thought.  Her thoughts were drawn to the expectant mother by a low moan.

Raven Wing squatted over a small trough lined with a square of deerskin and grasped a stick driven into the ground to help maintain her balance while she gave in to the bearing down pains. With each contraction, one of the women pushed on Raven Wing’s abdomen to hasten the baby’s arrival.

Cecile wondered how long the woman had been in labor. Raven Wing’s face contorted with pain yet she never yelled or cried out despite her apparent anguish.  Having never witnessed a child’s birth before, Cecile became frightened and inched toward the door.

Rain Woman noticed and waggled a winger at her. “You must stay and watch so when your time comes you know what to expect.”

“Okay, Old Mother,” Cecile relented. “I will stay.” But she thought of a thousand things she’d rather be doing.

Finally, after lots of pushing and straining, Raven Wing’s blood-covered baby slipped out into the trough. The new mother fell back onto a bed of buffalo robes, totally spent and panting for breath. Rain Woman stepped in and cut and tied the umbilical cord then cleared the baby’s nose and mouth. The newborn boy immediately cried, flailing tiny arms in the air.

The taste of bile rose in Cecile’s throat and she gagged when another woman removed the afterbirth and cleaned the blood from between Raven Wing’s legs. Cecile quickly looked away, her cheeks blazing at the thought of having someone else clean her private parts.

Rain Woman washed and wrapped the infant in a rabbit skin then knelt and placed him at his mother’s breast, the old grandmother’s bones crackling when she struggled to straighten. Watching the baby boy suckle made Cecile’s breasts tingle. She covered her face, fearing how quickly her own time approached.

***

“Lone Eagle, watching that baby born was so amazing, although a little scary. Everyone worked together.” Cecile chattered nonstop about what she’d seen. “Giving birth looked very painful, but Raven Wing didn’t even so much as cry out...there was so much blood…and she gave birth to the most beautiful baby boy.”  She gazed up and sighed. “I wonder if I’ll have a boy or a girl.”

Lost in thought about other things, Lone Eagle wasn’t really listening He wasn’t privy to the happenings in the birthing tent since men didn’t take an active role when it came to giving birth. Those were things women discussed among themselves. Rain Woman would make sure everything went okay.

His thoughts centered on tonight and his desire for his woman. It wouldn’t be long before he would have to forego the pleasure of mating with her because the closer it got to Cecile’s time, the more dangerous it was for her and the child. But, tonight…tonight he planned to enjoy her to the fullest. He took her hand and led her to bed.  There had to be a way to end her excited rambling.

***

His pleasure sated, they snuggled together. With Cecile’s back pressed close against him he cradled her stomach in his hands, trying to imagine the sex of the child. “Green Eyes,” he whispered against her neck. “I care not if the child is boy or girl. I only pray the Great Spirit will grant us a healthy child.” He never imagined he would feel such love for a seed he hadn’t planted.

Too comfortable to move, they fell into a serene slumber. Lone Eagle woke hours later, and lovingly pulled the blankets securely around her shoulders, then tiptoed out.

***

A silent snow had fallen during the night, and a layer of white blanketed the ground, making the compound look like it had been finely dusted with flour from her mother’s kitchen. Today was Cecile’s wedding day and despite the cold, the clouds parted to let in the sunshine reflect on the lodge’s side.

Needing to walk to combat her nervousness, Cecile stepped outside. She shielded her eyes from the sun’s harsh reflection on the stark whiteness and strolled toward the ceremonial lodge, the largest in the village and where the wedding would take place.

She pictured herself riding to the ceremony on the new white mare Lone Eagle had presented her as a wedding gift. Her gift to him was a new doeskin shirt. Rain Woman had shown her how to tan and soften the hide, but Cecile did the stitching all herself. She had been so anxious to show off her accomplishment, she’d already given it to him. The look on his face told her she’d done a good job.

***

Awake and nervously pacing the width of his parents’ lodge, Lone Eagle gazed at the wedding clothes lying on the bed and wished time would pass quickly. He envisioned being able to spend a full night with Cecile, not having to leave her bed ever again.

“My son, today is a special day. Our future chief will take a wife. It is a proud day for our tribe.” Broken Feather interrupted his son’s thoughts.

Lone Eagle smiled at the sentiment, but tears blurred his vision. “Yes, my father. It is a proud day…and a happy day for me. Today I join with the woman I love.”

Not used to such an emotional display in the presence of his father, Lone Eagle excused himself to bathe and prepare for the ceremony.

***

Singing Sparrow, Rain Woman, and a few other women descended upon Cecile’s lodge to ready her for the celebration. They chattered away while they bathed her from head to toe in pungent herbs and flower petals. Singing Sparrow handed Cecile a wrapped package and lovingly patted her hand. Touched by the show of affection, Cecile thanked her with a hug.

Inside the cloth-wrapped package was the most beautiful white doeskin dress Cecile had ever seen. Exquisite turquoise stones complemented the feathers adorning it, each one expertly sewn into place with stitches so small they were barely visible. Beneath the dress, she discovered a pair of matching knee-high moccasins decorated in the same fine fashion.

“Thank you, my mother.” Emotion made it hard to speak. “This is the most beautiful gift I have ever received,”

Singing Sparrow embraced Cecile, and then held her at arm’s length. “You must get ready, my daughter. Soon you will join with my Lone Eagle.”

Cecile shimmied the dress over her head and past her hips, still marveling at its beauty. Another woman liberally greased her auburn hair to make it shinier, and Singing Sparrow braided it for her. Rain Woman decorated Cecile’s cheeks with brightly painted yellow symbols, and Little Dove stepped forward to present her gift—a matching headband. Cecile put on the beautifully gemmed headpiece as the crowning touch and peered at herself in a piece of broken mirror.  She then turned to face the group. “Thanks to all of you, I think I look beautiful…but the important thing is will my husband-to-be agree?”

“You are certainly a vision bound to please your husband. This is much better than the clothing of the white man you wore when you first came to us. I am proud to call you t'akója” Rain Woman flashed her gaping smile. 

Everyone laughed, including Cecile. She looked into the faces of Rain Woman and Singing Sparrow and saw the pride and love shining from their eyes. Despite recognizing the meaning of the Lakota word for grandchild used by the old woman, today, she truly felt like a daughter to each of them.

Outside, Little Elk called out to announce his arrival. During the past few weeks, he'd become a good friend despite his mother’s apparent hatred for Cecile. Children were brought up under the guidance of many different adults, and since Little Elk’s father had died, his maternal grandparents had raised him. He looked to be around thirteen years old. Shy at first, he started tagging along while Cecile completed her chores. He was curious about white people and asked lots of questions.

Cecile practiced speaking Lakota with him and in the process learned more about the Sioux and their customs. He’d excitedly told her about his upcoming vision quest. She was happy Lone Eagle had already explained the process, so she understood Little Elk’s eagerness. She valued his friendship, and now he was about to become her nephew.

Little Elk clutched the lead rope to Cecile’s horse and waited. When she came out, his eyes widened. “Are you truly the same white woman who came to our village a short time ago?”

“Of course, it’s me,” she kidded.  Despite the paleness of her skin and the color of her hair, she felt every bit Sioux.

He helped her mount, and rather than straddling the horse, she dangled both legs down one side. Centering herself, she firmly grasped the mare’s flowing mane while Little Elk led the animal at a slow, even pace toward the ceremonial lodge. Cecile risked letting go with one hand momentarily to clutch her stomach. She wasn’t sure if the baby moved or if she was experiencing a severe case of butterflies. Either was a cause for happiness, and her jaws ached from smiling.

The large flap had been thrown aside, and Little Elk led the horse into the arena. Lone Eagle stood beside his father, wearing an outfit that rivaled hers in beauty. Singing Sparrow had made both to match. He looked ruggedly handsome, and anticipation shivered through Cecile as Little Elk halted the mare in front of her soon-to-be husband. As had been explained, the young man’s action symbolized a past tradition of leaving one’s intended in front of her suitor’s lodge.

Lone Eagle helped her dismount, allowing her body to slowly slide down the length of his own until her feet touched the ground. “Green Eyes, you are truly a vision.”

Clasping hands with her, they stood before Chief Broken Feather, who was regally dressed in ceremonial garb with full headdress. He held a spear topped with a rainbow of colored feathers, and draped over his other arm was a brightly colored blanket.

A large majority of tribal members crowded inside to witness the event. The last time the whole village had circled Cecile, fear and intimidation froze her in place but today, she was among friends.

Standing beside her handsome warrior, she faced the chief. The majority of the ceremony was in Lakota, and although she didn’t fully understand all the words, the gestures and looks made everything clear. Broken Feather handed the blanket to Lone Eagle, who then placed it around Cecile’s shoulders and drew her close. This, she knew from Rain Woman, signified his love, affection and intent to be her caretaker. Cecile barely heard what else was being said. Lone Eagle peered into her very soul, and she lost herself within the depths of his ebony eyes.