Proud Wolf's Woman (27 page)

“I know you are white,” he said after a while in distinct English. “I don’t know what you are doing here with my Cheyenne cousin or why you are trying to pass yourself off as Indian, but it won’t work with me. There are too many things about you that give the truth of your race away.” Mr. Bent seemed, to smile at this point, and Julia risked a quick glance upward. “For instance,” he said, “you eat with utensils. My good woman, take a look around you. Do you see my wife or her sister, or even my cousin Neeheeowee eating with utensils? I would suggest that the next time you desire to masquerade as an Indian, learn to eat with your fingers.”

Julia did lift her gaze to look around her then, noting that not only William Bent, but Neeheeowee gave her critical stares. She cleared her throat, and, ignoring Neeheeowee to address William Bent, she said, “Next time, I shall take your advice, Mr. Bent.”

“Ah,” the man replied, “now we’re getting somewhere. I would like to ask you what you are doing here with my cousin. Are you running away from something?”

Julia shook her head, glancing quickly toward Neeheeowee and catching his scowl at her. “I am running from nothing,” she said. “I was captured by the Kiowa tribe of Indians and Neeheeowee rescued me. That is all. He has been seeing to my welfare.”

“Hmm,” was all William Bent said. Then, “It won’t work.”

Julia hazarded a startled gaze upward.

“Your disguise,” William Bent said. “Others will see through it if you stay here any length of time.”

“We are leaving on the morrow.”

“Ah,” William Bent said. “That is good.” And if he meant to say more, he certainly gave her no further indication. As though all were settled with her last remark, he gave his attention back to the Indians, speaking in the Cheyenne dialect until, one last time he glanced up at her, saying to her in English. “There will be traders through here soon, heading back East. You could go with them if you would like. I could arrange it.”

Julia lifted her gaze toward the man just briefly before she answered. “That is very kind of you, Mr. Bent,” she said, “and I appreciate your offer. If I desire it, I will let you know soon. Thank you.”

William Bent sent her a quick inclination of his head by way of acknowledgment before centering his attention back onto the others at the table.

The evening was young. There would be more than enough time for Mr. Bent to pry what information he could from the young Cheyenne warrior whom he called cousin. However, William Bent, owner and proprietor of the most influential trading post west of the Missouri, was to find himself the loser in this situation, coming away with no more data about the white woman than what he had already learned.

Clearly, the Cheyenne warrior held advantage, nor, it would seem, would he relinquish it.

An hour later, Julia sulked in her room.

Neeheeowee still remained downstairs, talking with his cousins and with William Bent. Julia had excused herself from their meal shortly after William Bent had spoken to her and, unknowing of anything else to do, had gone directly to her room, where she still remained.

She’d needed to think. And she did so now.

Why didn’t she take advantage of Mr. Bent’s offer? It wouldn’t take much effort on her part. She could easily slip away without Neeheeowee being able to do anything about it. She would have the protection of Mr. Bent.

So why didn’t she do it?

It was, after all, her decision to leave Neeheeowee, wasn’t it? Hadn’t she already decided that this was for the best? For him, for her? Why, then, did she delay acting?

Julia moped, unable to answer her own questions, and she began to pace back and forth in front of her window, wondering what she should do. Evening had begun to descend upon the land, but the darkness that had started to fill the air remained unobserved by her, involved in her predicament as she was.

A knock sounded at her door and she called out in English, “Come in,” without thinking.

Yellow Woman, sister to William Bent’s wife, opened the door in answer, standing at the entrance to the room and smiling at Julia. That the Indian woman held a blue gingham dress didn’t register at first with Julia.

“Hal-lo.” It was Yellow Woman who spoke.

“Hello,” Julia returned, “Won’t you come in?”

Yellow Woman nodded but she didn’t advance farther into the room. “I bring you
hoestotse,”
Yellow Woman said in Cheyenne, “dress,” she finished in English as she stood in the doorway, her head down as though she were reluctant to enter. “Little White Man,” she continued, “says you may want to wear this,” she added.

“Thank you,” Julia returned, smiling, and again she motioned Yellow Woman forward. “Won’t you bring the dress over here, Yellow Woman?” Julia asked. “It has been a long time, many moons, since I have held the fabric of the white woman’s dress.” She glanced up toward Yellow Woman. “Have you worn this?”

Yellow woman giggled, shaking her head no, while at the same time, she stepped one foot into the room.

Julia thought a moment. “Would you like to? Wear it, that is?”

The young Indian woman lifted her gaze to Julia’s. Dark eyes met Julia’s before at last, the Indian woman cleared her throat. Then, speaking in English, she said, “I like very much the white woman’s dress. I have tried on several of them in the past. They do not good…look…” She grinned. “They do not look good on me.”

“That cannot be,” Julia said, appraising the young woman up and down. “Why, you have a wonderful figure.
Perhaps you just do not know how to make the dress fit you. Maybe I could help you to look ‘good’ in it. There are certain ways to wear the white man’s style of clothing and certain ways not to. I could teach you some of it. I could even do it right now. Would you like to try?”

Yellow Woman brightened up all at once, saying, “Yes, very much. But first I have come to attend to you. Little White Man said that you might want to dress like a white woman, even to the combing of your hair. He has asked me to help you do this if you would like it.”

Julia hesitated and Yellow Woman, as though sensing something amiss, said, “My cousin from the north does not know that Little White Man has asked me to do this. Somehow I do not believe he would…approve? He appears taken with you, my cousin. Is that not strange?”

Julia gave the young girl a puzzling glance, repeating, “Strange?”

“Yes,” Yellow Woman said, advancing still farther into the room. “My cousin from the north has long been without a woman and we had begun to think that he might never find one again. But all who have seen the way he looks at you would know that, at last, he has found someone.”

“And you approve?”

Yellow Woman nodded, saying,
“Heehe’e,
yes, why would I not?”

Julia didn’t answer all at once. She hesitated before she spoke, finally saying, “Because I am white. Because our cultures are so different. Because if other white men knew I was with him, they would try to take me away from him.”

Yellow Woman tilted her head. “I think that I understand what you say
but I do not understand what you mean,” she said, and when Julia gave her a puzzling glance, Yellow Woman continued on, saying, “Those things you speak of mean little. Look around you. Little White Man is white and is married to my sister. No one tries to take him from her. Little White Man and my sister are able to blend our two cultures together.”

“Yes,” Julia said, “that is true. But somehow white men think differently when it comes to white women, I think.”

“Little White Man does not,” Yellow woman said. “He knows you are white. He knows you will leave with my cousin. He does not try to prevent it.”

Julia sighed. “Maybe. But he has sent you here with a white woman’s dress. I think he may be trying to tell me to go back to my own people.”

Yellow Woman shrugged. “I do not think so. He only tries to make you feel comfortable.”

“I see,” Julia said. “Then maybe he is different. Maybe because he is married to your sister, he understands both sides. Most white men do not.”

Yellow Woman nodded in agreement, saying, “I think you are right.”

Julia shook her head as though clearing it before she turned and smiled at the Indian maiden. “Come in further, won’t you, Yellow Woman? Let’s see what we can do to make this dress look good on you.”

Yellow Woman smiled back and, with a chuckle of delight, hurried into the room.

Julia stood back, admiring her creation. Yellow Woman did, indeed, look beautiful in the blue gingham dress. She had only needed to be shown how to wear it correctly, how to tuck it in here, push it out there, how to adjust the shoulders, pull it into place.

“Come,” Julia said, standing in front of the mirror and motioning toward Yellow Woman. “Come and have a look at yourself.”

Yellow Woman did as she was bade and soon stood in front of the mirror. She looked. She gasped. “Is that me?”

Julia smiled. “Yes,” she said. “I’m afraid it is. You look quite beautiful.”

“Do you truly think so?”

Julia nodded. “Yes, I think so. Yellow Woman,” she said, hesitating, “I have certainly enjoyed myself with you tonight. I had forgotten, I think, what it was like to have a friendly chat.”

“What is this ‘chat’?”

“It means just to talk to somebody about something.”

“Naaaa,
you are right,” Yellow Woman said. “It is always good to have someone to talk to.” The other woman paused, then, as though she had thought for a while longer, she said, “Some say Yellow Woman is a good person to talk to. Many people tell their troubles to Yellow Woman.” She paused again, then, “Yellow Woman senses that you have this need in you. Do you?”

Julia sighed. She looked away. “Yellow Woman,” she said, “it is true. I am deeply troubled.”

“Naaaa,”
she said. “It is how I thought.”

Julia gazed over to her before turning to sit on the bed. “Come,” she said, patting a place next to her on the bed. “Will you come and sit here with me and let me talk for a while? So much has happened that I do not understand that perhaps, if I am just able to say it all, I can put my thoughts in order.”

Yellow Woman nodded, and, coming forward, said, “What is troubling you?”

Julia couldn’t help smiling at the girl. “Many things are worrying me,” she said, “but I think what is bothering me more than anything else is that I do not understand some Cheyenne customs that Neeheeowee speaks about. And I was wondering, perhaps if I were to ask you, if you could help me to understand these customs better?”

“Yes,” Yellow Woman said. “It would be my honor to do whatever I can for you. For you see”—here the Indian maiden smiled—“we think very highly of our cousin. And I can see that you are important to him. I think that if I can assist you, it will help him.”

Julia nodded, saying thank you, then, “Tell me,” she said, “the Cheyenne custom of marriage.”

Yellow Woman lifted her shoulders before saying, “It is simple. A young man will often court a girl one year, maybe more. He asks for her agreement to marry through an elder of the tribe and offers many horses as a gift to her parents to show how highly he regards her. If she accepts, they are married.”

Julia nodded. “Is there a ceremony?”

“Yes,” Yellow Woman replied. “The young girl is put onto one of her father’s finest horses and is led to the young man’s lodge. There, she is sat on a beautiful blanket and friends of the groom then carry her into the lodge. After that, they are married.”

“I see,” Julia said. “And is a couple considered married without the ceremony?”

“Never.”

Julia paused, but at length, she chanced a glance up at Yellow Woman. “Neeheeowee and I are not married by your customs and, Yellow Woman, Neeheeowee tells me he cannot marry me…ever…”

The Indian girl shrugged. “He protests marriage overmuch, I think.”

“Yellow Woman, please.” Julia gazed over to the maiden. “Neeheeowee has asked me to stay with him.”

“Naaaa!”

“Yes,” Julia said, and she would have confided more, but Yellow Woman sat up suddenly, climbing onto a spot on the bed behind Julia. There she smoothed down Julia’s hair, and, taking each of Julia’s braids into her hands, she began to undo the braids, one strand at a time.

Finally she spoke, “My cousin from the north,” Yellow Woman said; “long stands on tradition as is his right, I think. But he worries sometimes where there is no need to worry. He has so long been without a woman that we would give him most anything, if it would only make him happy. And when he is with you, I see happiness in his eyes. I would only listen to him with half an ear, for I do not think he knows his own mind.”

“Hmmm,” Julia said, then, “Do you really see that?”

“What?”

“Happiness in his eyes when he looks at me?”

“Heehe’e,”
she replied. “Yes, have you never noticed it?”

Julia shook her head.

“Naaaa!
You should look. He does not hide it well for all that he tries to be reserved.”

“Yellow Woman,” Julia said, “he tells me that without marriage, he would dishonor me if he were to take me to his village. Is that true?”

A long moment passed before the other woman spoke, but finally she said,
“Heehe’e,
yes, it is true.” She hesitated again, but at last she ventured, “My grandmother once told me that the most precious gift one could give another was love. She did not speak of physical love, but rather of the love one can see between mother and child, a sister and brother, or a man and his wife. And where such a love exists, it is never wrong. My cousin from the north has not yet learned this. His heart is still too full of hatred from the past to see that the best of his life could be right before him.” Yellow Woman hesitated, then she continued, “I have lived here with my sister for many seasons of the moon and I have seen many different ways of living and I wonder, why do you have to live with the Cheyenne? Why not find a place among our allies, the Arapaho, who do not have such strict rules of conduct?”

Julia shook her head. “No,” she said. “I do not think Neeheeowee would do it. He longs to be again amongst his own people.”