The Spirit Path (28 page)

“Every now and then the old woman gets up to stir the soup. Because she is so old and frail, it takes her a long time to make the trip to the soup pot. As soon as her back is turned,
Shunka Sapa
starts pulling the porcupine quills out of her blanket strip. Because of this, the old woman never makes any progress on her quill work and her blanket remains forever unfinished.”

Winona paused, her dark eyes intent on Bobby’s face.

“And do you know what would happen if
Shunka Sapa
stopped pulling the porcupine quills from her blanket?” she asked, her voice hushed.

Mesmerized by the tale, Bobby shook his head.

Winona nodded slowly, her gaze moving over the faces of her audience. “Should that old woman ever sew the last porcupine quill into place and finish the design, the world will come to an end.”

Winona said the words with such conviction that Maggie shivered.

Bobby laughed out loud, delighted with the tale. In the few short days that he had been among the Lakota, he had come to love and respect their way of life, their stories. This was where he belonged, this was the life he had been born to live. These were truly his people. He felt at home here as nowhere else.

He bid Hawk and Maggie good night, embraced Winona affectionately, and left the lodge. The rain had stopped and he stood outside, his face turned up to the leaden sky. And then he walked resolutely toward Buffalo Heart’s tipi, because Buffalo Heart had a daughter named Star-on-the-Wind who was the most beautiful, graceful, delightful creature Bobby had ever seen.

He had met her the day they arrived at Sitting Bull’s camp, and he had seen her every day since. Buffalo Heart didn’t seem to mind that Bobby came calling and had, in passing, remarked that Star-on-the-Wind had refused to see any other young man since Proud Eagle arrived in the village.

Thinking of that now put a spring in Bobby’s step and he hurried across the camp, oblivious to everything else.

Star-on-the-Wind stood near the door of her lodge, a heavy red blanket wrapped around her head and shoulders, her gaze constantly straying toward Shadow Hawk’s tipi. Had Proud Eagle forgotten her? Only this morning he had promised to come courting.

Disappointment perched on her shoulder, black as the clouds overhead. Though she had known Proud Eagle only a few days, she knew he was the man she wanted to marry. He was so tall and handsome, just looking at him made her heart flutter like cottonwood leaves in a high wind.

It was growing late. Soon, her mother would call her to come inside. Star-on-the-Wind sighed. She was about to go into the lodge when she saw Proud Eagle hurrying toward her.

“Sorry I’m late,” Proud Eagle said. He smiled into Star’s midnight black eyes, felt his heart thump as she smiled back at him.

“I was afraid you had changed your mind.”

Proud Eagle shook his head vigorously. “No. Winona was telling stories and I…” he shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

Star-on-the-Wind lowered her lashes shyly as she opened the blanket, allowing Proud Eagle to share it with her. For a time, they didn’t say anything, just stood there in the sheltering folds of the big red blanket.

Proud Eagle took a deep breath, then slid his arm around Star’s waist, wondering if she would rebuff him, wondering if he was moving too fast. But she didn’t push him away; instead, she sidled closer to him until they were touching at shoulder, hip and thigh.

“I’ve never gone courting before,” Proud Eagle remarked, keeping his voice low so passersby couldn’t hear him.

Star-on-the-Wind placed her hand over his and gave it a squeeze, pleased beyond words that he’d never been serious about another woman. “You are doing fine,” she murmured.

“Must I court you for a long while?”

“Some courtships last several years,” Star-on-the-Wind replied. Her tone was somber and thoughtful, though her eyes were filled with merriment.

“Several years!” Proud Eagle exclaimed.

“We have not known each other very long.”

“I feel as though I’ve know you all my life.”

She smiled up at him, her dark eyes luminous. “For me it is the same. Perhaps in the spring you could bring horses to my father’s lodge. My mother and father think very highly of you. I do not think they will make us wait too long.”

“Another day will be too long,” Proud Eagle murmured, but he knew he would wait months, years, if necessary, so long as he could have Star-on-the-Wind for his wife.

Within a few days, everyone in the village knew Proud Eagle was courting Star-on-the-Wind. He tried to be discreet, but his gaze followed her whenever she was in sight. Somehow, he managed to be at the river each morning when she went for water. He was always nearby when she gathered firewood in the afternoon.

Just as everyone knew Proud Eagle and Star were courting, they knew that Buffalo Heart and his wife approved the match, and that when Proud Eagle sent someone to speak for him, Star-on-the-Wind’s parents would give them their blessing.

Proud Eagle took a lot of good-natured teasing from Shadow Hawk and Winona, but it rolled off his back like water from a duck. He was happy, happier than he’d ever been in his life. Two weeks after his courtship began, he went to one of the Buffalo Dreamers for a Big Twisted Flute. All flutes were considered
Wakan
,
or holy, and as such they were always crafted by men who had dreamed of the buffalo.

Big Twisted Flutes however were only effective when accompanied by the music of love which the shaman received in a dream. They were made of cedar wood and carved with the likeness of a horse, the most ardent of all animal lovers. Men placed great faith in the power of these flutes, and in the music of love composed by the Buffalo Dreamer. Some believed that the melody of the flute was so powerful that a girl would leave her lodge to follow the music. Some flutes were believed to have such magic that a man had only to touch a woman with it and she would follow him anywhere.

But Proud Eagle didn’t want to enchant Star-on-the-Wind, he wanted only to express his love for her. And so on the first snowy night after everyone had gone to bed he went to her lodge and played his flute hoping the soulful notes would tell her of his love and devotion.

Inside their lodge Maggie rolled closer to Shadow Hawk smiling as she heard the faint trilling song of the flute. It did indeed have a magical sound, she thought, and wished for a moment that she was a Lakota girl and that Shadow Hawk had courted her beneath a big red courting blanket, that he had sat in the snow behind her lodge and poured out his love in the notes of a Big Twisted Flute.

Shadow Hawk drew Maggie close, his hand caressing her cheek, the curve of her breast, before settling on the slight swell of her belly. He listened to the music of the flute for a moment before he turned on his side and pulled Maggie more fully against him, letting her feel his rising desire as he kissed her eyes, her lips.

With a soft sigh, Maggie began to caress him in return, her fingertips sliding over his hard-muscled arms and chest, slipping ever so slowly down his thigh. Pleasure washed through her as he groaned softly. It still amazed her that she had the power to arouse him; that their bodies fit together so well.

His breath was warm as he nuzzled her breasts, his hands gently caressing her hip and thigh, the touch of skin against skin sending shivers of delight along her spine, making her blood flow hotly within her veins.

His kiss was filled with love and desire, with the primal male urge to possess, to dominate, and yet he was infinitely tender, iron sheathed in silk, strength veiled in velvet.

The sound of his voice was low and husky. The notes of the flute were soft and sweet. The buffalo robe beneath her was warm against her bare skin. And Hawk was all around her, his scent filling her nostrils, his body molding itself to hers, making her heart sing.

She watched his face as they became one, saw the passion flare in the depths of his beautiful black eyes, felt the rough silk of his hair brush her cheek as he moved slowly within her, and everywhere he touched her skin turned to fire.

And then she was reaching, climbing toward the fulfillment that only he could give her. She sighed his name as she burst into the sun, felt him shudder as his own release came a moment later.

Sated, they clung to each other, the rasp of their breaths and the faint notes of the love flute the only sounds within the dark cocoon of the lodge.

Maggie woke feeling as if she had swallowed a ray of sunlight. Smiling with the memory of the night past, she gazed at the man sleeping peacefully beside her, felt her heart swell with love as she lifted a lock of his hair and wound it around her finger. She wished she could tell Bobby just how much magic his Big Twisted Flute possessed, and then she laughed softly, thinking how embarrassed they’d both be if she told him about last night.

“Are you laughing at me,
mitawicu
?”
Shadow Hawk asked, his voice filled with mock reproach.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Maggie replied. “Not after last night.”

“Last night,” he murmured, and a slow smile of remembrance curved his lips. “I must tell Proud Eagle that his flute does indeed work magic and ask him to play his flute often.”

“Don’t you dare!” Maggie said. She punched Hawk on the shoulder as she imagined him telling Bobby about the night past. Men! She could just imagine the two of them grinning at each other and slapping each other on the back.

Hawk covered his face with his arms, laughing uproariously as Maggie continued to pummel him with her fists.

“Are you laughing at me?” she demanded.

“No,
mitawicu
,”
he said, gasping for breath. “I would never laugh at you.”

“Oh, you!” Maggie exclaimed, and, changing tactics, she began to kiss Hawk’s arms and hands, licking his fingers.

Before she quite knew what had happened, she found herself on her back looking up at her husband, her hands imprisoned in one of his.

“Something wrong?” she asked innocently.

“I am thinking of last night,” Hawk replied. “And thinking that you are just as tempting in the light of day with no flute playing in the background.”

“Are you?” Maggie whispered, surprised that she could speak at all for the sudden, fierce pounding of her heart.

Shadow Hawk nodded. Slowly, he bent to place a kiss on her brow, the tip of her nose, her cheek, her chin.

“Your mother…” Maggie said. “She…”

“I will secure the lodge flap and she will understand.”

“We can’t shut her out of her own house.”

“Yes,” Shadow Hawk said firmly, “we can.”

He left her just long enough to secure the door, then slid under the buffalo robes again, his arms reaching for her eagerly as he caught her close.

Later, Maggie admitted it was just as wonderful in the morning.

When they left the lodge an hour later, they saw that it had snowed the night before. The whole world was covered in a spotless blanket of white.

Winona’s lips twitched slightly as she nodded to her son and his wife before ducking into the lodge.

Maggie felt her cheeks grow hot, but Hawk just grinned.

“There is no need to be embarrassed,” Hawk said. “My mother was young once. Her blood warmed at my father’s touch. How do you think I came to be born?”

“I know, but…” Maggie shrugged. “I just never thought I’d be locking my mother-in-law out in the snow while I made love to my husband.”

Shadow Hawk laughed and the sound of it washed over Maggie like sunshine. It occurred to her that she had rarely heard Hawk laugh until they came here. It was a wonderful sound, deep and filled with happiness.

She smiled up at him, her eyes reflecting the love in her heart.

Impulsively, Hawk lifted her into his arms and twirled her around. “It is a good day to be alive,” he said, smiling into her eyes. “May all our days be the same.”

“And may our son be as handsome as his father.”

“And as giving as his mother,” Shadow Hawk said fervently.

“And as strong as the love that binds us together.”

Shadow Hawk nodded solemnly as he set Maggie on her feet. For a moment, they gazed into each other’s eyes, oblivious of the comings and goings of others in the camp, and then Winona called them in for breakfast.

That afternoon, a couple of young men, Red Arrow among them, set up a target and they began shooting at it, bragging about who was the best.

Gradually, more and more people gathered around to watch, and what had started as a way to pass the time became a contest to see who was the most skilled with bow and arrow.

Shadow Hawk was urged to take part, as were Crooked Lance and Buffalo Heart. Proud Eagle stood beside Maggie as the men took their places. When all bets were made, the contest began.

It was evident from the start that Hawk and Buffalo Heart were the best of the bunch. They matched each other shot for shot, placing their arrows in the center of the target every time.

Gradually, the target was moved farther and farther away, and now Hawk’s skill proved itself.

“He’s great,” Bobby said, his voice filled with awe. “I wish I could do that.”

“You will,” Maggie said, but she doubted that anyone could ever attain Hawk’s speed and accuracy. Or his fluidity of movement. He was wonderful to watch. His eye and hand coordination was flawless, his movements graceful and smooth, without wasted motion. Each arrow went exactly where it was meant to go.

Eventually, Hawk beat out every other competitor and was declared the winner. There was a lot of talking and laughing as bets were paid off, some cheerfully, some with mock reluctance, while wives and sweethearts consoled the losers.

Foot races were the next event, with races for children, women and men according to age. The first race was for young men. The course was two miles long, a mile down and a mile back over a course brushed clear of snow.

Maggie shivered as the men who were going to participate in the race stripped down to their leggings and breechclouts.

More bets were made as the runners warmed up.

Bobby stood between Maggie and Hawk, undecided about whether to enter or not, until he saw Star-on-the-Wind join the crowd.

Taking a deep breath, he stripped off his shirt and handed it to Maggie.

Shadow Hawk shot Proud Eagle a knowing grin as he patted him on the back. “May
Wakán Tanka
give your feet wings,” he murmured.

With a nod, Bobby went to join the other men at the starting line.

The runners were tightly bunched during the first half of the race. Maggie clenched her fists as she leaned forward, willing Bobby to run faster. Around her, she could hear people shouting encouragement to their favorites. She slid a quick glance at Star-on-the-Wind, smiled as she saw that the girl’s gaze was fixed on Bobby.

As the runners made the turn at the halfway point, Bobby was in fourth place.

Maggie screamed his name, jumping up and down as he began to pull ahead. Into third place. Second.

“Run, Bobby, run!” she yelled, and then hollered with excitement as he overtook the leader, crossing the finish line first.

Breathless, Bobby stood at the finish line, his sides heaving, certain he’d never be the same again. He’d been working out at the ranch for a couple of months, but the men he’d run against had been training their whole lives. It was only his need to look good in Star-on-the-Wind’s eyes that had given him the strength to finish the race, the will to win.

When his breathing was less erratic, he looked over his shoulder.

Star-on-the-Wind was standing only a few feet away, her beautiful dark eyes glowing with pride and affection. She held up the buffalo robe she had wagered on the outcome of the race, and then held up the fine buffalo robe she had won.

Bobby smiled back at her, thinking he’d never been more pleased about anything in his life.

The next race was for men over twenty-five.

Maggie looked at Hawk as he stripped off his shirt. “You’re going to run?”

Hawk grinned at her. “I must. Red Arrow has entered the race. We have run against each other every year since we could walk.”

“Who’s going to win?”

Shadow Hawk shrugged. “I cannot say. I won last year. He won the year before that. And the year before that it was a tie. But that was among our own people. I do not know how fast Sitting Bull’s warriors can run.” He grinned at her as he handed her his shirt. “Wish me luck,
mitawicu
.”

Maggie smiled at her husband, then kissed his cheek. “You’ve got it.”

Buffalo Heart gave the signal to begin and the crowd cheered as the men took off. Hawk and Red Arrow went right to the front, closely followed by a Hunkpapa warrior. Women and children yelled at the tops of their voices, calling for their fathers or brothers to run like the wind. But the race was between Hawk and Red Arrow and the Hunkpapa warrior, and the lead changed several times as they reached the halfway mark.

Maggie cheered for Hawk as he headed down the homestretch, her voice hoarse from screaming his name. She laughed with pleasure as he crossed the finish line first, then threw her arms around Winona and gave her a hug.

Hawk’s mother smiled, delighted by her daughter-in-law’s enthusiasm and affection. In the beginning, she had not been in favor of the marriage, but now she knew that Hawk had found the right woman. Though Maggie was white, she had a good heart, a deep love for the Lakota people and their way of life. She was quick to learn their ways, eager to know more. She did not view their lifestyle with derision, she did not mock their beliefs but embraced them as fully as any Lakota maiden.