The Spirit Path (30 page)

The days passed slowly for Maggie. At intervals, they made camp for several days at a time while the men went hunting. It was wonderful to have fresh meat again, to stuff herself on nuts and berries and wild plums.

She was an old hand at putting up their lodge now and she took great satisfaction in doing it as quickly and efficiently as the Lakota women. Indeed, except for her curly hair, she looked pretty much like an Indian herself. Her skin was deeply tanned; she wore moccasins and a doeskin dress beaded and fringed in the manner of the Sioux.

She felt a sharp pang in her heart the day the Black Hills came into view for the first time. This was home, she thought. It would always be home, even if she never saw it again. It would be good to see the majesty of the Hills again, she mused, if only for a week, good to inhale the fragrant scent of the pines, to walk in the tall prairie grass, to swim in the lakes, to see the deer grazing in the quiet meadows at dusk.

That night, she lay in Hawk’s arms wondering what he was thinking. He had been born here. The land was in his blood, a part of him. If it was hard for her to say goodbye, how much harder must it be for him?

He had decided they would spend a week here, replenishing their supplies, hunting for buffalo, before they moved on. Maggie knew in her heart that it wasn’t really a need for meat or supplies that had prompted his decision, but a desire to spend a little more time in the place that would always be his home.

Blood. A smear of bright red blood staining her thighs. Maggie looked at it in horror wondering if she was losing the baby. But there were no pains, no contractions, just that little bit of blood.

She didn’t say anything to anyone that day, or the next, but the bleeding didn’t stop, and her fear grew stronger. Something was wrong. She tried to remember everything she’d ever heard about miscarriages and childbirth, but all she could remember was that blood was never a good sign.

She kept hoping it would pass. After all, there wasn’t a lot of blood, but when the cramping began she knew something was terribly wrong. That night, she told Hawk, and Hawk told his mother.

Winona sent Hawk outside while she examined Maggie. Her face was grave when she finished. Rising, she went outside to prepare Hawk.

“What is it,
Iná
?”
Shadow Hawk asked anxiously.

“I have seen this before in other women,” Winona explained sadly. “Always the baby is lost.” She laid her hand on Hawk’s arm. “And sometimes the mother.”

“Is there nothing to be done?”

“I know of no way to stop the bleeding. She is having pains also. I think you must expect the worst.”

“No!”

Winona patted her son’s arm sympathetically and then, sensing his need to be alone, she returned to the lodge to comfort Maggie as best she could.

Shadow Hawk walked away from the camp, the pain in his heart worse than anything he had ever known as he contemplated the loss of his son. He could bear that, he thought bleakly, if he had to, but he could not bear to think of living without Maggie.

Standing in the darkness of the night, he felt himself being torn in half. It was a familiar feeling, and he remembered another time when he’d had to make a painful decision, a decision between his heart and his soul.

And now he must make such a decision again, a decision between the lives of his child and his wife and the welfare of his people.

Raising his arms overhead, Shadow Hawk lifted his face to the sky and began to pray, asking
Wakán Tanka
for guidance.

For a time, he heard nothing but the sound of the wind soughing through the trees, and then, in an instant, he knew all the answers.

The Eagle must follow the Hawk.

Shadow Hawk knew then, as certainly as if he’d heard the words aloud, that it was Bobby’s destiny to lead his people to Canada. Maggie had been the catalyst that had drawn the two of them together. She had been the link between the two worlds. Her love for the Lakota and the land had bridged the gap between the past and the future.

Bobby Proud Eagle did indeed belong in this time. He was the medicine man his people needed. It was his fate to take the people to Canada. He would make his home there with Star-on-the-Wind, while Shadow Hawk remained behind in the Black Hills.

He stared at the moon, bright and full, and knew it was time to take Maggie home. He could not risk her life, and their son’s life, by staying here. Life on the plains was perilous at best. Even if they didn’t make the long ride to Canada and stayed with Sitting Bull’s people instead, there was always the chance of attack by soldiers or an enemy tribe, the possibility that they would have to fight, or take flight in the dead of night. It had happened before, it could happen again. And he knew that such exertion would be fatal for the child, and perhaps for Maggie, as well.

She’d been crying. He knew it the minute he entered the lodge. With a smile of encouragement, Winona went outside, knowing they needed time alone.

“Did she tell you?” Maggie asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, so sorry. I wanted so much to give you a son.”

“We have not lost this one yet.”

“But we will,” Maggie whispered, and a fresh flood of tears coursed down her cheeks. “Oh, Hawk…”

He slid under the buffalo robe and drew her close, one hand gently stroking her hair while she cried.

When her tears subsided, he wiped her face. “I am taking you home tomorrow, Mag-gie,” he said quietly.

“Home?” This was home. Didn’t he want her anymore?

“Back to your time.”

Maggie stared at him, a sudden ray of hope making its way through her tears. Of course, Hawk was taking her home because of the child, because their son’s only chance for life was there, in the future, where modern medicine could stop her miscarriage.

She smiled at him then, certain that everything would be all right. They would go to her time until the baby was born, and then come back here. With childlike faith, she clung to his hand and fell asleep.

Shadow Hawk held her all through the night. He had never loved anyone as he loved Maggie. She was a part of him, would always be a part of him. They belonged together, perhaps forever, perhaps only for a short time.

Tomorrow he would take Maggie to the Sacred Cave. It was the only way to save the child.

Shadow Hawk stood outside his lodge, watching his people ride away. All their goodbyes had been said. Maggie had wept as she embraced Winona and Bobby and Star.

Strangely, Shadow Hawk felt no sadness at his mother’s going. She had adopted Star-on-the-Wind and Bobby as her own, and he knew she would be well cared for into her old age. And somehow, deep in his heart, he knew she would be well and happy with her new life.

When they were out of sight, he bridled his horse, then went into the lodge to get Maggie. Very carefully, he lifted her onto his horse, then swung up behind her. It was a bad time of year to be traveling the plains alone. The
wasichu
would be swarming into the Hills in search of gold; the young men of the Crow and Pawnee would be eager for scalps, but perhaps, like the Lakota, they would be too busy hunting fresh meat to stray into the Land of the Spotted Eagle.

He should have asked Red Arrow and Crooked Lance and a few of the other warriors to ride with him, but it was too late now. He would travel slowly, carefully. Fortunately, the Sacred Cave was not far. With any luck, he could get Maggie there before it was too late. He did not think beyond that, but he could not shake the feeling that his life was about to change in some way that would be irreversible.

The thought of death crossed his mind and he wondered bleakly if perhaps he was going to die, if he would not survive another journey down the Spirit Path. He did not fear death, it was a part of the circle that formed the Great Mystery of Life, but he knew he would miss Maggie, even in the Land of Shadows.

Maggie rested against Hawk, her eyes closed, her thoughts confused. She had been so certain that Hawk had traveled through time to find her, that they had been fated from the beginning of time to be together. But now Hawk seemed to think he had been sent to the future to find Bobby, that it was Bobby’s destiny to lead Hawk’s people to safety in Canada.

“It was my destiny to find him,” Hawk had said, his voice firm with conviction. “And it is his destiny to lead my people to Canada. It is what he was born for.”

“And what about us?” Maggie had asked.

“I think we were meant to be together, Mag-gie,” he had replied, his voice tender with affection. “Perhaps forever, perhaps only for a short time. I only know that I love you more than my life, that I loved you even before I knew you.”

No matter what other reason Hawk might have had for coming to her time, she would always believe it was because they were meant to be together.

With every fiber of her being, she knew she belonged to Hawk, in his time or hers, it didn’t matter.

Yet maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was just a quirk of fate that they had found each other. Somehow, she knew that wasn’t true. Hawk had come to the future and Veronica had found a new sense of pride in her heritage. Bobby had received a vision to guide him through life. And she had received the greatest gift of all. Hawk had given her a reason and the courage to walk again. Not only that, but Hawk had saved the life of Sitting Bull and his people by persuading them not to winter in the Black Hills.

Maggie considered that at length. Sitting Bull’s vision and leadership would have a profound effect on the Plains Indians in the next few years. Without his guidance, the Sioux and Cheyenne might have been defeated at the Little Big Horn, George Armstrong Custer might have survived the battle and run for president.

She tried to project what kind of effect such changes would have had on history, but there were too many factors to be reckoned with, too many unknowns to contemplate, and she put it out of her mind. All that mattered was that Hawk was here and she was with him.

Shadow Hawk kept the horse to a slow but steady pace, making frequent stops so Maggie could rest. She was sleeping now, her head cradled in the hollow of his shoulder. His arm tightened protectively around her waist, his heart swelling with love for his woman. Feeling a tiny foot move beneath his hand, he sent a silent prayer of thanks to
Wakán Tanka
that the child still lived.

He urged the horse onward. Soon they would stop for the night; tomorrow they would finish their journey to the Sacred Cave.

He gazed at the Hills looming before them, closer now, and he felt it again, the premonition that his life was about to change, that he was saying goodbye to all he had known and loved. He knew then that he would never see his mother or Bobby again, that his old life as a Lakota warrior was over.

But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Maggie and the child. If he could just get her safely to the Cave everything would be all right.

Shadow Hawk drew rein shortly before sundown. Spreading a buffalo robe on the ground, he lifted Maggie from the back of the horse and gently placed her on the robe before he began to build a fire.

“I should be doing that,” Maggie said.

“You should be lying still,” Shadow Hawk admonished gently. “I know how to make a fire.”

Maggie smiled at him, her eyes shining with love. “I know.”

He handed her a strip of jerky and the water-skin. “We will reach the Cave tomorrow afternoon.”

Maggie nodded. She knew Hawk had picked the easiest trails, that he was trying to make the trip as easy as possible, but she would be glad when they reached the Cave, glad when she was home in her own bed.

She knew a moment of regret as she thought of all they’d had to leave behind—the people she’d grown to love and respect, the funny little sand lizards, the beautiful cradle Hawk had made with his own hands.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked, offering him the waterskin.

“No. I must fast before entering the Cave.”

“Oh. Should I be eating?”

“Yes. You need the nourishment.” He smiled wryly. “And you are not a holy man.”

Maggie finished the jerky, and then wearily closed her eyes, thinking she’d never been so tired in her life.

She was asleep in moments.

Shadow Hawk sat before the fire for a long time listening to the sounds of the night, thinking of Heart-of-the-Wolf, of Winona and his father, of Bobby Proud Eagle. And then, inevitably, of Maggie. Whatever the future held, he would be eternally grateful for her love, for the happiness she had brought him.

Maggie stirred as he slid under the blanket beside her. “Is it morning already?” she murmured.

“No, beloved. Go back to sleep.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

Shadow Hawk nodded, his throat thick with emotion as he realized this might be their last night together.

“Is something wrong?” Maggie asked. She sat up, suddenly wide awake without knowing why.

Shadow Hawk gazed up at the moon shining brightly overhead. It was full and white, so bright it almost turned the night to day.

“No,
mitawicu
,”
he said with a sigh. “Everything is as it should be.”