Authors: Sharon Ihle
"Hello, Big Ribs," he said, after a brief, back-slapping embrace with the young man. "I'm pretty well healed. In good enough shape to bring you a few extra supplies to distribute among your families, anyway."
Daniel pointed out the travois behind the mare, but Big Ribs had eyes only for the horse's rider. "And the woman? Is she to be distributed evenly among our men?"
Josie shrank inside her buckskin jacket, terrified by the thought, but Daniel just laughed. "I'm afraid not. This is my new wife. Josie, meet Big Ribs. He's one of Long Belly's many cousins."
As the Indian started for her, she thought of turning the mare and running like hell, but Daniel caught the horse's halter in his hand and led her toward the crowd gathering to welcome them.
As if aware of her fears, he looked up and said, "Remember that no one here means to harm you. Trust me, all right? You'll be just fine."
After that, everything happened so fast, Josie didn't have a chance to be frightened. The crowd swarmed them, everyone talking at once in a language she didn't understand, and then Daniel swept her off the back of the mare. He kept her close to his side, thank God, but was so busy answering the many questions hurled his way, he never had a moment to explain what they were talking about or where they were taking them. Like a big human tumbleweed with Josie and Daniel at the core, the group of braves just kept rolling toward the tipis where the women and children had gathered to stare at the visitors.
A pair of naked young boys suddenly broke out of the pack of children, their bare feet kicking up the snow that remained on the ground, and bounded toward Daniel. Surprising Josie, he not only welcomed them with open arms, but picked them up and crushed them to his chest,
"Oh, Daniel," she said, appalled to see how thoroughly the youngsters were exposed to the elements. "Are these children orphans?"
"Orphans?" Daniel gave her a cockeyed glance from over the shiny black head of one boy. "Why would you say that?"
"Well, look at them." She pointed out the obvious. "It's freezing out here, but they don't have any clothes or shoes. Doesn't anyone care what happens to them?"
"Hell, yes, someone cares—I do." Daniel turned to face her directly, swinging an identical pair of small round faces around with him. "The boys are naked because that's the way Cheyenne children play, even when it's cold."
One of the twin boys shot her a withering look and said something in Cheyenne.
Daniel answered the child in the same language, but Josie did manage to pick out mention of her when he said, "Josephine."
Both boys wrinkled their noses and giggled. But when their father began to speak again, this time in English, the amusement quickly left their faces and they glared at her with something akin to hatred.
"This is Two Moons and Bang, Josie," said Daniel, unaware of their hostile expressions. "They're my sons."
"Sons?" The word alone was enough to gag her. Josie grabbed her throat, unable to breath for a moment. "You never mentioned that you had children. Why didn't you tell me?"
He shrugged. "It never came up, I guess. Aren't they just about the cutest little pups you've ever set eyes on?"
Chapter 16
It was a good thing that Daniel didn't get a chance to ask Josie what she thought of his adorable pups. If he had, he'd have gotten an earful about how much she disliked children, male children in particular, and that she thought it was downright rude of him to populate the world with not one, but two little pisspots at a throw. Of course he didn't question her then and not even later, when the twins ran off to resume playing with the other children, all of them as bare-assed naked as they were. Not that her thoughts on the matter could be shared with him here in the presence of all his heathen friends. And maybe not even later, in privacy. If they ever found any.
She and Daniel were still enveloped in that tumbleweed of savages, although as they strolled through the campsite, more and more men seemed to break off and go in other directions. The chatter continued, however, most of it female and all of it in the Cheyenne language, which made Josie feel alien and isolated.
The biggest surprise was the conduct of the Indians themselves. While she hadn't known exactly what to expect when she rode into the camp of a band of heathens, Josie had imagined that she'd be the subject of malevolent glares and salacious leers. Quite the opposite. The few warriors she did see treated her with respect and dignity, and several of them were too shy to even look her directly in the eye.
When the group had dwindled down to four Cheyenne women, who led Daniel and Josie to a large tipi decorated with paintings of stick figures and horses, he finally spoke to her privately.
Waiting until after the squaws had opened the flap and ducked inside the tipi, he said, "As I suspected they might, my friends here want to honor us with a wedding feast."
"But how can I take part in that when I don't even know what any of you are saying?"
"I'll translate where necessary. For now all you have to do is sit quietly and let the women inside the tipi get you ready for the ceremony."
She glanced nervously through the flap. "What are they going to do to me?"
Daniel laughed. "Nothing you won't like, I promise. They'll dress you, groom your hair, and maybe paint your face a little. That's all."
That's all? "Where will you be while they're covering me in war paint?"
Again he laughed. "Conducting agency business with the tribal council. When you're ready, someone will take you to the feast, and I'll join you there."
Josie snuck another peck inside the tipi. Four pairs of eyes glittered back at her from the semidarkness. "I don't know about this. I'm not sure I want to stay here without you. I'd be lying if I didn't say that I'm more than just a little nervous about the idea."
Daniel touched her cheek, his fingertips warm and smooth again her skin, and then he leaned in close and kissed the spot he'd touched. "I know you're afraid, and I have a pretty good idea why. After you learn a little about our customs and our people, I think you'll find we're not so different from your own family back in Miles City."
This did not reassure Josie in the least. In fact, the thought made her want to turn and run as fast as she could back to the cabin. Instead, she sighed heavily and said, "Oh, I guess it won't kill me, at that. Will you at least be in shouting distance?"
"Until it's time to meet you at the feast, I'll be as close as that tipi over there the whole time." Daniel turned and pointed out a lodge situated in the middle of the camp, one with even more elaborate figures and symbols than the others. "Anything else?"
Josie glanced around, noting that the women and young girls were bustling about the other tipis, some carrying sticks to the large fire ring at the center of camp, some toting cooking supplies. Most of the men had disappeared, and several young boys were playing games with miniature bows or kicking around a leather ball. She almost laughed when she realized that Daniel had been right—the reservation did remind her of home, in far too many ways. Females worked; males played.
"Oh, and another thing," Daniel said, bringing her attention back to him. "When you enter the tipi, be sure to go to your left before you pick a spot to sit down."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "It's just good manners. That, and when you do sit, don't do it cross-legged the way the men do. Women are supposed to sit on their heels or with their legs to one side. Got it?"
Josie had never considered that savages might have rules of conduct to follow, much less a proper sitting etiquette for their women. The idea amused as much as fascinated her.
"Got it," she said, suddenly eager to find out what was in store for her. "See you at the feast—be sure to save me the biggest piece of beaver tail, or whatever it is they're cooking up for us,"
Daniel frowned and wagged a finger in Josie's face, then swatted her backside as she turned and ducked inside the tipi.
He chuckled at the little yelp she made, then waited for her to settle in with the others before turning on his heel and heading to where the tribal council" had gathered. Damned if he didn't want to do a hell of a lot more than just swat that cute little bottom, he thought, eager for the night. He didn't doubt that there would be a few rough spots living with a consarned female like Josie over the next few months, but Daniel suddenly realized that he was actually looking forward to their life together. And hoping it would continue beyond the few months she had sentenced herself to be his wife.
When Daniel reached the tipi that belonged to White Bull, the religious leader of the tribe, he stepped inside the open flap, and then closed it when he realized he was the last to arrive. All the others members of the council were already sitting on beds positioned along the circular wall. Working his way to the right, he eased down on the empty bed between He Dog, Long Belly's younger brother, and their father, High Backed Wolf.
"Your leg has healed?" asked White Bull in his native tongue as Daniel settled himself.
He nodded. ''It's a little sore yet, but good enough to hunt."
The theologian, a man thick of jowl and neck who rarely smiled, passed his favorite ceremonial pipe, the bowl of which was an intricately crafted buffalo carved of steatite. Daniel inhaled several lungfuls of kinnekinick smoke, a mixture of agency tobacco, larb leaves, and willow bark, then passed the pipe onto He Dog. After everyone had their ceremonial puffs of smoke, White Bull got down to business.
"I see you have brought us flour, sugar, and a small amount of bacon, but no other meat."
Daniel sighed. "There was none to spare at the mission. The drought has hurt us all, even the whites."
"Bah, the whites, they are bad. They have deprived us of game, conquered our lands, and stolen everything of value to us." The elder warrior, whose hatred of whites ran deep, shook his fist, rattling beads, arrowheads, and the other decorations befitting his standing in the tribe. "They will not be happy until they exterminate the Cheyenne and all others like them."
There wasn't a hell of a lot Daniel could say to dispute White Bull's accusations. The best he could manage was, "Not all whites feel that way. Many are trying to help our people."
"Humph. The way your officials helped last winter when four of our women died of hunger?"
"I told them about those losses, but by then it was too late to do anything about it." Damned if he wasn't having a hard time defending a system that clearly was not working as well as it should have.
White Bull persisted. "Will you tell them now that we shall all die before spring if we do not receive more rations? The few antelope left in these hills were killed last year, and now the ranchers come and steal what is left of our horses. We also need food and blankets if we are to survive this winter. What will the white government do about these problems?"
"I don't know. I'll write Washington again and make sure they understand how difficult life has become here." This was the part of being an agent for his people that Daniel hated the most. Lying to them. "I'm sure when they understand the situation, they'll immediately send the rations we need so desperately. In the meantime, we'll just have to eat the cattle Long Belly and I are raising."
White Bull snorted, sounding very much like a live bison. "The whites expect us to become farmers and ranchers, but do not give us the proper tools or training. They tell us to water our crops, but allow other whites to live in the best areas where the water runs free and the meadows grow high. Now we are to eat the few cattle we own? If we do that, we will have none left to sell or breed. Already we are forced to eat our seed potatoes. Soon we will have nothing."
Daniel didn't know what to say to that. He certainly couldn't argue the point. Nothing he said would make a damn bit of difference to the old man, anyway. The best he could do was offer the one thing the Cheyenne had precious little of these days—hope.
"We do have one thing of value that not even the whites know about," he said with a smile. "I have in my possession one of the last living buffalos in these parts."
White Bull sat forward so quickly, he almost fell into the fire at the center of the meeting. "This is true?"
Daniel smiled, gratified to see a gleam in the old man's eyes again. "Long Belly's woman found the place where it had been sleeping, and my woman found the beast. She talked to this buffalo and convinced it to follow her to my cabin. It rests there now in my corral."
The men began to jabber among themselves, and White Bull closed his eyes in prayer. When he opened them again, he flashed a rare smile as he said, "This buffalo will be a good thing for our people and good for Nature too, as long as we can keep it for ourselves and away from the whites. But we still need rations. You will tell them again?"
Looking over the head of the religious leader, since he couldn't look him in the eye, Daniel repeated, "I'll be sure to explain exactly what we need when I write my letter."
He didn't bother to mention that rather than mailing it when he finished, he might as well put that letter in the fire for all the good it would do.