Authors: Sharon Ihle
"Sissy," Daniel said tightly. "It's been nice having you as a guest, but I guess you'll be heading out with Long Belly now, right?"
"Uh, right, Daniel." Like a wooden statue, Sissy turned to Josie, offered a quick hug, and said, "I'll be back to see you soon as I can. Go easy on 'em."
Looking at her friend in a new light, Josie whispered, "Turncoat. Just wait until you need me to stick up for you someday."
''You'll be there," Sissy said, kissing her cheek. "And you'll be there for them boys. I just know it." Then she thanked Daniel for his hospitality and walked out the door.
The cabin grew deathly silent after Sissy's departure and stayed that way until the sound of hoofbeats could no longer be heard. Then Daniel lit into her, his voice eerily quiet.
"I wonder if you might tell me the meaning of the word 'pisspot'?"
A little bell went off inside Josie's brain, a vague but ominous warning. She cleared her throat. "Ah, pisspot? I believe that's pretty much the same as a chamber pot or slop jar, isn't it?"
"You tell me." Daniel smiled, the expression more of a grimace. "I'm especially interested in learning how a pair of innocent young children could possibly be referred to as clay pots that hold urine."
Josie gulped. "I, ah, wouldn't know."
"You wouldn't? Then perhaps you'd like to know how I came by this word in the first place."
She shrugged and averted her gaze. "Not particularly."
Daniel told her anyway. "My sons here asked me what it meant. They said that's what you liked to call them when you weren't referring to them by their given names, Hell and Damnation."
The look Daniel gave her after that shot clean through her the way no spear ever could. It not only hurt, but somewhere deep inside, Josie knew she had it coming. She hadn't tried in the least to be decent to the young boys, even if they were a pair of goblins who sorely needed a good swift kick in the rear.
With a heartfelt sigh, she said, "I'm sorry, Daniel. Honest. I guess I got off to the wrong foot with your sons, and I'd like to make it up to them. And to you."
His expression looked forced now, as if he wanted desperately to stay mad at her, but couldn't deny the apology. With a resolute nod, he said, "All right. We'll start over. These are my sons, Two Moons and Bang."
Josie's hands went to her cheeks. "Oh, Daniel, they're absolutely adorable. How did you ever come up with such unusual names for them?"
He cocked one eyebrow, an expression she took as a warning, and then went on to explain. "The day they were born, their mother got up for her usual morning walk at sunrise and thought she saw two moons, one in the east and one in the west. She went into labor shortly after that and was taken to the birthing tipi where Two Moons was born and named because of what she'd seen."
Josie laughed. "And here I thought it had something to do with his being a twin."
"We didn't even know there were two babies until I celebrated the birth of Two Moons in the usual Cheyenne way." Daniel smiled at the memory. "I fired my rifle to announce his arrival at about the same time a second son put in his surprise appearance."
"Don't tell me." Josie held up her hands. "I think I understand now. Your gun went bang as the second baby was born?"
"My gun went bang," he echoed, rubbing the head of the child on the left.
Josie dropped down on her haunches and studied the boys. To her eye they were as alike as blades of grass. "How do you ever tell them apart?"
"Just looking, it's easy to get confused, but Bang, oddly enough, is a lot more quiet than his brother,"
That little bell in her mind rang again as Josie studied the boys. Ignoring it, she asked, "How am I supposed to communicate with them? I don't know a word of Cheyenne."
"I'm not expecting you to learn a new language." Daniel gave the twins a little shove in her direction. "They're quite capable of making their needs known. Go ahead, boys, let your new ma know that you appreciate her."
Together they said, "We are happy to meet you, Ma Jofess."
The "Ma Jofess" threw Josie for a minute, but something else eclipsed even that.
She looked up at Daniel, incredulous. "They speak English?"
"Sure. They understand it very well, but their verbal skills are a little rusty. Didn't you know?"
"No. I sure didn't."
Two Moons and Bang flashed evil little grins her way, and then the little pisspots turned angelic smiles on their father.
Cold, hard winter, my ass, thought Josie. It was beginning to look as though she was going to have to survive the next four months in the fires of hell.
Chapter 19
They hadn't been but an hour on the trail leading to the reservation camp before the weather turned treacherous for Sissy and Long Belly. When they'd left the cabin, a single cloud rode high in the sky. Now storm clouds stampeded in from the north, surging over the lower ridges and obliterating the higher summits. Cold air settled around Sissy, numbing her fingers and even her toes through the buckskin boots. She burrowed deeper into her buffalo-hide jacket, and urged the mule forward.
"We gonna make it to the reservation before this storm hits?" she shouted to Long Belly, just ahead on the trail.
"It is my hope," he called over his shoulder. "I have no wish to sleep in the snow tonight."
As if prompted by his remarks, a light snow began to fall, swirling around the mule's legs and settling on the ground like wispy clouds. Two hours later, when they should already have reached the camp, they were still plodding through powdery drifts as storm clouds churned above them. Snow began to spiral all around them, sweeping the ground in great, powerful gusts until Sissy could barely make out the spotted rump of the horse in front of her.
When the paint suddenly came to a halt, the mule crashed into its backside and then shuddered to a stop. Long Belly shouted something as he dismounted, but Sissy couldn't make out the words over the howling wind.
"What?" she screamed into the blizzard.
"We are here," he said, coming alongside the mule.
It wasn't until he'd lifted her off the animal and set her an her feet that Sissy realized that they'd stopped in front of a tipi, an enormous structure almost completely veiled from her eyes by blinding snow. Long Belly hurried her inside the ghostly structure, and then gathered a few scraps of wood by the opening and made a small fire.
"I must see to the horses now," he said. "And then I will find you a place to sleep tonight. Warm yourself until my return."
Sissy stopped him as he headed back outside. "Why do you have to find a place for me? Aren't we staying here tonight?"
His cinnamon skin glistening with melted snow, Long Belly smiled in a most peculiar way as he said, "This is my tipi, the place where I sleep. You will have to stay with my mother or another female relative until we can arrange for the ceremony."
Explanation enough for him, he started for the flap again. Sissy beat him to the opening. "What ceremony are you talking about, and why cain't I stay with you like before?"
Long Belly kept that strange smile as he pulled her into his arms and said, "Forgive me, brown woman. I forget you know nothing of my tribe. We honor our women and keep them pure until they are brides. It would not be respectful of you, and my tribesmen would look upon us with contempt if I stayed with you before our wedding ceremony."
Sissy dismissed everything he said except the words "wedding ceremony." Even then, she wasn't sure she heard him right. "Did you just say that we're getting hitched?"
"Hitched?" He cocked his head.
"Hitched," she repeated, almost afraid to use the other term. "Uh, married."
"That is what the wedding ceremony is for."
The look Long Belly gave her was new as he paused to make sure she understood, a gaze so intimate and reverent, Sissy simply couldn't imagine that it had anything to do with her.
"After the ceremony," he went onto say, "we will be given a great wedding feast. I cannot share your bed until this is arranged and done. Do you understand?"
Sissy understood what he was saying, but not why. When Long Belly had first asked her to come to the reservation with him, she'd assumed they would live together as they had at Daniel's cabin. Never had it occurred to her that he would want her as his wife—or that anyone else would, for that matter. Feeling numb all over, as if she were standing naked in the blizzard, Sissy marveled over the thought, unable to speak.
Tired of waiting for her to reply, Long Belly put his hands on either side of her head, crushing the springy curls there. "Why do you look so surprised, brown woman? Did I not tell you back at my brother's cabin, that I have a big need to hold you for the rest of my nights?"
Something bubbled inside her, threatening to boil over. "Sure, it's just that I didn't understand how permanent you was figuring on making it."
"It is the Cheyenne way," he said with a shrug. "It is my way."
Sissy swallowed hard, holding the eruption at bay. "I'm gonna have to think on this some, red man," she said, choosing her words with great care. "And it ain't because I'm worried you won't make me a good husband."
He reared back as if she'd struck him. "You will not marry me?"
"I ain't said no, but I ain't saying yes until I can think on this some." He still looked so crushed, Sissy did the best she could to explain something she didn't entirely understand herself. "I ain't never had a choice before. I sure never had a chance to decide something big, like what I might want to do with my life. I never even got to choose what I wanted for supper. Marrying you seems like a mighty big decision—the first one I've ever had to make. I don't want to make a mistake my first time out."
Long Belly nodded, deep in thought. "You will be happy with me, Buffalo Hair. We will be happy together."
The eruption imminent, Sissy whispered, "I know. Now go on, do what you gotta do, but please don't make me go stay with anyone else tonight—like your ma. I gotta be alone a while so's I can think."
"You may have my tipi. I will find other lodging." With a brief kiss, Long Belly ducked out through the flap, and then carefully closed it behind him.
When Sissy was very sure that he was gone and couldn't hear, for the first time since she could remember, she gave herself over to tears. She cried and cried. When she figured she must be about cried out, she cried some more.
* * *
Ten days later the weather hadn't changed appreciably. When it wasn't snowing, it was too cold outside to do much of anything except quickly take care of whatever business took a body out of the cabin, and then rush back inside for the warmth of the stove. Daniel's little pisspots even took to wearing moccasins, keeping them on whether they were inside or out.
Josie stared through the frost on the window, wondering how much longer she could stand to be cooped up inside with the little heathens. It seemed like all Bang and Two Moons did was run around the cabin like wild Indians, demand to be fed, or just generally find ways to make Josie's life miserable. The only thing she was grateful for was the fact that her monthlies had arrived this morning, a double-edged sword if ever there was one. She was cramping something awful, her breasts were so swollen and tender that she couldn't even stand the weight of her chemise rubbing against her nipples, and if the twins had looked at her cross-eyed, she probably would have ripped their heads off. But at least she wasn't baking one or, God forbid, two of Daniel's heathen buns in her oven.
Josie breathed deeply, more sickened than soothed by the usually comforting aroma of spiced molasses. She generally liked the way the house smelled when she was baking up a batch of cookies, but not for days on end. The twins had never had cookies before and were so fond of them, she'd whipped up a batch almost every day for a week now just to shut them up and give them something to do. Like now, she thought, as they came scrambling down the loft from their nap.
The first twin to reach her slapped a pudgy little hand against her arm. "More cooks, Ma Jofess?"
She turned toward the child and grabbed his wrist, preventing a second assault on her person. His expression bordered on charming and he'd asked for the cookies, not demanded them.
Certain she had this child's identity figured out, Josie said, "The word is cookies, Bang. Cooks are the people who make cookies."
He grinned, not the devilish I-got-you grin the two usually threw her way, but an honest expression of delight.
"Me am Two Moons," he said, proud to have confused her.
"You are Two Moons," she corrected, an automatic response from her years of surrogate parenthood.
"You are Two Moons," he parroted.
"No, I am... oh, never mind. It doesn't matter what your name is, kid. They're still cookies, and no, it's not time to take them out of the oven yet."
His round face fell into a pout, a sure sign that he'd be thinking up ways to scare the hell out of her or just plain piss her off after he'd had his fill of cookies. Since she was in no mood to put up with any more of the boy's shenanigans, Josie decided to distract him. She'd noticed that both twins wore identical little bags around their neck, each of them made of blue and red beads fashioned into some kind of animal complete with round bellies, heads, and short little arms and legs made of strips of stiff rawhide. They vaguely resembled turtles.