Authors: Sharon Ihle
After Long Belly stepped inside, careful to leave the flap open, he offered Sissy the small bowl he carried. "I bring you soup to warm and fill your belly. The snow no longer falls, but the air is like a frozen pond."
"Sit down," she invited him, taking the bowl and setting it aside. "Are you saying that everyone else is outside having supper while I'm sitting here getting waited on like a queen?"
"Many have gathered around the cooking fire," he admitted, easing into a cross-legged position by the opening. "Not all have ventured outside."
His glance fell on a feathered crucifix featuring what Sissy thought might be the Cheyenne version of Jesus, and her polite suitor suddenly became a jealous child.
"Where did this come from?" he asked, grabbing the cross.
"A fellah come by and gave it to me. I couldn't understand a word he said, but he insisted that I keep it."
"Was the man His Bad Horse?"
She shrugged. "He didn't mention nothing about no horses."
Long Belly glared at the figure on the cross. "Hesowxemehne would do this. He has studied at the mission."
"What'd you say his name was?"
"Slippery Monster, a man who once was my friend. I think he carved this dog soldier to make himself proud with Blackrobe at the mission. Now he uses it to court my woman."
Court his woman? Sissy could hardly believe that she had one suitor. How was it possible that she had two?
The crucifix clutched firmly in his hand, Long Belly got to his feet. "Hesowxemehne will be very sorry he came to you after I stake him out beneath the Big Hard Face Moon tonight."
"Hey," she said, climbing to her feet. "I don't want no one getting staked or hurt over me. Your monster friend didn't do nothing wrong or treat me bad. You leave him be."
Long Belly scowled, but said, "I must speak to him then, only speak. And then I will return with a better gift—a fine young horse just for you."
Then he tore out of the tipi so fast, Sissy didn't even get a chance to thank him for the soup. She supposed that she really ought to have at least told Long Belly that she'd finally come to a decision regarding his proposal. She didn't know much about the proper behavior when it came to accepting or declining a man, but it struck her that informing him the minute she'd made her decision would probably be the kind thing to do.
Sissy glanced around the tipi at all her lovely gifts, thinking what a shame it would be when all of this ended—not just the presents, but the adoration and attention that came with them, everything she'd never had before and would never have again.
She would have to tell Long Belly about her decision, no doubt about it. But maybe it could wait until tomorrow.
* * *
Inside the cabin, Daniel was not sleeping, but wondering what could be taking Josie so long. She'd said that she was just going to have a quick look at her stinky friend, not spend the night with the damn thing. He wandered over to the counter and helped himself to a handful of cookies. As he stuffed one of them into his mouth, Two Moons cried out from the loft above.
"No, no, Papa, do not eat," he said in Cheyenne. "Ma Jofess makes these with poison, and you will die."
"Poison?"
Daniel looked up to see that both boys were peering down at him in horror. What in the hell had Josie done to them this time? And why, oh why, couldn't she make a little more effort to get along with the twins?
"What makes you think the cookies are poisoned?" he asked.
"Ma Jofess is evil," he said.
"And says she has bad medicine for us," added Bang.
"She wishes us dead," Two Moons finished. "And even told us of the poison."
Daniel knew that Josie wasn't particularly fond of the boys just yet, and that they hadn't completely accepted her, but he also knew this poison theory had to have stemmed from a big misunderstanding.
"Ma Josephine likes to make jokes," he explained with a chuckle. "But I think they might be a little difficult for you boys to understand. She's been feeding you these cookies for a week now and no one got poisoned." He sniffed a cookie, and then took a bite of it. "They taste and smell exactly the same as they did before—delicious."
With that, he stuffed the rest of the cookie into his mouth, but even that wasn't enough to convince the boys they were safe. They stayed put, whispering to each other in their own unique version of Cheyenne.
Daniel wandered over to the window and glanced outside. Snow was still falling, but in gentle flurries now, making it possible to see the barn. There was no sign of Josie, who should have returned by now. Daniel thought about how nervous the buffalo had been when he tossed some hay to it and the cattle, and a certain uneasiness came over him. What if her damned pet had turned on her, goring a big hole in her chest and leaving her to bleed to death in the snow? It was too real a possibility to ignore.
Daniel swept the buffalo spread from his bed to use as a shield against the cold wind. "You boys stay right where you are," he cautioned. "I'm going to go outside to see what's keeping your ma."
Struggling to wrap his body in the heavy hide, Daniel started for the door about the time it suddenly burst open. Two Cheyenne braves bulldozed their way into the cabin with one of them holding Josie tightly against his chest. He had a big hunting knife creasing the skin at her throat.
The other brave pointed to Daniel and said in his native language, "Put your hands where we can see them."
Daniel let the hide fall to the floor and then spread his arms out at his sides. Also speaking Cheyenne, Daniel said, "As you can see, I am unarmed. Turn the woman loose."
The brave ignored him and directed his next words to his companion. "Daniel Two Skins does not remember us, yet he claims his work is to better the lives of the Cheyenne. He is no different from the white Indian agents who cheated us."
"That's not true," Daniel said. "Remove your coats so I can see who is speaking. And please, release my woman so we can talk as friends."
"Bah, friends."
Still, the brave peeled off his heavy coat and tossed it on the floor. As he helped his companion out of his jacket, Daniel recognized the speaker as Wolf Lies Down, a warrior who'd been banished from the tribe after killing two men during a camp quarrel. He'd left the reservation with his wife, Walking Strange, and a few other relatives, including his children.
Once the second warrior's jacket was removed, Daniel immediately remembered him as Stump Horn, cousin to Wolf Lies Down.
Again trying to get him to lay the weapon aside, he said, "I know you both, and have no argument with either of you. Release my wife and the three of us can have a smoke and discuss your problems."
"We did not come here to smoke." Wolf Lies Down advanced on him, brandishing his knife. "Our children heard much talk at the mission about a great buffalo you keep penned. We have come to claim this beast as our own."
That stinking buffalo. Daniel almost wished he'd never laid eyes on the damned thing. "Take it if you must," he snapped irritably. "But be warned that the buffalo belongs to all of your brothers. They know it is here and that I am keeping it safe for them until the spring. When they come for it and it is gone, they will hunt you down and kill you."
Wolf Lies Down raised a fist and shook it at Daniel. "We are starving. Is it more noble to die with our bellies flat against our spines than at the hands of my brothers? My family will not last this terrible winter if we do not have that buffalo."
Daniel could see how scrawny they were without their coats to hide their slender bodies, and that they were half frozen. He wondered how they had ever found his place or even gone in search of it during the storm that had just passed through. He shifted his gaze to Josie and gave thanks that she couldn't understand the conversation. God knew what she'd do if she realized her captors intended to slaughter her precious pet. He was going to have a hard enough time convincing the renegades that they were wasting time holding her hostage without Josie attacking them.
"Release my wife," he repeated, this time with more authority. "Then we will discuss ways of feeding your family."
"Stump Horn will keep his knife at your woman's throat until we find a way to make this great buffalo follow me to our camp."
Daniel didn't care for the intensity in the warrior's manner or the crazed look in his companion's eyes. He remembered hearing a couple a weeks back that a band of renegades, probably these two here along with their women, had been surprised by a rancher and his cowhands while in the midst of stealing the man's cattle. In the ensuing confrontation, the renegades were run off empty-handed, but not before they killed the rancher. In addition to being shunned by the members of their own tribe, they were now hunted by white lawmen, a fact that would make them utterly ruthless.
If that weren't enough to complicate matters, Daniel realized that Josie's skin had gone pale beneath her freckles and that her eyes were glazed over with fear, a condition that put her in a helpless and dangerous daze. He'd been working hard to help make her understand that the Cheyenne were not so unlike her own family, but now he could see that all his efforts were for naught. If he didn't do something soon to secure Josie's release, she might just up and faint, and thereby invite her own accidental death.
"All right," Daniel said to Wolf Lies Down. "I'll help you get the buffalo, but not until you release my wife,"
"You do not make the rules," Wolf Lies Down jabbed his knife at Josie's ribs. She flinched and, opened her mouth as if to scream, but didn't cry out. Then the renegade said, "Your woman will stay here with Stump Horn and you will come with me to help secure the buffalo for our journey back to camp."
As he recognized the desperation in both men's eyes and the despair in Josie's, Daniel realized that up until this moment, he'd lulled himself into believing that he was playing a game. with her, that their relationship was little more than make-believe husband and wife. Standing here helplessly watching as a knife pressed deep into the skin he' loved to kiss, he could almost feel the blade cutting into her, severing the pulse that had thrummed so passionately against his lips last night. Suddenly he knew what it would mean to lose her—and not as a wife or mother to his sons. As the woman he loved.
"I'll do whatever I can to help you," he promised. In an effort to hide the intense hatred he suddenly felt for this man. Daniel struggled to keep his voice level and reasonably friendly. "But I will not leave my wife here with a knife against her throat."
The renegade's eyes glittered with malice. "Then perhaps you would prefer to leave her behind with a knife
in
her throat." Wolf Lies Down turned to Stump Horn and shouted, "Kill her."
* * *
Up in the loft, as quiet and still as a pair of newborn fawns in tall grass, Bang and Two Moons silently watched the argument between their father and the two angry warriors. In the way of all Cheyenne children, they bad learned as infants that crying or speaking out in times of fear or anger was a danger to the entire tribe, and that the sound of their voices might alert an enemy to their presence. The early lessons were not forgotten.
The boys had seen enough wailing infants taken away from the camp and left alone to cry themselves out to know that they had also received the same treatment. As unruly two-year-old boys, they remembered their grandmother pouring ice-cold water over their heads until they quit fighting and their rage was quenched. Bang and Two Moons knew full well that this was a time for quiet observation. Their instincts were keen.
With just the tops of their heads and watchful eyes above the lip of the loft, they continued to listen to the conversation below. Although Bang didn't understand everything that was said, he sensed that his father and Ma Jofess were in danger. Bang was frightened for himself, but terrified that some harm would come to his father. He was even a little bit worried about the woman. She sometimes made with the mean face when she looked upon him and Two Moons, but then sometimes she smiled at them, too, and she always made good food.
When the hateful warrior, the one who called himself Wolf Lies Down, ordered his friend to kill Ma Jofess, Bang's father lunged toward the warrior, and the two fell to the ground. At almost the same time, the one called Stump Horn drew blood with his knife, and then Ma Jofess crumpled onto the floor.
Knowing instinctively that they were all in grave danger, Bang whispered to his twin, "What can we do?"
Two Moons did not speak or move. He was so paralyzed with fear he didn't even blink when the question was repeated. Left alone with the big decision, Bang crawled silently to the back corner of the room and grabbed hold of the only weapon he could carry in one chubby hand—Long Belly's spiked club.
Creeping back to the lip of the loft, he peered down to see that Ma Jofess was still lying on the floor. His father continued to grapple with Wolf Lies Down. Behind the two wrestlers, Stump Horn approached, raising his knife as he prepared to drive it into the unsuspecting back of Bang's father. His tiny heart pounding with fear, Bang prayed that he would remember the lessons learned at play when he'd tossed toy hatchets as if they were real. He then rose to his knees and flung the old club at Stump Horn as hard as his little four-year-old arm could throw it.
The weapon clattered to the floor a few yards short of its target, but the noise distracted the warrior before he had a chance to stab Bang's father. Stump Horn whirled around in place, then glanced up at the loft.
Laughing evilly when he saw Bang, who'd forgotten to take cover, the warrior muttered something about ridding the cabin of vermin. Then he headed for the ladder.
As Bang prostrated himself beside his brother again, the last thing he saw was a bright twinkle bouncing off the tip of Stump Horn's knife. It reminded him of Wohehiv, the Morning Star, and of the Hanging Road above, known to the whites as the Milky Way. It was said that when a Cheyenne died, his spirit traveled up this Hanging Road to the bode of the Wise One Above.