Untamed (37 page)

One of the women rose slightly from where she lay, and Daniel immediately recognized her as Walking Strange, wife of Wolf Lies Down. She opened the buffalo hide she'd wrapped around her body to reveal that her belly was terribly swollen.

"I cannot walk far," she said, her voice frail. "The child of Wolf Lies Down lies heavy in my body. He waits for me at your cabin?"

Daniel nodded, intent on gaining her trust before informing her that her husband was dead. His glance went to the lump beneath yet another buffalo robe. "Is your friend well enough to travel?"

"She is called Little Skunk and is very weak. She nurses the daughter of Stump Horn."

Daniel remembered that one of the men had mentioned a family as if there were more than just the one infant. "Where are the other children?"

"Wolf Lies Down took them to the mission to learn their lessons. He thought that if we did not come back for them, the Blackrobe would keep them safe and well during the winter. Is this true?"

Daniel nodded, assuming those children were the sickly boys he'd seen in Father van der Velden's kitchen. In any case, Walking Strange had nothing to fear. Her sons would be fed and no harm would come to them as long as they were on mission property. With himself and The Black as their only means of survival, Daniel wasn't so sure he could say the same about two starving women and a helpless infant.

When morning came two days after Daniel's departure and he still hadn't returned, Josie had half a mind to saddle up the mare and go after him. He'd mentioned the possibility that he might have to spend one night on the trail, but never had he suggested that he would be gone as many as two. Or, God forbid, three. She was already crazy with worry, not to mention slightly deranged after spending two days and nights trying to be both mother and father to Daniel's little pisspots.

Josie regarded the twins, quiet for a change as they gobbled up the pancakes and eggs she'd fixed for their breakfast. When he wasn't huddled with Two Moons, Bang was turning out to be a nice, thoughtful young man, a boy who reminded her in some ways of Caleb. Every chance he got, he'd sneak up beside her, tap on her leg, and whisper, "I got tell you sumpting."

Usually the big secret was nothing more than a compliment about her cooking, her pretty auburn hair, or yet another request to try and wash the magical dots off of her face. Josie made a mental note to ask Daniel to explain that freckles could never be washed away from a person's skin, although God knew she'd tried.

Two Moons, on the other hand, had to be the devil incarnate. Josie could certainly understand that he might harbor a little resentment over the thought of her taking his mother's place in his father's life, and to some extent in his own. She had tried to explain that she would only intrude in their lives until spring, and that she had no aspirations of becoming his full-time mother, but he either couldn't or wouldn't understand. In fact, the little heathen laughed in her face. He didn't, Josie noticed, glancing his way again, mind eating the food she cooked. Maybe if she declared a truce using Two Moon's belly as bait, she'd have better luck with the little pisspot.

By the time the twins finished their breakfast, the wind had come up and gusts stirred the air. Visibility outside the cabin was low as blowing snow smudged the landscape, making it difficult to even pick out the shape of the barn. With each pulse of wind came a temporary canvas of nothing but pure white, a painting of a world that had completely disappeared. The stovepipe groaned under the steadily blowing wind, and the windows rattled in their frames, allowing puffs of freezing air to invade the cabin. Time to close and lock the shutters again.

After wrapping herself up tight in the buffalo spread—all she had by way of a jacket since Daniel had been forced to wear their only coat out into the storm—Josie cautioned the boys to sit quietly at the table, and then she stepped outside into the freezing winds. She'd managed to wrestle the shutters closed on one window, and was heading into the wind to tend to the window at the kitchen table when a flash of something dark caught the corner of her eye. Turning, she could make out the outline of The Black heading toward the barn. Strangely enough, the shape atop the horse looked nothing like Daniel.

Clutching the buffalo spread tightly to her throat, Josie hurried down the stairs and into the blinding storm. "Daniel?" she called, chasing after the animal. "Is that you?"

By the time she caught up with them, Josie could see that Daniel was leading The Black into the barn, and that the odd-looking rider was in fact two Cheyenne women. She also noticed that the stallion, who'd been untrained before, was now dragging a large travois behind him.

Running past the animal and its burden after they'd entered the barn and closed the door, Josie threw herself into her husband's arms. "Oh, Daniel, I was so worried when you didn't come right back."

He squeezed her tightly, and then held her long enough for a thorough kiss. "Sorry," he finally said. "It took me a little longer to get them out of there than I expected. I figured they would at least have a horse, but they didn't. Then we had to take down their tipi and pack it up. Come and meet them."

Taking her by the hand, Daniel led her to The Black. After helping both the women off of the horse, he drew one of them forward and said, "This is Walking Strange. She's going to have a baby any day now."

She peered out at Josie through the hood of her blanket, her eyes both wary and curious, and then let the blanket fall to her shoulders. The woman was filthy, her hair was matted, and there was a large gash on her forehead that hadn't begun to scab over yet. Walking Strange said something in Cheyenne, and Daniel relayed the message to Josie in English.

"She says she is happy to meet you and thanks you for taking pity on her during her time of sorrow." He turned to the other woman, drawing her forward, and said something to her in Cheyenne. When she lowered the hood of her own blanket, Josie saw that she was also in need of a bath and had a fresh gash gouged into her forehead, too.

"This is Little Skunk," Daniel went on to say in English. "She has a baby daughter to care for, but she's been sick and is in need of a little nursing herself."

"Nice to meet the both of you," Josie said, feeling awkward. "They look like they could use a nice hot bath. Shall I go put on some water?"

Daniel didn't bother to translate. "They're starving, Josie. They need food, not baths."

"I didn't know that." She couldn't help but grimace. "Can't they bathe and eat? Just look at them. They're filthy and their heads are cut up. What happened? Did you run into trouble on the way back?"

"No." He glanced at the Cheyenne women, smiled, and then said to Josie, "It's part of the grieving process now that they're widows. They are expected to be dirty and ragged, unattractive, and their wounds are self-inflicted."

Josie shuddered over the barbaric rituals these women put themselves through, but did her best to keep a pleasant expression. She opened her arms in invitation, and said, "Follow me to the cabin and we'll get something hot in your bellies."

Daniel passed the message to the women, but they wouldn't budge. After arguing with them for several moments, he finally gave up.

"They really do need some good nourishing food," he said. "But they won't come into our house. As widows, they're also expected to isolate themselves from the rest of the tribe, and I guess that includes us. I'm going to have to help them set up their tipi before we can eat."

Josie hadn't seen the baby yet, but it if was half as frail as its mother, she didn't see how it would ever live through the coming storm. She couldn't even think about the one woman, Walking Strange, giving birth under such conditions.

"Don't they know they'll die if they don't come in from this storm? It's working up to a blizzard out there, or haven't they noticed?"

"They've noticed." Daniel smiled and touched her cheek. "Once we get the tipi set up and I get a good fire going for them, they'll be just as warm and safe from the blizzard as we are in the cabin. All they'll need then is food."

"I'll go get started on a big pot of stew. You look like you could use a good meal yourself—that and a good rest." In fact, he looked as if he'd fallen asleep standing up.

The blizzard raged on for a full day, dropping an inch of snow for sixteen of those twenty-four hours. Daniel helped to erect the women's tipi on the south side of the barn, protecting it from as much wind as possible. He also tied a guide rope to one of the stakes, and then attached the other end to the main barn door. That way, even in the worst of conditions, either of them could follow one rope from the cabin to the barn, and another from the barn to the tipi.

A couple of mornings after the storm finally let up, Josie made a big pot of soup filled with chunks of beef and dumplings, then directed Daniel to take a large portion of it out to the women in the tipi. As he'd warned, they'd proved to be totally reclusive, accepting nothing from their hosts except food. Josie felt sorry for the widows, especially when Daniel explained that they would isolate themselves this way for at least one year and up to seven, and continued to try coaxing them into the house. All of her overtures were politely turned down.

She was thinking of making a cake for the grieving widows when Daniel suddenly returned to the cabin, his face ashen. He stuttered around a minute, looking positively uncomfortable, and finally said, "Uh—do you know anything about childbirth?"

Since she'd delivered twelve of her brothers, Josie figured she had some pretty extensive knowledge in that area. Still she hedged, afraid of what might be coming. "A little. Why? Is Walking Strange in labor?"

"Ah—yes, and from what I could understand, she's having a pretty rough time of it. Little Skunk is still too weak to be of much use. I was hoping you'd know what to do."

Josie's heart sank. The last difficult birth she'd attended had turned out so badly, she'd cost her own mother her life. Never again did she want to observe or take part in what most folks thought of as, the miracle of birth.

"I'm afraid I wouldn't be much help."

"Can't you at least go look at her and comfort her a little? I don't know what to do."

Josie sighed, knowing she'd never be able to forgive herself if she didn't do that much. "I'll go see her, but that's all. Do they have a pot of hot water going?"

Daniel shrugged, useless as only a man could be at such a time. "I didn't notice."

"In that case you'd better get some water on the stove. Bring it to me as soon as it starts boiling."

Taking the coat right off his shoulders, Josie slipped it on, grabbed the few clean rags she could find, and started for the tipi. She expected to hear at least a couple of yowls coming from inside the thin walls of the buffalo hide abode, but all was quiet, even when she opened the flap and ducked inside. To her surprise, Walking Strange was not lying on her bed, but kneeling on a pile of hay near the fire and hanging onto a stake that had been driven into the ground. She looked up when Josie arrived, her face slick with sweat, then groaned softly and increased her grip on the stake until her knuckles turned white.

"Lie down," Josie suggested, kneeling beside her. She gestured for the woman to recline, but Walking Strange stubbornly shook her head. Seeking an ally, she glanced at Little Skunk, who was nursing her infant in the corner. "Can you make her lie down? I've got to examine her."

Little Skunk just stared back, fear and exhaustion etched in her delicate features. Josie reached for the hem of Walking Strange's dress, and lifted it slightly.

"May I have a look?" she asked.

The mother-to-be nodded, apparently understanding what Josie wanted, and so she raised the dress higher and gauged her progress. The baby's head hadn't begun to emerge, and yet the woman looked as if she'd been straining in the final stages of labor for some time now.

"Lie down, please?" she begged, again using hand gestures to let Walking Strange know what she wanted her to do. The woman still refused to release the stake.

Left with nothing else to do, Josie sat there murmuring words of encouragement and waited for Daniel to arrive with the hot water.

"Is if safe to come in?" he asked from outside the tipi.

"Yes, and hurry," Josie said, desperate for a little help. Walking Strange was sweating profusely by then and straining with no visible results. When Daniel stepped through the flap, she gave him time to hang the water above the fire, and then enlisted his aid.

"You've got to talk some sense into this woman. She won't listen to me,"

He faced the outer wall, looking away from Josie and her patient. "I shouldn't be in here at all. Can't you just show her what you want her to do?"

He bent over as if to exit. Josie stopped him cold. "Don't you dare walk out on me. If you go, I'm going with you."

"But Josie—"

"But Josie, nothing. I try to respect your Cheyenne rituals when I can understand them, but this woman needs help and doesn't seem to want mine. You've got to translate for me."

His back rigid, Daniel gave a short-nod. "All right. What do I say?"

"Ask her if she's had a baby before."

"She has. Can I go now?"

"No. Ask her if this is different from the last time."

He spoke rapid-fire Cheyenne, and then listened to the woman's weak reply. "She says something is wrong."

This was no surprise to Josie. "Tell her she must lie back so I can examine her. I can't help her if I can't see what's wrong."

Again he spoke in Cheyenne and again the woman offered a feeble reply. This time, when she finished speaking, she rolled away from the stake and curled up in a fetal position.

"That's perfect." Josie crawled over beside her, and then continued Daniel's instructions. "Tell her to stay just the way she is, and let her know that what I'm about to do will probably hurt a little."

"Oh, damn, Josie. I can't—"

"Tell her."

He nodded and slumped his shoulders. After explaining things in Cheyenne, he said to Josie, "I told Walking Strange that you were a midwife with great powers. She promised to do whatever you want from here on out. Can I go now?"