White Eagle's Touch (39 page)

Husband?
Father? What was going on here?

White Eagle nodded toward the white woman, toward his friend, though his countenance, too, showed little expression. “My friend,” White Eagle said at last, “it has been many moons since I have beheld my more-than-friend. My heart is happy that he has returned. And I am glad to see he has come back with his wife and her family, safe and well.”

The two men just nodded at each other, staring, and Katrina came to understand by this that, amongst these people, such a greeting denoted the greatest of admiration and affection.

“And who is this?” It was the white woman speaking, nodding toward Katrina.

White Eagle’s expression didn’t alter in the least as he said, “This is my wife, Shines Like Moonlight.”

“This is your wife?” It was the man called Gray Hawk who spoke.

And while the lady was left to ponder this, Gray Hawk, looking more closely toward
her,
said, “So this is the old trader’s niece. It is good that you have married her and that she has, at last, come home.”

Good Lord above, did this man know her too?

“Excuse me,” the English lady said to her husband, “while you and White Eagle talk to one another, I would like to be introduced to White Eagle’s wife.” And with this said, the other woman rushed over to take Katrina’s hands in her own. “I am Lady Genevieve Rohan, and I, too, have married into this tribe, as you can see.”

“Yes,” said Katrina, smiling and gazing good-naturedly into the light brown eyes of this remarkable lady.

Lady Genevieve glanced around her, at the commotion taking place around them with the steamboat’s arrival. She said, “Come with me, I am certain we have obtained a room in the bourgeois’ house for the night. We must talk and get to know each other, especially since our husbands are more-than-friends. I am certain we have a great deal in common. Come, let us talk.”

Lady Genevieve Rohan took hold of Katrina’s arm, and chatting to her all the while, led Katrina away.

They might have reached their destination with no further incident, but just at that moment, through the gates, came a party of Indians, entering into the courtyard and bearing with them the strangest-looking Indian Katrina had ever seen.

Although there was something…

Something here didn’t appear quite right, and Katrina found herself looking at that foreign-looking figure more closely.

Good heavens above, that was no Indian, that strange-looking one. That was the
marquess.

The marquess, minus his wig, and…dressed in Indian women’s clothing…

Oh, dear. Whatever had happened to him?

“It seems they had to dress him that way,” Lady Genevieve told Katrina much later, as they sat within the bourgeois’ house, enjoying a cup of tea. “After the Indians had found him, they tried to get him to help them hunt and to make weapons, but the man refused. And to an Indian, when a man appears to lack courage, or to be inclined toward more womanly activities, they dress him in women’s clothing and make him do the work of a woman. Either the man proves himself, or, if he likes it, he settles down to a life where he is considered a ‘man-who-is-a-woman.’”

Genevieve Rohan, having asked her husband what had happened, tried to explain it all to Katrina, while Katrina, sitting, listening, could hardly credit it.

What had happened, it appeared, was that the marquess had lost his way one day while he had been out hunting with his dogs. The Indians had found him, but could not bring him to the fort right away, and so they had taken him with them.

But no sooner had they done so when they discovered that this man not only refused to do his share of the work, he also had about him some airs that could only be described as “womanly.”

The Indians had acted as was their custom and had dressed the marquess in women’s clothing, setting him to work doing their cooking and mending.

That the man had actually taken to the tasks was not something Katrina wanted to contemplate.

She supposed she would have to go and speak with the marquess at some point and ensure his safe journey back to England, but at the moment, she had more important things to consider. She asked, “How did you come to be married to Gray Hawk?”

Genevieve sighed. “It is a long story. Are you certain you wish to hear it?”

Katrina nodded.

“It happened last year that I needed to find a representative from the Blackfoot tribe to help my father finish his book on the native American Indians. He specializes in this sort of thing. Anyway, I came here—”

“On your own?”

“I had brought a servant with me.”

Katrina just stared at the woman. “Weren’t you afraid?”

“Terribly, but it was an important project, and my father is very dear to me.”

“I see. Please, go on.”

“Well, where was I? Oh, yes, I came here and had an Indian captured, because I could not convince one to accompany me back to St. Louis. That Indian was Gray Hawk.”

Katrina drew her breath. “He must have hated it.”

“Yes, he did, and he eventually turned the tide on me by escaping and taking me as his captive.”

“How romantic.”

“Hardly. He hated me.”

“Oh, dear. What happened?”

“We came to know one another well on the journey back to his band of Pikuni, well enough that he married me and the rest is…behind us now. I lived for a while amongst the Indians, and I found them to be hospitable. In truth, I grew to love them, especially my sisters—Gray Hawk’s sisters.”

“And so you will live there, with the Indians, giving up all you know of your own world?”

“Sometimes we will. Sometimes we will travel to St. Louis and spend time there with my father. In all, it has been a very happy year. I would be with Gray Hawk, no matter where we live. But we have both managed to bend a little for the other. I’m not saying we will never have another problem again, but we will see them through, together. That’s the difference. And you?”

Katrina gazed off, looking through the windows in the bourgeois’ house to the main section of the gate.

“I came here because I had to. My uncle, you see, is a trader, and has lived here for so many years, I don’t believe he remembers anymore what civilization is. He, unfortunately, controls the strings to my inheritance and my dowry. He demanded he give approval to my fiancé before I could marry. I had been engaged to the marquess.”

“Oh, dear. And now, instead of marrying the marquess, you found love with White Eagle, instead?”

“Yes,” agreed Katrina, “something like that.”

“And…does your uncle know you have married White Eagle?”

“No, I have not yet even met my uncle. We are to rendezvous with him here.”

“I do not believe he will approve of the marquess.”

Katrina smiled. “I think that you are correct.”

Lady Genevieve smiled and took Katrina’s hand. “We have much in common, you and me. I think I should tell you that with our husbands being more-than-friends, we will probably see much of one another. Did you know that a more-than-friend shares everything that they have with one another—except their wives, of course. Perhaps we could do the same. When we travel to St. Louis, mayhap you could, too. And together, maybe you and I could learn more about their tribe. Perhaps the four of us, together, can forge out a place in this wilderness.”

Katrina gave Genevieve a warm smile. What a wonderful woman she was. And Katrina knew her gaze mirrored what was in her heart as she said, “I would like that very much. But come, I worry very much about something. I brought a maid with me when I first traveled here.

She and I became quite close, but we were separated on a long trip that I made to Fort McKenzie, and I have yet to find her here. Would you care to accompany me to Mr. Hamilton, that I might inquire of her?”

“I would love to.”

And with this said, both young women rose to go in search of Mr. Hamilton, the temporary bourgeois.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“What do you mean she is not here?”

“Just what I say, m’dear,” Hamilton replied, his nostrils flared in distaste, his head cocked back exactly, perfectly so. “She is not here.”

“Well, what happened to her?” Katrina demanded of the man, while Genevieve, her new friend, stepped up behind her, reaching out to take hold of Katrina’s hand.

“Taken away by Indians, I say.” Hamilton made to brush off lint from the linen of his shirt.

“And…?”

“And what, m’dear?”

“Didn’t you send anyone after her?”

“Of course. But my men couldn’t find her.”

“How many men are still searching for her?”

“Why, none. That Indian chap she was with followed her, said he’d bring her back. No need to do anything further.”

“No need? Why, there is every need. She is a white woman, captured by Indians who have no great love of the white man, if what I have heard of the Assiniboin is correct. How can you just sit here, doing nothing, while she is still in danger?”

Hamilton peered down the long end of his nose at Katrina, as he said, “I say, m’dear, is this girl of some social class or of a notable position that I should worry about her?”

“Social class? What has that to do with it?”

“Why, everything, m’dear. Couldn’t have a
lady
in such a predicament, but your friend was a mere—maid, was she not? And Irish at that.”

Katrina didn’t say a word.

“There,” said Hamilton, “you see? She was not only no
lady,
it was as I believed. She is Irish. Far be it for
me
to do something more for that sort.”

“She is my friend, and I demand that you do something.”

Hamilton pursed his lips, as though he weren’t certain if he wished to smile, or if he had encountered something sour in his mouth.

“I require that you send someone after her at once.”

“Yes,” Genevieve Rohan spoke up from behind Katrina, “it is the only sensible and charitable thing to do. And it must be done with all possible haste.”

“And who are you, that you request such a thing? A woman who has been out roaming the countryside with an…” Hamilton made a disagreeable sound in his throat, “…an Indian? And you?” He sent a niggardly gaze toward Genevieve. “A woman who has the audacity to marry one of them?”

Genevieve raised an eyebrow. “At least I can return to English society if I so choose, and I can use my own given name, unlike another here, who, because of his own rash actions must needs to take on a different name, and who can never again visit his home country.”

Hamilton looked momentarily abashed, though the look was quickly gone as he cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I am still unable to leave the fort without guards throughout the winter.”

“It would only require one or two men,” said Katrina.

“So it would seem. However, both you young ladies might have noticed that another fort, Fort William, is being built just across the Yellowstone River by the opposition. I could not possibly let go of a single man when our trade is thusly threatened. I’m sorry, my dears, it just can’t be done.”

“Why you are nothing but a…a…coward and a…”

Genevieve gently touched Katrina on the shoulder, pulling her gradually away.

“…snake.”

This made Hamilton snicker.

“We’ll get her back,” declared Katrina, “despite you and your petty attitudes, we’ll get her back.”

As Hamilton rejoined with, “Why, very good, my girls, very good,” Genevieve gently led Katrina away, to the comfort and sanctuary of their rooms.

“Do not worry,” said White Eagle sometime later, after Katrina had approached him. “I heard what happened to your friend. It seems some Assiniboin warriors forced their way in here during the trade and stole your friend from these white men before they could defend her. Night Thunder had been sent out that day to do the hunting for the fort, and so he was not here when it happened. But he set off to rescue her as soon as he learned of the deed. He will not relent until he has found her. And I promise you, he will keep her safe.”

“But what if he doesn’t get to her in time?”

White Eagle stared at Katrina, and though he looked at her, continuing to hold her gaze for many, many moments, he looked far, far away. Finally, he shook himself, and, taking his wife’s hand in his own and pressing it to his heart, he said, “She is still well, she lives, that I could see, and she is within the sight of Night Thunder. So do not worry overmuch, he will care for her. I promise you.”

Katrina just gazed at her husband for several seconds before she said, “What did you just do?”

“I went to go and search for your friend.”

“You what?”

“I told you that my grandfather was a medicine man and a man of great power. He taught me to do many things. One of them was to be able to leave the body to go and search for enemies, or in this case, for your friend.”

“To leave the body?”

“Yes,” he said. “We are all of us spirits encased within the body. It is possible sometimes to leave it without causing it harm. Out of the body, one can do many things that are not possible inside it.”