Wild Ecstasy (7 page)

“I can undress and bathe myself,” Mariah said, gently easing Nee-kah away from her. “You can go on to your other duties. Your husband seemed angry at you last night for having neglected someone who was in need of your care. Perhaps that is where you should be, even now. We don't want your husband getting mad at you again.”

“My husband sent me here,” Nee-kah said, shrugging. “And as for Echohawk, I have seen to his head wound and fever already today. I have even bathed him with herb water to help get his temperature down. And even after all of this, all he does is sleep.” She slipped Mariah's shirt over her shoulders. “Now, just stand still. I think it is time that mud is washed off your face so that I can see the true features of my friend.”

Mariah was in a stunned state from having heard Nee-kah mention Echohawk's name, and that he was here, only a few dwellings away.

Of course, she thought, her pulse racing. Why hadn't she thought of it earlier? Echohawk
would
bring his ailing people to a neighboring tribe of Chippewa, for assistance.

“This Echohawk you mentioned,” Mariah dared to say, trying to hold on to her shirttail so that Nee-kah couldn't lift it over her head. “Is he . . . going to die?”

“Echohawk is a courageous fighter,” Nee-kah said, jerking and yanking on Mariah's shirt, trying to get its tail end away from her. “He will live. But it will take time. His body is racked with fever.” She stopped and sighed heavily as she placed her hands on her hips, staring frustratedly at Mariah. “Will you quit fighting against my undressing you? I have seen boys without clothes before. Seeing you will be no different.”

Mariah laughed softly, seeing a trace of humor in the moment, yet fearing the end result. She panicked again when Nee-kah forgot the struggle with the shirt, yanking Mariah's breeches down, to rest around her ankles. The only thing left to hide the fact that she wasn't a boy were her bland cotton undergarments. And Nee-kah had already placed her hands at the waistband, beginning slowly to lower them.

Mariah backed away from Nee-kah. “You don't want to do that,” she said shrilly.

“I have never before in my life seen such a bashful boy,” Nee-kah fussed, again placing her hands on her hips.

“Then Echohawk is going to be all right?” Mariah said, changing the subject in an effort to postpone her having to undress, besides wanting to know more about Echohawk.

“Not entirely,” Nee-kah said, taking a slow step toward Mariah. “He was partially blinded by a man's rifle that was used to knock him unconscious. But in time I think Echohawk will be victorious over even that. He will see again. The Great Spirit will make it so.”

Mariah paled, in her mind's eye recalling Echohawk's beautiful large eyes. “Blind?” she gasped. She placed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob behind it. “I'm so sorry. So very sorry.”

“As we all are,” Nee-kah said solemnly. “But he will see again. I do not doubt that for a moment. He is a fighter. He will win this battle. For his people, he must.”

“Why is he here instead of his own village?” Mariah asked, still inching away from Nee-kah, and knowing too well the answer to her own question. She just needed more time to figure out how she could refuse to undress any further.

“People with skin of your coloring came and ravaged Echohawk's village,” Nee-kah said, taking a firm grip on Mariah's shirttail. “He brought his people to my husband's village. They are all being seen to.”

In a flash Nee-kah had Mariah's shirt over her head, and what Nee-kah discovered beneath it sent her head reeling with surprise.

“A boy with breasts of a woman?” she gasped, then fled from the wigwam screaming.

Mariah grabbed up her clothes and held them against her to hide behind, knowing that she didn't have enough time to get back into them.

And she was right.

Too soon Nee-kah had returned, Chief Silver Wing at her side.

Chapter 7

—Bacon

 

 

 

Mariah could not help but tremble as Chief Silver Wing stood before her, for a moment a quiet question in his eyes.

Then she paled and her heart lurched when he grabbed her clothes from her arms, his gaze settling on her well-formed breasts.

Finally he spoke. “Nee-kah came to me with a tale that the young lad who is being celebrated a hero in our village has the body of a woman,” he said, his eyes showing the puzzlement he felt as he looked slowly up at Mariah. “What she said is true, yet I, the wise chief that I am, know that cannot be so.”

He stepped closer and ran his fingers through Mariah's hair. “Yet, still, your hair, the color of the sun's flames, is short, the same as a boy's,” he puzzled further. “It is very strange that you, a woman, should choose to dress and behave as a boy. The Chippewa women would be shamed should their hair be clipped, unless, of course, it is done while mourning the loss of a loved one. And they would not wear men's breeches and shirts to hide the wonders of their bodies. Why would you? Tell me. I am here to listen. Tell me, even if your deceit is for the Chippewa only!”

Feeling cornered, Mariah realized that she had no choice but to answer him.

Yet for now she would tell him only half-truths.

“It is not of my doing that my hair is cut and that I am wearing the clothes of a boy,” she blurted out, her pulse racing. “I am a woman forced by an evil father to dress and behave like a boy! I have fled my father's wrath. I was on my way to Fort Snelling, to seek help there, and to live my life as a woman.”

Without taking his eyes off Mariah, Chief Silver Wing spoke to Nee-kah. “Go. Get one of your dresses and a pair of moccasins,” he said softly. “Bring them here.
Wee-weeb
, quickly, my wife. Quickly. This woman has suffered enough humiliations because of an evil father.”

Nee-kah rushed away. Mariah breathed much more easily. Then she stiffened again when he resumed questioning her.

“Am I wrong to believe you?” he said, thrusting her clothes back into her arms for her to hide behind. “Or is that innocence I see in your eyes enough, to know that what you say is true?”

“I am telling the truth,” Mariah said, fearing that, as astute as he was, he would see beyond that which she had already said, and would demand to know more.

“Why did you not reveal this to us sooner?” Chief Silver Wing asked calmly. “And how did you know the skills of a rifle so well that you killed the water moccasin with one gunfire?”

“Not only did my father force me to dress as a boy, he also forced me to behave like one,” Mariah said, glad to see Nee-kah there again, hoping that she would somehow draw the conversation away from the direction it was taking. “I was taught well the art of firearms. Also, the art of speaking some of your Chippewa language. My father told me that all of this was for my survival.”

“In part, he was right,” Chief Silver Wing said, taking the buckskin dress and moccasins as Nee-kah handed them to him. He leaned toward Mariah. “Take these. Wear them. You are now a woman. And you are a pretty woman, except for your hair. It looks like it is just growing out from a scalping.”

“My father even forced this disgrace of cutting my hair upon me,” she said, taking the garments, relishing their softness against her flesh.

“This father you speak of with anger,” Chief Silver Wing said, kneading his chin thoughtfully. “Would I know him? Is he among those who trade often at Fort Snelling?”

A sudden fear gripped Mariah's insides. “My father has been to Fort Snelling,” she murmured. “But not often. It has been a while now since he has been there. Others go for our supplies.”

“Then I would not know him,” Chief Silver Wing said, shrugging. His eyebrows forked. “You have yet to tell us your name.”

“Mariah,” Mariah said, yet not offering her last name. There was a chance that Echohawk had recognized her father and had known his name. Never could she breathe the name “Temple” across her lips while in the presence of the Chippewa.

“Mariah,” Chief Silver Wing said, his eyes smiling down at her. “That name—it has to do with the wind, does it not?”

“Yes, Mariah is the wind,” she said, smiling back at him, relieved that he did not ask her last name.

“No-din,”
Nee-kah offered softly as she stepped to Mariah's side. “
No-din
means ‘wind' in the Chippewa language. Would you mind if we called you No-din?”

“Please do,” Mariah said, sighing. “That is so lovely.”

“After you eat and rest, you will be accompanied by many braves safely to Fort Snelling,” Chief Silver Wing said, placing a hand to her bare shoulder. “You will always be remembered by my people. You saved two of our most prized possessions. Our youth is our future.”

Mariah was not hearing everything that he was saying. What had stuck in her mind was that she would soon be escorted to Fort Snelling. Earlier, that was what she would have wanted. But now that she knew that Echohawk was in this village recovering from his head wound, she did not want to leave.

Somehow she wanted to be able to see him. If she could, she even wanted to find a way to make everything up to him.

“Does it matter how long I stay in your village?” Mariah asked guardedly, not wanting to arouse their suspicions about her reason for asking.

Echohawk!

“But you were trying to escape our village only a short while ago,” Chief Silver Wing said, his eyes narrowing. “And you now wish to stay? Be a part of us?”

“I only now realize how weak I am from my recent adventures,” Mariah quickly explained, the white lie slipping easily across her lips. “It could take me days to get my strength back. Would you mind if I stayed until . . . until . . . I have?”

She paused, then smiled up at him. “And until only a short while ago I wasn't welcomed in your village as a friend,” she murmured. “You considered me an . . . enemy. I saw no choice but to try to escape.”

Chief Silver Wing's eyes lit up and he nodded. “
Ay-uh
, yes, that is so,” he said. Then he touched Mariah's mud-caked cheek. “
Nee-gee
, friend, it is time for my wife to make you pretty.”

With that, he turned and left, leaving Mariah and Nee-kah alone, quiet in their exchanged admiring glances.

And then Nee-kah giggled and rushed to Mariah, taking the buckskin dress and her other clothes from her arms. “First you must be bathed,” she said, tossing the clothes aside. “And then your hair will be washed and combed, your cheeks will be reddened with the juice of bloodroot, and then you will eat heartily! Your weakness will soon be gone. You will be shown everything of my village. My people see you as someone very special.” She stifled another giggle behind her hand. “They are going to be very surprised to see your transformation from a mere boy to a beautiful lady.”

“You don't know how anxious I am myself to be able to wear a dress,” Mariah said, gazing down at the buckskin garment, beautifully decorated with colorful beads.

She gazed also at the moccasins. They were puckered around the front, Chippewa-style, intricately designed with beads and dyed porcupine quills.

Mariah fell to her knees beside the basin of water, bent over it, and splashed some onto her face. When Nee-kah offered her a cloth and a scented bar of soap, Mariah looked up at her questioningly. “The soap,” she said. “It is perfumed.” She looked then at a comb that Nee-kah had removed from a birchbark case. “And you even have a comb. I would have never guessed that you would have such luxuries as these.”

Nee-kah knelt beside Mariah, proudly clasping the comb. “
Ay-uh
, Nee-kah has both perfumed soap and a comb,” she said, her eyes dancing. “My chieftain husband acquired these for me at Fort Snelling after he heard that I was carrying his child.” She glanced down at her comb, then back at Mariah. “I consider both things my most cherished possessions.”

“And you are sharing them with me?” Mariah said, touched by Nee-kah's continued generosity and show of friendship.

“Friends share many things,” Nee-kah said, laying aside her comb. “Now let this friend scrub the rest of the mud from your face and wash your hair.” She frowned as she gazed at Mariah's short-cropped hair. “You father should be ashamed for forcing you to wear your hair in such a fashion. It would please Nee-kah so much to be able to braid your hair and wrap it in long rolls of otter fur, to make you even prettier for my people to see.”

“It will take many months for my hair to grow long enough for braiding,” Mariah sighed, then bent lower over the basin as Nee-kah busied her fingers smoothing the soap across Mariah's hair, then washing it vigorously. “I know that I will grow impatient while waiting, for I was so proud of my long hair. While Father was cutting it, it was as though a part of my heart was being torn away.”

“If you wish, I will help you pass the time required for your hair to grow.” Nee-kah said anxiously. “It is wonderful that you proved to be a woman! We can do so much together!” She paused and leaned her face down close to Mariah's. “And we can talk about so many things. I love to talk. Do you? How many words do you know in the Chippewa language? I can teach you so many more!”

Mariah laughed softly, finding Nee-kah so refreshing, and such a joy to be around. Mariah had been denied any female relationships since her mother's death. Her father had been determined to turn her totally into a man.

“I know some Chippewa words,” Mariah said, wrapping a towel around her hair, rubbing it briskly. “It would be so nice to be taught more.” Her eyes wavered as she wondered just how long she could delay leaving.

She placed the towel aside and quickly washed the rest of herself, then was glad to finally be able to put on the dress. She ran her hands down the full length of the buckskin garment, having never felt anything as soft, as comforting, to a body that had become so used to coarse fabrics.

Nee-kah stepped away from Mariah and gazed with parted lips at her. “You are most
mee-kah-wah-diz-ee
, which means ‘beautiful,'” she said, sighing. “The mud had hidden your better qualities beneath it. But not so much that I was unable to know that you were too pretty to be a boy.”

Mariah smiled at Nee-kah, enjoying feeling feminine again. She had ached to wear a dress for so long, and to have someone compliment her, instead of having those sidelong glances from men who were surely thinking that she was one of those boys that preferred boys over girls.

Nee-kah went to Mariah with a buckskin pouch. “Hold this,” she said, thrusting the pouch into Mariah's hand. “It contains a mixture of herbs and bark that I will rub into your hair. It will give your hair luster, strength, and life. Hopefully, it will even encourage it to grow much faster.” She began rubbing the mixture into Mariah's hair. “The Chippewa wear their hair long not only because it is more beautiful that way but also because we believe our strength is in our hair. So shall it be for you one day, once your hair has grown to its desired length.”

Mariah was half-hearing what Nee-kah was saying, her thoughts having strayed back to Echohawk. She had to see him. And she wanted to spend some time with him. It was her plan to get permission to assist Echohawk however she could, to make up for his misfortunes caused by her father, and even herself.

And because he was partially blind, not able to see her and make out her true identity, she would be able to get away with her scheme.

“Nee-kah,” Mariah began, ready to test Nee-kah's true strength of friendship, “you have spoken of Echohawk. You said that he was not well. And you also said that you have been assigned to look after him.”

“
Ay-uh
, yes, that is so,” Nee-kah said, stepping away from Mariah, nodding approvingly when she saw the shine of her hair. She then took the pouch from Mariah and handed her another one, then proceeded with dipping her fingers into this mixture, soon reddening Mariah's cheeks with the juice of a bloodroot plant.

“I know of Echohawk,” Mariah dared to say. “I have heard of his courage. Of his bravery. It would please me so to be able to do something to help him in this time of his sorrow.” She gazed into Nee-kah's eyes as Nee-kah stepped back and smiled, again pleased at how she had made Mariah even more beautiful than before.

“Nee-kah, you know that you can trust me, don't you?” Mariah continued, her voice sounding more guarded than what she would have preferred.

“
Ay-uh
, you have proved that you are a trustworthy person. My people look to you as a hero—or should I now say heroine?” Nee-kah said, taking the pouch from Mariah, setting it aside. “And why do you ask?”

“Let me relieve you of some of your duties to Echohawk. Let me go to him and offer him
my
services,” Mariah said in a rush of words, watching for Nee-kah's reaction. “This is something I could do to repay your people's kindnesses to me while I am regaining my strength before leaving for Fort Snelling.”

Nee-kah was quiet for a moment as she gazed studiously into Mariah's eyes. “You need not do anything else for my people,” she murmured. “You have already done enough. Because of your bravery and concern for human life, did you not save two of our beloved young ones?”

“But I want to do this, Nee-kah,” Mariah said, taking Nee-kah's hands, squeezing them affectionately. “Please allow it. You could show me which herbs to use in doctoring Echohawk's fever. And while I am with him, you could rest awhile, you and your unborn child. Please, Nee-kah? It would make me feel important to be able to assist you in such a way.”