Chapter Twenty-five
Not long after the evening meal ended, excited whispers spread through the camp as a young woman raced up to Medicine Woman and began gesturing and speaking in rapid Cheyenne. A moment later the old healer joined Annie and Sam, who stood talking near one of the lodges.
"White Owl has informed me that Sits on a Cloud's time has come," the woman told Annie. "She has requested that both of us attend her in the birthing lodge."
"Me?" asked Annie in pleasant surprise. Having been raised on a ranch, Annie was not unfamiliar with the cycle of life, though she wasn't sure how much practical advice she might offer on the delivery of a child. Still, she felt honored to be asked. "Well, if she wants me there, I'll be happy to come."
With Annie following her, Medicine Woman stopped by her lodge to gather various medicines and pick up the cradle she had made. Then the two women hastened toward the isolated birthing lodge higher on the hillside. Following the healer through the tepee opening, Annie first saw the birthing chair, a low, bottomless rawhide-and-wood contraption, placed a few feet away from the fire. She spotted Sits on a Cloud lying beneath the far eaves on a bed of pelts. The girl was curled up on her side, her face covered with sweat and convulsed with pain.
"Oh, bless you!" cried Annie, rushing over to kneel by her side and take her hand.
Sits on a Cloud did not reply, but Annie took heart when she smiled faintly and squeezed Annie's fingers.
Medicine Woman was untying the bag from her waist. "I will make up the bark medicine to ease her pain."
While Medicine Woman stirred the drink, Annie helped the laboring woman sit up. After Sits on a Cloud sipped the concoction, her discomfort seemed to lessen for a time. Medicine Woman took out her rattle, danced, sang, and made various gestures to the spirits. She threw crushed sage on the coals, creating both thick smoke and an acrid, unpleasant odor. Annie almost protested, certain the fumes were not good for a laboring mother. But she bit her tongue, realizing that for these people, the ritual of burning sage was sacred as a ceremonial blessing.
Annie was deeply moved to note that as Sits on a Cloud's labored deepened, she did not cry out, though she never let go of Annie's hand and her features contorted with intense pain. Medicine Woman brewed additional pain potions, rubbed the laboring mother's belly with pungent salves, and finally placed a stout piece of rawhide between her teeth, so she could clamp down when the worst of the contractions gripped her. Soon Sits on a Cloud's fingernails dug into Annie's flesh, but Annie did not pull away, convinced that no matter what discomfort she might feel, her friend's agony was a hundredfold greater.
When Sits on a Cloud's contractions became constant, Medicine Woman knelt by her and said, "Come now. It is time to go to the birthing chair."
Annie watched in wonder as the woman sat on the chair and, with skirts raised, strained to push out the child, her features dark and twisted from the effort. At last, as Sits on a Cloud emitted a single, harsh cry, Annie watched the tiny blood-smeared infant fall into Medicine Woman's hands. The healer cut the cord with a knife, then placed the child in a bowl of warm water. It was a girl! The baby gave a lusty cry as Medicine Woman wrapped her in a blanket. Annie glanced at Sits on a Cloud to see her eyes wide open in wonder.
"You have a girl," Annie said, her voice thick with tears.
The squaw smiled. Medicine Woman turned and handed the baby to Annie. "Place the baby in the cradle while I attend to the afterbirth."
But Annie was not about to let go of the precious bundle in her arms. She couldn't believe how tiny and adorable the child was. The little brown infant was squirming and flailing its small fists. Tenderness clutched at Annie's heart as the child opened its eyes and stared up at her in a newborn's sober, unfathomable way.
"Welcome to life, little one," she whispered, touching the baby's soft cheek with her finger, feeling a new rush of sweet emotion when the baby grabbed her finger in its tight fist.
After a moment Annie looked over to see that Medicine Woman had again settled Sits on a Cloud in her bed, and was feeding the girl another drink.
"Your daughter is beautiful," Annie said.
Sits on a Cloud managed a weak though radiant smile.
Medicine Woman turned to Annie. "You will take the child to see its father?"
Almost as if it had heard the question and protested being parted from its mother, the baby's little body tensed and it let out a wail. "But aren't you going to allow the baby to nurse and bond with its mother first?"
Medicine Woman appeared shocked. "The child may not nurse from its mother for four days. I will find another mother to nurture it until then. Such is Cheyenne tradition."
As the baby's cry threatened to become a high-pitched scream, Annie saw the exquisite yearning reflected on Sits on a Cloud's face. "But this is not right. These first few hours are when the child bonds with its mother. This should not be done with a stranger. Besides, I read once that the first secretions from the breast include many antibodies that the mother can transfer to the child."
"Antibodies?" repeated Medicine Woman, appearing bemused.
Annie struggled to explain this so that the healer could understand. "Powerful protection against evil spirits."
"Ah." Medicine Woman continued to mull this over as the child's wail reached a terrible, heart-wrenching keening and Annie failed to quiet her. Sits on a Cloud's features grew fraught with anguish. Finally, the healer turned to Sits on a Cloud and pronounced, "We shall try Future Woman's way. Perhaps she brings us wisdom from her world beyond the wind."
The new mother beamed and Annie's heart lit with gladness at this evidence that Medicine Woman believed her and was accepting her guidance. She carefully maneuvered on her knees across the tepee and placed the baby girl in her mother's arms. The child at once rooted to its mother's breast and grew content and quiet.
All three women's eyes shone with happy tears.
A while later, Annie emerged from the tepee carrying the infant, now peacefully asleep in her arms. The night had grown chill, and a snowflake tickled her nose.
Sits on a Cloud was resting in the tepee, while Medicine Woman gathered her potions. Annie was finally taking the child to meet its father.
Finding Red Shield was not difficult; Annie at once spotted him standing with Sam near the large fire at the center of the lodges. She also spotted Moon Calf hunkered down in the shadows near one of the tepees.
All three men silently watched her approach. She went directly to the husband. "Red Shield, you have a beautiful daughter, and Sits on a Cloud is well."
The warrior beamed and took the bundle from Annie's arms, staring down at the infant with a father's pride. "Little Fox will be pleased to have a sister."
Sam was watching the father with his child. "That's a right pretty young'un, Red Shield."
Red Shield nodded respectfully to Sam. "When she is grown, she will turn the heads of all our eligible warriors and demand a bride price of many fine horses."
"I reckon that one will fetch you a herd," agreed Sam.
Red Shield extended the baby toward Annie. "You will take her now so I may see my bride?"
"Of course." Annie carefully accepted the child.
"I will return," the brave said.
Annie and Sam smiled at each other. "How was it tending the birth?" he asked.
She laughed. "I didn't do much tending, though I was deeply honored that Sits on a Cloud wanted me there for moral support." She sighed. "These are such simple people, Sam. They have such pride, dignity, and purpose. When Sits on a Cloud delivered her daughter, she cried out only once."
"The Cheyenne are stoic about pain."
"I find their various rites so interesting," she went on. "Ignorant people call them savages, yet they have a well-defined culture with all sorts of rituals and taboos."
"Kind of like the white man and his ways, eh?"
Annie nodded. Staring down at the sleeping infant, she blinked at a tear, remembering her own family—the parents she'd lost, the brother she'd left behind in another century. She drew a quivering breath. "You know, when I watched this tiny, miraculous life emerge, it reminded me that I've missed out on some pretty basic things in my life. I've had . . . well, other priorities."
"It's not too late," he murmured.
She smiled sadly. "Perhaps. Though I have my doubts, considering the mess my life is in at the moment."
The two were staring at each other in uncertainty when Moon Calf tentatively approached Annie. She turned to see the sacred idiot's eyes filled with heartrending yearning, his arms extended in entreaty.
"What does he want now?" Sam asked, tension in his voice.
"I think he wants the child—perhaps to bless it."
Sam scowled. "I ain't so sure about that."
But Annie relied on instinct and placed the child in Moon Calf s arms. The man gently accepted the baby and cuddled it protectively against his chest. Annie's heart caught in her throat as, for the second time, Moon Calf smiled.
Hoarsely, she addressed Sam. "Don't worry. He won't harm her. He knows how precious she is."
Sam fell silent as Moon Calf, cradling the infant in his arms, began to dance around the fire, his movements as delicate as those of a floating cloud. Large snowflakes began to fall, sizzling on the flames, creating a spooky aura in the night. Moon Calf glided about, singing an Indian chant, a song of joy and exultation. As the light of the fire caught his face, Annie spotted tears streaming down his bearded cheeks. In that moment, she could see his humanity, his frailty, his inner pain. If she lived to be a hundred, she would never forget that sight.
"Oh, Sam."
"I see, sugar." He caught her close, his arms trembling about her. "I reckon you're right about him. And I'm sorry for every unkind word I ever said to him."
They stood embraced, watching Moon Calf dance, hearing his soul-sweet song, all of them locked in a mystical moment beyond time and space. Sparks rose to the heavens as downy snowflakes blanketed the earth.
At last the sound of a neighing horse drew their attention from the celestial scene. Annie watched Red Shield approach, leading a magnificent pinto pony covered with a gorgeous beaded blanket and saddle.
Grinning broadly, the warrior extended the reins toward Annie. "In honor of my daughter's birth, I give you this horse."
She was flabbergasted. "Me? But I didn't do anything."
"My wife and Medicine Woman have agreed that our child must be named for you, Future Woman," he went on. "For this you must be honored."
Annie was already warmed to her soul to be called Future Woman by the People. To have the baby named after her was another great honor. But she still wasn't certain whether to accept the horse. Wavering, she glanced at Sam.
He leaned over and whispered at her ear. "Annie, it is Cheyenne tradition for a father to give away a horse when he is blessed with a baby. You don't have to do anything to deserve it, but it's an insult to refuse."
Grateful for the explanation, Annie turned to Red Shield. "I accept with pride. Thank you for the magnificent gift."
The brave grinned and handed her the reins. Moon Calf came forward, extending the baby toward Annie. Giving Sam the reins, she took the infant. "I'd best take her back to her mother now," Annie told the men. "Take care of my horse, Sam?"
"Sure, sugar," he replied.
Annie reached the birthing lodge just as Medicine Woman was emerging from it. "How is Sits on a Cloud?"
"She is fine. I must find Sam now."
Annie inclined her head toward the men. "He's over by the fire with the others. I'll sit with mother and baby while you're gone."
Medicine Woman nodded and walked off toward the men.
***
Sam spotted his grandmother's approach and came out to meet her, leading Annie's pony. "Hey, you sure did a fine job of bringing that baby into the world tonight," he said. "Red Shield gave Annie this horse in tribute."
A faint smile curved the old woman's lips. "I must speak with you about your woman, Grandson."
"Sure," he said. "Just let me tie up this pony and I'll join you at your lodge."
By the time Sam arrived at the tepee, Medicine Woman was seated outside by the fire, and the snow had tapered off. He plopped down beside her. "So, did you talk to Annie?"
"She spoke to me."
"And what do you think?"
Medicine Woman's sober gaze met Sam's. "I have pondered much the story your woman has told me."
"And?" he asked tensely.
Medicine Woman frowned at Sam. "Grandson, why do you refuse to believe that which you do not understand?"
"I ain't sure I follow you," he replied with a scowl.
Medicine Woman stared into the flames. "I am wondering why you do not believe your woman. I have meditated long on this, and it is clear to me now that your Annie is telling the truth."
Sam grunted as if his gut had been punched. "You believe her?" he asked, stunned. "But what she says is plumb haywire."
Medicine Woman's expression grew deeply troubled. "Grandson, do you believe in our ways?"
Sam shrugged. "Well, I reckon so."
"You came here many moons ago as a young man. You rode with our warriors and starved yourself to see visions of our gods." Her features fraught with sadness, Medicine Woman shook her head. "Once, you were Tsistsistas, but I fear you have lost the connection with the Cheyenne in your soul. You have abandoned the world of the spirit."
Sam appeared deeply distressed, reaching out to touch his grandmother's gnarled hand. "If I've lost touch with the old ways, I didn't mean to."
"You refused to believe our sacred idiot when he told you where to find your woman," she pointed out.
"But didn't I listen when you urged me to heed Moon Calf s advice?"
"That is true," she conceded. "But now that you have brought your woman here, you refuse to see the truth beyond your own eyes."
Sam frowned over her words.
Passionately she continued. "Grandson, how can you claim to believe in the Wise One Above, the Place of the Dead, and the people who live under the water, but not believe your woman has come from yet another place beyond our vision?" She gestured at the black heavens. "Look above you at the stars—how can you know what beings dwell there, in other worlds? Look around you at your brothers—see our life here. This band is lost in time. Why do you not believe your woman can be lost in time, too?"
Sam gazed up at the heavens, electrified by his grandmother's uncanny wisdom. "Well, I never quite thought of it that way."
"You must believe in your woman, or the two of you are doomed," advised the grandmother. "You love her, do you not?"
Sam smiled. "Oh, yes. I do."
"I can see it in your eyes when you look at each other. I know it is difficult for you to admit your mistakes, but you must listen to her story and believe. Pride and arrogance are a good path for the warrior, but a disastrous path for a husband and provider."
Sam mulled over Medicine Woman's dire pronouncement. "What can I do?" he asked at last.
"You must stand by her. You must go find the real Rotted Rosie and uncover the truth."
Sam fell silent. Could Medicine Woman be right? Had Annie been telling the truth all along? It seemed outrageous, but he could not deny Medicine Woman's shrewd words, or his deepening feelings for Annie, which kept arguing that she was anything but a murderess.
Oh, Lord, if he was wrong, then no wonder Annie had held herself apart from him. He considered his own proud, stubborn behavior and groaned. Well, he was a man of honor, and if he truly had erred, then he'd just have to swallow his pride and set things right between them.