Chapter Four

Glancing out the cabin window, Blind Deer watched Kade and Tucket as they tended to the morning chores.

These men were curious to her. Neither had tried to sneak into her bed, and although they treated her like a sister, she would continue to sleep with knife-in-hand. To be honest, the men did not truly scare her, but how readily she had become accustomed to the arrangement of traveling with them frightened her a great deal.

Grabbing the bucket holding the breakfast wash water, she stepped to the door and heaved the contents into the yard. Her injured arm gave a hearty twinge, but it was bearable. The wound was much better today, and soon she could leave and fend for herself if she had to. But this was the safest she felt in a long while. And certainly, the safest since parting company with Lord Seton. What could it hurt to stay a while longer?

Refilling the bucket at the stream, she returned to the cabin and softly closed the door. If she stayed, she must not be lulled into false contentment. Nothing had changed. These two meant nothing to her. She must take advantage of their sympathy and kindness, using whatever it took to keep going, to keep searching for her tribe.

She hadn’t always felt this way. Once she had trusted to the future, and to the magic of love and hope. But if measured by grief endured, that was long ago. Now she believed only in herself. To find her Salishan people was the reason for which she lived, and although many years had passed since she’d seen the Bitterroot Valley, she spent a lot of time there in her mind.

The cabin door flew open. Blind Deer jumped and turned toward the noise. Favoring his right foot, Kade lumbered forward and flung himself toward the nearest chair.

“Dang mule.” He bent forward to unlace his moccasin. “Stepped on my foot—not once but twice.”

“Let me help.” She crouched at his side. “Does the animal seek to harm you on purpose?” She slid the leather from his foot.

“No. It was my fault for getting between the two of them hitched to a rail.”

“Then I suppose shooting and eating this animal is out of the question.” She peered up at him through her lashes.

He chuckled and relaxed back in the chair. “Sorry for bursting in on you in such a lather.”

Rolling one of the stumps used for sitting near the hearth closer to Kade, she up-ended it, placed a folded blanket on top, and rested his foot upon the woolen cushion. “I just brought in fresh water from the stream. The cold will help your pain and discourage the swelling.” Soaking a cloth in the icy water, she applied it to the top of his foot. While holding the cloth in place, she noticed a scar near the bruised flesh. Red and twisted, the old wound curved upward, disappearing beneath the leg of Kade’s buckskin pants. The healed scar still appeared angry, as if refusing to be forgotten. “Did the mule do this too?” Gently, she ran a finger across the puckered flesh.

“No.” Kade shook his head. “An Indian brave accommodated me there. After he killed my parents and grandmother.”

Blind Deer drew back her hand as if touching fire. “You must hate Indians.” She leaned away from him.

“Just that one.”

“But not all?”

“Why should I? They haven’t all tried to kill me. At least not yet. Although the Blackfoot tribe does have a long-standing hate for white folk. Since Lewis and Clark came through, many a trapper’s gone under crossing paths with a Blackfoot. But no, I don’t hate all Indians—or even most.”

She had a hard time not despising all white people. And even if he did not, she hated the entire Blackfoot nation. They were forever enemies of her people, always were, always would be.

“They took from you what can never be replaced.”

“They didn’t—he did. There’s a difference. Besides, it was a long time ago, and I don’t have the desire or the wherewithal to persecute an entire group of people. I’ve been too busy just trying to stay alive out here.”

“How is it you were not killed as well?”

“It wasn’t for lack of tryin’ on his part.” Kade’s expression turned thoughtful. “It was springtime, and we’d just moved to Missouri. I was ten years old, and that morning playing down by the creek in the hopes of catching a few bullfrogs. Then I heard a ruckus going on up by the house. When I got there my parents and Gran were dead, and the biggest meanest-looking Indian I’d ever dreamed in a nightmare started coming after me. I stood frozen with fright. He grabbed me by one ankle and held me upside down, shaking me like a big dog with a little rabbit.

“The eagle claw hanging from a strap on his wrist dug into my leg, and the pain brought me to my senses. I twisted and kicked, and broke loose of his grasp, but as I dropped toward the ground, he tried to regain his grip, and the talon gouged a great bloody tear down and around my leg.”

“You were very brave.”

“I was lucky. I hit the dirt running, never knowing how bad I was hurt. In about ten yards I smacked headfirst into Tucket. He shot that Indian dead in his tracks, and then sewed me up. That’s how we met, Tucket and me. He knew my pa from when we lived back East, and as if sent by God to be my guardian angel, he’d come to visit that particular day on his way through to the Stony Mountains.”

She studied the scar anew.

“Now don’t you go criticizing Tucket’s handiwork.” Kade tried to lighten the mood. “It ain’t pretty, but as far as I’m concerned it’s fancier than any stitching ever graced a rich lady’s under-pinnings. Besides, I was jumpin’ around quite a bit while he was sewing.”

Blind Deer smiled. “And how is it you know so much about rich ladies underclothing?”

“We get to town on occasion.”

An unexpected moment of regret flashed through her. He’d shown no interest in seeing her unmentionables. “It was good of Tucket to take you in.”

“That’s what it’s all about, Blind Deer. Folks helping folks.”

More white man ideas. She straightened and turned away, tearing another cloth into long wide strips. Kade and Tucket had taken her in, but as of yet, she felt no gratitude or debt to them. She did not know if she would have done the same for them.

Retrieving her bag of medicines now residing near her sleeping pallet, she selected a small jar of salve and rubbed the earthy smelling cream on his foot where it was already showing shades of purple and red.

“What’s that stuff?” Kade’s nose wrinkled.

“Bear root, cobwebs, and wild mint leaves. It tastes even worse than it smells. Be glad it is for your bruises and not for a pain in your stomach.” Following the application of balm, she wrapped the strips of fabric around and around, starting at his toes and ending just above his ankle bone.

“Well it sure feels better already. Thank you, Blind Deer. I’m much obliged to you for your help.”

“You are welcome, McCauley.” She still couldn’t bring herself to use his Christian name. “You should soak it in the cold stream later.”

“I will, and I reckon it’ll be good as new in a few days. At least I hope so. We’ll be leaving once we catch our breath and finish making repairs on our traps and paraphernalia. We can’t afford for anything to go wrong between now and when we get to rendezvous.”

“There will be Indians there?” She felt his gaze upon her as she busied herself putting away the ointment.

“Yes. There usually are. Quite a few.”

“From all tribes?”

“Again, yes. And plenty of foofaraw and gewgaws a young gal such as yourself might be interested in.”

“I seek only my people.” Inwardly Blind Deer smiled. Did Kade try to tempt her to join them with the promise of blankets, beads, and cooking pots? “Where is this gathering to take place?” Before parting company with Lord Seton at Fort Hall, she had heard talk about the location, but she wanted details.

“It’s on the Green again this year, the Siskeedee-Agie, where it meets Horse Creek. I sure hope things go better there than they did back in ’33.” He gave a shudder. “That was cold doin’s, what with the unexpected icy weather coming on like some bad omen. Then a crazed wolf kept hanging around the camp. The critter bit twelve men. But after they shot that pitiful beast, a snow eater blew through camp, and the weather remained warm from there on out. One thing for sure, a body never knows what to expect at rendezvous.”

“I have heard of animals losing their senses and biting humans.”

“There’s no need for concern,” he reassured. “In all the years Tucket and I have been going, I only heard of that occurring once. Mostly there’s just high spirited fun and tangle-foot induced chicanery. Of course, according to Tucket, there are plenty of other strange happenings in the world.”

“Like what? Strange is not usually good.”

“It can be. Did you see it rain fire that same year? I’ll never forget it. Stars were a shootin’ across the sky one after another. It seemed like the end of creation, or maybe what it must have been like at the beginning.

“Some while later, we met a fellow from London, England, and he called it a meteor shower. Sure was rainin’ stars that night. Ain’t seen nothing like it since.”

“I do remember.” Blind Deer nodded, fighting to keep the sadness from her voice. Her poor vision had prevented her from witnessing what everyone else had enjoyed with awe and wonderment. No one at the orphanage recalled ever seeing such an event. One girl called it watching the stars dance. At such a beautiful thought, Blind Deer had cried, her tears blurring her vision even more.

Tucket came to the door and poked his head in, and her sad thoughts scattered. “How’s the foot? You been gone so long I thought ya went under.” Not waiting for an answer, he ambled forward, grabbed a hunk of Kade’s buckskins just above the ankle and raised the injured leg to facilitate a closer inspection of the foot in question.

“Looks all right to me.” He dropped Kade’s foot only half-gently back upon the folded blanket. “What you doin’ palaverin’ when there’s still plenty of work to do. I knowed a man with only one foot could run circles around you. Why you young beaver don’t know what hard work is.” With a shake of his head, he turned and headed back to the corral.

“I’m comin’ old man. Don’t get your boudins in a twist.” Kade replaced his rather bedraggled moccasin, gained his feet, and made for the door. “Heat must be getting to him. It’s quite a bit warmer down here than in the high mountains.” He paused and glanced back at her. “Thank you again for doctorin’ me up.”

She watched him walk away, his gait fairly even.

When he caught up to Tucket, the old man slapped Kade on the back and pointed to a jumble of traps waiting to be cleaned and repaired. “You bein’ so incapacitated, you can work on those while sittin’ on your backside.”

“But you declared, quite loudly as I recall, you were quitting the beaver business. Won’t be needing no traps.” Kade sounded smug like he’d caught Tucket in a trap of his own words.

“Ones in working condition sell better. Get on it.”

Blind Deer didn’t mean to, didn’t want to, but she smiled, enjoying their antics.