Chapter Eleven
That night, Blind Deer stood barefoot and silent in the dark cabin, sleep eluding her. Kade’s slow, even breathing indicated he slumbered undisturbed.
He had made great strides today, and like he promised they would leave soon. They must, and her brother would travel with them. What would Nikota do after rendezvous? The HBC was enemy to her brother now too. They would all be on dangerous ground when they arrived there.
Gazing through the partially shuttered window, she stood transfixed by the netherworld delivered silently during the borrowed time found only in the deep of night. Everything within her view was peaceful and still, unlike the thoughts tearing through her mind.
Nikota’s tracking skills and good fortune had reunited them. She also believed it to be an answer to her many prayers to her ancestors. What a joy to see him again. He had been the best possible messenger but bearing the worst possible news.
A cloud passed over the moon, plunging the landscape into darkness, just as the shadow of concern dulled her bright feeling for Kade.
He was becoming too close to her.
During these last few days, they had shared many a tender touch and a few stolen kisses, the true emotion behind these innocent actions mounting to a fevered pitch. The rapture building between them was ripe, ready to flower into a passionate display she may not be able to resist.
Kade would soon be healed enough to approach her with a man’s yearning to match her own feminine desire. But surrendering to him physically would be a mistake. Giving him her heart would be an even bigger disaster. So many people she cherished had died, leaving her stricken by their loss. Besides, he was a man who cherished his freedom, and she must return with her brother to her people. Although the survivors were few, they were in great need of help—she would not turn her back on them. This meant she must be content with only Kade’s friendship, and not take or give anything greater.
To share one’s love the first time was a gift, to be given only once, never to be reclaimed. A precious gift to be treasured and remembered together for all the years to come. But after rendezvous, she must leave Kade. There would be no years to come. Yet what little they could share, if only for a short while, would become a good memory to help defeat the bad ones.
The sky cleared and moonlight streamed in through the window and tiny spaces in the wall where the chinking was missing.
“It’s a glorious night.”
She gasped in surprise at the sound of Kade’s voice. He drew near, his arms encircling her from behind. Held a willing captive, her heartbeat quickened. She pictured his broad chest and strong shoulders, and unable to resist, she leaned back, surrendering to his embrace.
He pressed gentle kisses to her arched neck, his hands gliding upward from her waist to her breasts—the thin nightshirt given to her at the Fort created only an imperceptible barrier. Desire fought reason and almost won. But he wasn’t hers to keep, and being with him would be dangerous as well as wonderful. What if she got with child? She could barely take care of herself.
His right hand trailed lower to the space between her legs, and thoughts of logic dissolved away when he groaned out her name and pressed closer from behind—his need and desire as obvious as her own. She knew this was wrong. It would make their parting of ways even more difficult.
“I cannot do what you silently ask of me. I’ve never been with a man. This is not my time.”
If only she had still been living with her tribe, wearing a virgin’s cape, announcing to all men her status—making such words unnecessary.
Kade stilled his movements, issuing a sound between a growl and a groan. She trembled, but not with anticipation. Mistrust reared its head, and for a moment she feared his reaction. Did her declaration anger him? Would he try to have her anyway?
He stood a little straighter, and the cool night air slipped between them. “Well we’re even on that score. I’ve never been with a man either.”
His attempt at humor quelled her fright. She felt guilty for thinking he would be so cruel as to force himself upon her. This time she expected the worst and found the best.
Remaining at her back and seeming to understand, he rested his hands upon her shoulders.
“I’m not giving up on us, Blind Deer. I can wait.”
When she turned her head to glance back at him, he kissed her cheek, and then reaching for one of her hands, he drew her closer to the window. “The moon is so big tonight it reminds me of a Trapper’s Moon.”
Blind Deer squinted up at the sky, and although she would never know the patterns formed by the twinkling bits of light, her shortcoming did not stifle her curiosity for the world around her.
“What exactly is a Trapper’s Moon?” She was glad they pursued a subject other than the history of her love life, or lack thereof. And she enjoyed hearing about anything to do with Saka’am, the moon.
“It comes in February, and it’s a formidable sight—big and bright, like a golden plum, ripe for the picking. A body feels he might reach out and touch it if he could but climb a bit higher up into the heavens. So bright does it shine, if the rivers are thawed, a trapper can walk his lines all night long using the light it gives off to show him the way.”
Blind Deer watched Kade’s face as he spoke. His strong profile and earnest expression revealed his great love for the land and the wilderness. A handsome and noble face, one she fancied she would have been content to grow old beside.
“Maybe we’ll see the next Trapper’s Moon together. Who knows?” He gave her hips a playful sideways bump with his. “Heck, we’ll see many a Trapper’s Moon, and the first snow in winter, and the wonder of the Northern lights.”
Her heart ached a little more. Kade possessed such optimism, still believing they would somehow be together—somehow she would stay with him and Tucket. But right now, happiness was no longer an emotion upon which she could base her life. She must make him understand.
“I cannot be in your future, Kade. Your path is freedom, mine is responsibility.”
“What are you talking about? Did I do or say something to hurt you?”
“No, you do everything right. Too right. Still, I cannot turn my back on my people.”
“Is it because of the young man you once knew, before they sent you to St. Louis? You called him your betrothed. Did he let you down? Take another to his bed while you were gone.”
“It is true we were to be married one day, when we were older.” She smiled, recalling the day they were promised to one another as children. They had laughed, too young to be serious about the ceremony. “Nikota told me he grew to be a strong brave, but he was also one of those who died. I no longer have an obligation to him, only to the others. Besides, everyone I care about dies. I won’t let that happen to you.”
“So, I don’t get any say in the matter? And not everyone you care about has died, not your brothers.”
“It is not my fate.” What more could she say to convince him?
“It could be. I’m declaring my love for you, and I have mountain man luck enough for the both of us. Surviving the cave-in proves my words. We don’t need fate smiling down on us.”
“Fate has never smiled on me, Kade. It has laughed cruelly on many occasions, but it never smiles.” Her voice sounded bitter even to her own ears.
****
The next morning, Kade awakened first. Remaining silent, he watched Blind Deer as she lay peacefully in the innocence of sleep. The closeness they had shared last night had been more than he’d expected, but far less then he’d desired. At least she hadn’t come apart at the seams when he impulsively declared his love for her—she hadn’t said it back either—just she couldn’t be part of his future. Meaning what? Sometimes a man or woman had to carve out their own future, even if it meant going against nature, or fate, or a mountain standing in the way.
Easing out from under the warm cocoon of blankets—and her nearness—he braved the chill morning air, quickly pulling on his clothes. Then he revived the fire and fed chunks of wood to the hearth. She had repaired his buckskins and fashioned new moccasins for him from the leather kept in the trunk for such needs. She must feel something for him to perform such a personal almost intimate kindness.
One way or another, they had to work this out. He wasn’t about to let the best thing in his life slip away without a fight. He’d probably pushed too hard, should have taken things more slowly. But lucky or not, who knew how much time a body had left on this earth.
Besides, he downright loved Blind Deer. The first time he laid eyes on her lying there so small and helpless, then defiant and brave, he knew she was special.
He’d never felt such an overwhelming need to safeguard and care for anything or anybody, other than Maggie of course. Which reminded him, she was still keeping her distance, and the situation weighed heavy on his heart. They had left her food, and from the cabin he’d seen her come and take it, but then she ran back off into the woods. Up until now, he’d been too stove-in to follow after.
Pondering a wagonload of thoughts and unanswered questions, Kade heated water for washing and making tea. Blind Deer stirred, and he glanced over his shoulder. Usually, she was up first, groomed and bright-eyed by the time he saw her. Today she created quite another picture with sleepy eyes and tousled hair—long, enticing hair. Wearing a linen nightshirt, she looked about six years old. Gratefully accepting the capote he handed her, she padded barefoot over to the welcoming warmth of the fire.
“Good morning,” Kade greeted. “Thought I’d cook you breakfast for a change before our confab with your brother this morning.”
“Thank you. I did not mean to sleep so late, but then it was a most unusual night.” She smiled up at him, her expression wistful.
“I’m the one should be thanking you—for the new footwear. They fit perfect. Never had a nicer pair.”
“You are welcome. Your old ones smelled so bad, Tucket buried them.”
He gave a chuckle picturing his partner shoveling away. “They saw a lot of miles over the last few years. I’m thinking these will see even more. There’s hot water when you want it. Just let me know.”
She pulled on her own moccasins and ran the porcupine tail hairbrush through her hair before braiding the locks. Then gathering the capote closer, she left the cabin.
Kade began mixing batter to try his hand at making flapjacks. He’d seen Blind Deer do it often enough—how hard could it be?
Moments later, the cabin clouded over with smoke, reeking with the smell of burning oil. Using a towel, Kade waved the dense fog toward the open door. Blind Deer rushed back in to see what was happening.
“Kade, are you all right?”
“Everything is okay,” he reassured between fits of coughing, “but breakfast is a might overdone.” Wrapping his hand in the towel, he grabbed the handle of the hot smoking pan, hurried out the door, and set it on the porch.
“Tea will be enough.” Stifling a laugh, she carefully opened the precious parchment labeled Zodiac extra fine.
He returned, still holding the bedraggled singed towel. “Good choice. Guess I never realized cookin’ could be so dangerous. Tucket and I usually stuck to beans and hardtack.”
He made two cups of the brew and handed one to Blind Deer. “It’ll be shinin’ times when we join up with him at rendezvous. I sure hope he’s faring well. I don’t like he had to go it alone.”
“You know there was no choice.”
“I do.” He appreciated the logic of her words, but the feeling he’d let his partner down wasn’t something he’d experienced before, and not something easily quelled. “Still it’s a worry.”
They sat at the little table, and after a few moments, he had to broach the subject gnawing at his mind like a beaver after the last lodgepole on Earth. “Blind Deer, in the light of day, I want you to look me in the eyes and deny you love me. Or declare there’s no hope you ever could.”
Her face went pale then flushed as if angry. “I refuse to discuss this with you, Kade. I told you we cannot be together.”
“I know what you told me. I also remember the way you felt in my arms when we kissed, and even now, the look in your eyes belies your words. If you can’t stay with me, then I’ll go with you.”
Lips pressed together in a firm line, she remained mute. He put down his tea, and leaning forward across the little table, kissed her. Her lips softened, but she did not kiss him back. He had to make her understand, had to convince her to trust in him, and believe in a happy future even though so many bad things had happened in her past.
She struggled to her feet. Her breath came in quick little gasps, as if resulting from the kiss and his nearness. “If we are leaving tomorrow, there is much to do.” Still wearing the capote over her nightshirt, she picked up her buckskin dress and leggings and held them to her chest. “You should go check the frying pan. It was very hot and may have caught the porch on fire.”
Her request seemed groundless, but he took the hint and left. Standing outside, he nudged the pan with the toe of his moccasin revealing a scorched place on the floorboards. Ironically it was kinda shaped like a heart. A memento to mark the love burning in his heart for Blind Deer? Or an omen because his heart was doomed to burn in unending pain.
When he thought he’d waited long enough he stepped back inside the cabin. Blind Deer opened her painted parfleche bags and began filling them with her few possessions. Jumping up, he followed her around the cabin, trying to slow her down, trying to make her talk to him. Every time she put an item in a pouch, he pulled it back out—until in frustration she turned on him in anger.
“Oh, just leave me alone.”
This wasn’t going at all as he’d planned. In desperation, he tried one more approach. “I changed my mind. We can’t leave yet. Maggie is still hiding out in the woods. Today is the first time I feel strong enough to go looking for her.”
As soon as the words were uttered he regretted them. Her face crumpled, anguish showing in her eyes. She stormed from the cabin, leaving the door wide open. After a few steps she turned and faced him full on. “What a cruel thing to bring up, McCauley. You know I did not mean to scare dog away.”
Regret riding high, he watched as she stumbled over the rocky terrain in the direction of her brother’s camp. He opened his mouth to say something to stop her, but he had no idea what words to use. This couldn’t be happening. Last night, although amorously stifled, he was the happiest man in the world. And this morning he was sorrier than a bear cub lost in a spring storm.
Blind Deer headed for the wet muddy ground beneath the large trees. The slick soles on her moccasins gave no footing, and she fell on her backside, arms and legs a flailing.
Kade ran out to help. With each effort to get back up, she slid down again, splashing mud around all the more. When she saw him coming, the expression on her face stopped him in his tracks. “I do not need your help.”
****
How dare Kade throw up Maggie’s absence in her face? She was heartbroken the animal still feared to come home.
Finally gaining purchase, Blind Deer struggled to her feet. The mud slid down the front of her dress and dripped off the fringes. Her leggings and moccasins were thick with the wet earth, and making an abrupt change in direction, she headed for the stream.
Her life kept changing direction too, just as swiftly and frequently.
When she’d been with Sir Reginald and saw the scorched earth and thought her tribe completely wiped out, all hope of going back to the old ways had been eliminated. Yet amidst the keen heartache, there had come the happy possibility of staying with Kade.
Now Nikota came saying some had survived, forcing her to choose between her past and her future. Her heart screamed in pain for what was—and for what could never be. It wasn’t Kade’s fault for the way he felt, or for what had befallen her people. Or for the fact that none of the alternatives had hope of success. She wanted to run to him and take her place at his side, now and forever. Her feelings for him were powerful, like nothing she’d felt before. But if she didn’t try to help her brethren, she couldn’t live with herself. And if she couldn’t live with herself, she couldn’t live with Kade.
Shoving a branch out of her way, she hurried along the path to the water.
As far as McCauley traveling with her, what if her people refused to accept him? He would always be living in peril. The image wouldn’t form in her mind. It would never work.
Almost at the river, she grabbed at handfuls of tall grass, folding the reedy stems into a pad. Without stopping, she waded into the water, gasping as the rushing water soaked through the leather covering her feet and legs. When the majority of the mud was loosened and washed away, she stepped out and sat on a rock, using the stiff little bundle of grass to scrub away what remained.
Her buckskins would turn stiff and need working—she should wear them until they dried, an unappealing prospect. Squatting down by the water she washed her face, neck, and arms, welcoming the coldness as it too brought back memories. Her people frequently bathed in cold streams, yet ignorant and not caring about her customs, the missionaries had forced her to bathe in cold water as a punishment. It only made her stronger. Here was another example of her two worlds colliding.
Hearing a sound, she squinted and glanced around. Did someone approach? Had Kade followed her after all? She did not wish to see him. She needed time alone, and to talk again with her brother.
“Kade McCauley,” she called, “turn around now, and go back to the cabin.”
A bone chilling growl answered her request.
In her haste to get away from Kade, and to clean up, she’d forgotten to approach the stream with caution. A small black bear stood downstream in the middle of the water. Nose in the air, he sniffed in her direction. Although she couldn’t see him clearly, judging from the size of the big dark blur, he wasn’t fully grown—but big enough to kill her.
She drew her Green River Blade, eased out of the water, and back-stepped the way she’d come. The bear charged up stream, sending sheets of water rooster-tailing out in every direction. Closer now, she could see every detail, and the sight near made her heart stop beating. Turning to seek a means of escape, an unseen rock took her down—face first. She was done for. Raising her head, she caught a glimpse of light-colored fur flashing by from out of the woods. Maggie…
With a blood chilling howl, the dog charged forward, and both animals crashed into one another. Taken by surprise the bear stumbled and slid to a halt. Maggie bit at the huge creature’s nose and eyes. The bear swiped a giant paw sideways, catching dog’s ear. Brave Maggie stood her ground. Head down, circling as if for the kill, she gave another coyote yowl, and the bear hesitated, but not for long. Blind Deer scrambled to her feet. Knife in one hand a tree branch in the other, she took her place beside Maggie.
Young and inexperienced, the bear seemed confounded by the two-pronged attack. Still mad at Kade, and basically the entire world, Blind Deer gave a war cry of her own, a savage sound, years in the making. The critter turned and ran—Maggie biting at his heels.
“Maggie, dear Maggie. You saved me.” Comrades born of war, she called dog by name.
Maggie came unafraid to her side. Blind Deer knelt, threw her arms around the big dog’s neck, and buried her face in the familiar fur. Then she examined the dog for wounds. One ear was torn and bleeding, but otherwise she seemed unharmed.
Coyote/dog whined and came to attention. Something or someone was coming, but not the bear. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but knew by his outline and way he walked, it was Kade. Maggie ran toward him tail wagging, tongue lolling.
Blind Deer hurried to catch up.
“I heard Maggie howling, as well as a downright frightful scream. Are you both all right?” He bent to examine the dog’s ear. “What happened, old girl? That’s gonna leave a scar.” He stroked her head a few times then straightened. “Blind Deer, what happened to your face?” His fingers shook as he reached out to touch her cheek.
She explained about the bear and about falling down for the second time this morning. “Maggie saved me, Kade. I think she has forgiven me.”
Planted firmly between the two of them, Maggie sat guard at their feet, tail thumping as she gazed up at them.
“I think she knows how much you mean to me.” His eyes still held a troubled expression.
“I know too, Kade.”
****
While Blind Deer washed and treated Maggie’s ear, Kade drank a cup of the special strengthening tea she brewed for him. He was proud of Maggie for saving Blind Deer, and the new closeness between the two of them came as a relief. Maybe it didn’t change things between him and Blind Deer, but it was one less heartache to deal with.
When Maggie was patched up, they headed out. Kade took a few deep breaths. This morning’s foray having left him a little lightheaded—he wasn’t as strong as he thought. But he wasn’t about to show any weakness in front of Blind Deer’s brother.
“What’s this brother’s name again?”
“This one’s name is Nikota.”
“And you have two more.”
“Yes. Somewhere out there. They are Kintama and Kinnapa. They are the twins, born in a rain storm. Their names mean thunder and lightning. They are true children of the Great Coyote, as they excel at playing tricks. They could always make me laugh. But they are also kind and good at heart.”
What would it be like meeting those two? Fond of pranks, and he wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. Sounded like a recipe for trouble. “What does Nikota mean?”
“His name means, Refuses-to-Wait. And lucky for my mother he came early to be born, because even as an infant he was large.”
Hard to image the huge downright scary man ever being a baby, and Refuses-to-Wait probably still fit his current temperament. Kade walked faster. They were already a might late meeting up with him.
“Hello in camp.” Kade gave the usual greeting when approaching another man’s site—a good idea to prevent someone throwin’ fire or loosing arrows in your direction.
With packs of hides stacked to one side, Nikota sat by the fire, the sun glinting off the war plunder HBC gorget hanging around his neck. Apparently, he’d slept out in the open.
As they drew closer, Blind Deer’s brother growled and leapt to his feet, his heated gaze focused upon her face, one hand on the bone hilt of his knife.
“Friend,” Kade commanded Maggie, who appeared ready to pounce.
Blind Deer placed a restraining hand on her brother’s arm. “It is from a run in with a small bear. Kade would never hurt me.”
Nikota relaxed his stance. Kade felt a spark of happiness knowing Blind Deer understood he would never mean to cause her pain.
“And this is Maggie,” Kade added. “She helped chase off old Ephraim.”
The expression on Nikota’s face went from surprise to stone cold. “She looks like Coyote’s sister.”
“She does.” Blind Deer nodded in agreement. “And owing to her name, I hope you will treat her with respect. Have you any food?” Blind Deer glanced around, and Kade felt sorry again about burning breakfast.
“Does the white man not provide for you?” Nikota’s manner and speech held both ridicule and protectiveness.
“Of course. But were we not taught to offer repast to guests?”
With a harrumph, Nikota turned and rummaged around in a parfleche. It was amusing to see the big man giving-in to Blind Deer’s reprimand regarding good manners. He offered her a small bag of dried berries. “There is meat in the pot.” He nodded toward the kettle hanging over the fire, a stew simmering inside.
As if Blind Deer realized admitting hunger would show weakness on his part, she handed Kade a few berries without his asking. They were sweet, and they were good, and he tried not to wolf them down.
Brother and sister took their place around the fire, and Kade followed their lead.
“My sister and I leave tomorrow. You up to traveling?”
Kade bristled but held back a smart-mouth reply. Maybe he looked worse than he thought, or maybe he just looked as bad as he felt. But he’d survived in the mountains for ten years, and every year out here seemed to count for two in harshness and loneliness. He was good to go.
“More than ready—thanks to Blind Deer. She’s been a big help to me ever since we partnered up.”
If a staring contest counted as warfare, the battle was on. Nikota had multiple reasons for hating white men, especially one with designs on his sister. Kade figured he would have felt the same way. And to be truthful, deep down, he wasn’t without a modicum of resentment for what had happened to his parents. But he tried not to dwell on that part of his past. And living out here, judging a man by his character and his actions until proven otherwise generally worked out best for everybody.
Blind Deer took charge of the situation. Around her brother, her personality seemed more confident and decisive. He was beginning to realize she was a woman with strong opinions, and deep feelings to back them up. He hoped in time some of those feelings would be for him.
“There is more to the story of what happened to our band, Nikota. I need you to tell me the truth.” Blind Deer casually chewed on a piece of meat she’d fished out of the pot with a stick, but with back stiff and shoulders squared Kade knew she braced for the news to come.
Nikota studied her for a moment then nodded. “Last year, the HBC came to our village to trade for beaver hides, but the blankets they gave us contained disease. We were struck down, worse than any attack from man or beast. The twins survived because they were over the mountains when the provisions were brought to camp.” Nikota’s voice sounded fueled by hate.
“The English who brought the goods died too, cursing their Captain because he must have known death rode in their packs. It was the same Captain Sulgrave who searches for you now. Helpless to protect them, I watched my friends and our father die.”
Blind Deer’s chin quivered, but she stayed strong. “So, to kill the disease you burned the village—and the bodies of those who perished.”
“Yes.”
“It broke my heart to see our childhood in ashes, bones scattered at random peeking up through the charred memories.” One lone tear now cut a path down her cheek.
“I am sorry, my sister. I am glad you were not there to see them die. A nightmare could not have been more horrible. From the youngest to the oldest, there was much suffering. We could not tend the animals, so we set them loose to fend for themselves. Being white, our mother and her longtime friend seemed to fare better for a while as they tended the sick. They saved some, including me, but not themselves.”
“What happened to Kinnapa and Kintama? Where are they now?”
“The two had gone over the divide, to the far side of the mountains. They were looking to trade with our brothers the Kootenai—buffalo for salted salmon. They were gone a long time, and when they came back it was too late for them to even say goodbye or to partake in the death ceremonies. Now they lead those few who are left out of the valley, back to the other side where they will live with another Salishan tribe. They will need provisions for the winter. I have hides to trade.”
“That is why you’re heading for the Siskeedee?” Kade asked.
“Yes. One of the reasons.”
“What makes you so sure Sulgrave knew the blankets were deadly?”
“His men discovered they’d only been issued supplies enough for a one-way trip. Their Captain never wanted our trade goods, only the death of my people because we would not let them trap on our land.”
Kade figured Nikota’s second reason for heading south would be to get revenge on Captain Sulgrave.