Chapter Thirteen

“Watch,” signed Pretty Moon, touching her eyes and then pointing with her first and second index finger toward Big Elk. “You will learn how to handle your man.”

Snapping down the index finger of her right hand, Carolyn gave Pretty Moon the sign for agreement. She added a nod for good measure.

It was about time. Big Elk and Lone Arrow had been deep in conversation for what was probably several hours, and although both women were becoming anxious to be alone with their men, neither Big Elk nor Lone Arrow seemed to be inclined to do much more than sit and converse with one another. Curious, Carolyn lent Pretty Moon her undivided attention, for whatever this technique was, Carolyn wanted to ensure she witnessed it all.

Waiting, Carolyn tried to recall how her adoptive mother had managed to gain her husband’s attention. Had the woman even developed a system? Hmmm…if she had, whatever it was had completely escaped young Carolyn’s observation.

And then it began.

Without even seeming to catch his eye, Pretty Moon cast down her lashes and batted them. She repeated the procedure twice.

Had Big Elk seen?

Carolyn wasn’t convinced Big Elk had shown his wife enough interest this evening to catch such a display.

Another few moments passed. Carolyn watched Big Elk closely. Well, what do you know? Something had changed. Big Elk sent his wife several short glances. However, neither he nor Lone Arrow ended their conversation.

Undiscouraged, Pretty Moon shifted position, wiggling slightly and flicking a braid over her shoulder.

Within a matter of seconds, Big Elk stood, his body language indicating he was bringing his conversation with Lone Arrow to a close.

Carolyn’s mouth popped open.

“Watch,” came the sign once again from Pretty Moon.

And Carolyn did exactly that. Truth was, at this moment she could not have taken her glance away from the couple had she tried.

Within a few moments, Pretty Moon raised her arms over her head and stretched, adding a vocal, feminine sigh to the movement. It was an obvious ploy.

Carolyn carefully noted the interplay between the couple, amazed when, within a few minutes, Big Elk had taken the necessary few steps toward his wife and sat down next to her.

Before Pretty Moon gave her entire attention over to her man, she turned to smile at Carolyn. And Carolyn grinned back.

Wow! Pretty Moon’s maneuvers could not have been more effective had the other woman tied a rope around her man’s neck and pulled on it.

And Carolyn really did not need Pretty Moon’s signs, “Now you try it,” to compel her to do the same.

Nonetheless, Carolyn found it difficult to initiate a single flirtatious gesture, so great was her reticence…at least at first. But when Lone Arrow seemed uninclined to acknowledge her presence, despite the fact that he now sat alone, Carolyn quickly overcame her hesitation.

What was the first thing Pretty Moon had done? Oh, yes.

Sitting up straight, Carolyn batted her eyes at Lone Arrow. Twice.

Tentatively, she glanced up at Lone Arrow. Had he noticed?

Carolyn frowned. Perhaps not. In Carolyn’s estimation, the man appeared as immoveable now as he had a few moments ago.

Well, fine. Maybe the action had been too subtle for Lone Arrow. Perhaps she should go on to step two. What was it that Pretty Moon had done next?

Oh, yes. Shifting position, ensuring that she wiggled her hips a little in the process, Carolyn flicked a section of her long hair behind her shoulder.

Casting a quick glance at Lone Arrow, she tried to determine if there had been a change in him at all…anything?

Carolyn’s spirits took a plunge. There he sat, whittling away with his knife over some stick…utterly ignoring her.

All right, fine. She would advance to step three, and if that didn’t work…

Casually, as though she had done this sort of thing as a matter of course, Carolyn stretched her arms over her head and sighed. She even added another wiggle to the gesture for good measure. Then studiously, feeling as though she were perched on pins and needles, she watched Lone Arrow for any sign of a response.

Had it made a difference?…

 

It was still early in the evening and Lone Arrow sat with his friend, Big Elk, before their small campfire. So far the two men had been engrossed in conversation, trying to reach an agreement as to their next course of action.

At present they sat mute. Finally it was Big Elk who spoke first, saying, “My friend, you talk of backtracking, but I fear that we may not return to the white man’s fort for many a moon.”

Lone Arrow nodded, yet queried all the same, “Why do you say this?”

“Your wife,” said Big Elk, pointing toward Carolyn, “appears to be headstrong.”

Lone Arrow shrugged, restraining himself from either agreeing with his friend or from correcting the man’s impression. Certainly, she was headstrong, but she was not his woman. Not yet. And in truth, he should not make her his wife, even though he had said that he would.

He chided himself. What had he done this day? Had he set into motion something he could not take back?

Moodily, he tried to stare straight ahead, though from the corner of his eyes, he couldn’t help but scrutinize her. In the distance, a night hawk squawked and a screech owl hooted above a wind that never seemed to tire of howling. That this same breeze was responsible for whipping strands of Lone Arrow’s long unbraided hair into his eyes was only a mild irritant at present.

Though he gave the impression of speaking with Big Elk, Lone Arrow watched her; watched as she conversed with Pretty Moon, watched as the evening breeze blew a curl of her chestnut hair back from her face.

Without willing it, he suddenly wished to coil his fingers through that silky tress; yearned to feel its velvety texture within his grasp. In truth, he could barely control the urge to spread his fingers over her skin, her face, her cheeks, if only to satisfy himself that her responses this afternoon had not been more than a warrior’s mere dream.

“How did you rescue her from the buffalo herd?” asked Big Elk. “When last I saw you, you were edging your way into the midst of them. I feared, my friend, that I might never see you again.”

Again Lone Arrow shrugged, as though the rescue had been nothing. He said, “I have A-la-pee, a very smart pony.”

“Éeh, yes,” said Big Elk. “But even smart ponies sometimes stumble. Your medicine was with you today, my friend.”

Lone Arrow nodded and had he been alone, he might have cursed, for Big Elk’s words caused Lone Arrow to remember…remember his fear…for her…

He had died a little today, he realized, witnessing the danger to The-girl-who-runs-with-bears. And that moment had changed him. For he could no longer deny his feelings.

He cared for her. Ho! It was that simple.

But there were problems.

“She looks to be a good woman,” commented Big Elk, “and when I look at her, I see that her heart speaks true. Yet…”

Lone Arrow glanced up.

“Yet,” continued Big Elk, “what will you tell your clan mothers when they ask you why you have taken a white woman as your first wife?”

“I have not yet married her,” replied Lone Arrow.

“But you will, my friend. You will.”

Would he? he wondered. What would happen if he did not marry the white woman?

That there would be no commitment from either of them was clear. However, that he would also, perhaps, be only half alive, was a truth that he could not entirely discount.

Fact was, The-girl-who-runs-with-bears did not understand his dilemma. How could he tell her that the cave she sought was sacred to his people? That those things she had seen there were to remain as they were, undisturbed? How could he do this without giving away its secret?

“Your mother’s people and your father’s, too, will want to know why you have chosen this woman instead of a bride from amongst the people,” Big Elk was continuing. “For all my life I have known you as my friend. For all my life I have acknowledged that yours is a sacred way of life, for you alone speak to the mountain god. It is a hard way to live, my friend, because the people expect more from you than from another who does not, perhaps, have your power.”

Lone Arrow remained silent.

“Do not misunderstand,” Big Elk went on to explain. “I do not say you should not marry her. If she were mine, I would do as you are. My only word of caution is that you should commit a few words to memory to explain this thing to your clan.”

Lone Arrow inclined his head. Big Elk’s word was good. However, difficult though it might be, dealing with his clan was not the shattering obstacle that Big Elk believed it to be. The truth was that his people would eventually be happy that Lone Arrow had at last found someone to marry.

Ho! His relatives, his clan, and their reaction to his choice in a wife, although filled with uncertainty, was not the problem that Lone Arrow feared.

No, it was something else that worried him. Something that went deeper than the color of one’s skin.

He did not trust her.

Why should he?

And he found himself wondering why a white woman would commit herself to an Indian husband. True, the two of them had a history together, which in itself was unusual. But in Lone Arrow’s opinion, her easy acquiescence was an oddity.

Perhaps his mistrust was ill-founded. Maybe her heart was sincere, as Big Elk believed it to be. But from Lone Arrow’s experience, he knew he had to be cautious.

After all, no matter the friendship his people had shown to the white man, such people as Nate Stormy and his ilk rarely regarded the Indian as being on the same footing as their white counterparts, in trade or even in treaty.

Why should she be different from the rest?

And yet, she was. Instinct told him this was so.

Lone Arrow frowned as he wondered if his intuition regarding her was clouded by desire.

It could be, he acknowledged, for he could not deny that he coveted her. Indeed, he was only too well aware that he physically ached with the need to be with her, to breathe in her earthy fragrance.

In truth, he craved her body beneath his, longed to watch the stirrings of passion take hold upon her countenance. And the image of her body, moving against his in the time-honored dance of love, as it had briefly done this afternoon, was practically more than he could stand.

Lone Arrow uttered a low, masculine sound, wishing he could curb his thoughts as well as he could master the yearnings of his body. But alas, he seemed to be as incapable of ruling his mind as he might be were he trying to change day to night.

“Will you tell her of your duty?”

Lone Arrow lifted his shoulders. “She will come to know of it soon enough,” he said.

“I have never understood,” Big Elk said, “why you have not yet married one from amongst us. You have many coups, though you are young. You are well respected. The right is there for you to do so.”

As was fitting, Lone Arrow thought for a moment before he replied. At last, he said, “I have known The-girl-who-runs-with-bears since I was sixteen winters old. She had been lost from her people and I found her in Ba-sa-wa-xaa-wúua, Our Mountains, The Big Horn. I led her to her people, and then went home to my own. Perhaps my spirit has been entwined with hers ever since then. Perhaps,” he said, “I have been waiting for her to return.”

Lone Arrow glanced at his friend, catching the fleeting look of surprise in Big Elk’s eyes. And then, as though in afterthought, he said, “Although perhaps not.”

And while Big Elk accepted this, Lone Arrow sighed. Truth was, he faced a major problem. One he had no means of solving.

For thousands of years, the Absarokee, or Crow people, had lived, hunted and subsided on this land. For thousands of years, Lone Arrow’s family had been granted the duty of guarding the treasure cave and all the riches within it.

That cave, the cache there, was not his own, nor anyone else’s, to do with as he pleased. Another people had once lived on this land—a very large people, and a small people, if the skulls of these ancient races were indicative of their size.

But no one touched their things. Not their stone arrowheads, not their gold, nor even their remains. To do so would be to court disaster, or at the very least bad luck.

Perhaps the god who lived in the Bighorn Mountains had once been the long ago peoples’ god. Unfortunately, there was precious little tradition amongst his own tribe that explained the god of the mountains, this old race or the things which they had left behind. No tradition, that is, except as had been passed down through Lone Arrow’s lineage.

In truth, he understood little more than this: the Bighorn Mountains and all within it were the realm of the mountain god. And as Lone Arrow’s father had done, and as his father had done before him, it was Lone Arrow’s duty to protect these mountains and the treasure cave.

That also meant defending them from her.

Yet, how could he do that when The-girl-who-runs-with-bears was so determined?

Once again, the thought occurred to him: if only he could trust her.

But he could not. The best thing to do would be to extricate himself from her and this situation, if only he could think of a way to do so.

Unfortunately, The-girl-who-runs-with-bears had secrets and designs that demanded Lone Arrow’s attention, even if he did not actively help her. And this alone, would bring him into constant contact with her.

Alas, the thought of this brought on the awareness of another dilemma.

However, at this moment, Big Elk rose to his feet and stretched. “It is that part of the day when one should seek his sleeping robes with the one he loves,” he said.

Lone Arrow nodded and waved his friend away, wishing at the same time that he hadn’t been reminded of their individual sleeping arrangements. It made him think of her…in that way…again…

Uttering a low guttural noise in his throat, Lone Arrow glanced up toward The-girl-who-runs-with-bears, sending her what was probably his most irritated look. Little did he anticipate, however, that at that very same moment, she would gaze back at him, catching the expression in his eye. He grimaced. For, as they stared at one another, she batted her lashes at him, twice.

Ho! What was this? His body responded to hers, in a most natural way…natural, that is, if they were husband and wife.

Lone Arrow stirred restlessly. Impossible. How could a single glance from her cause his pulse to race?

Worse, The-girl-who-runs-with-bears flicked her hair over her shoulder and wiggled, casually stretching her arms over her head, the action drawing attention to her breasts. Moreover, she sighed, her voice no more than a feminine whisper.

All at once, his blood pumped furiously.

Was she flirting with him? Openly?

Big Elk unexpectedly laughed, interrupting Lone Arrow’s train of thought. It also caused him to switch his attention toward the other couple. Big Elk had placed his robe around Pretty Moon’s shoulders, the effect blanketing the two lovers completely. Such was an Indian’s way of pronouncing to others that he wished privacy.

Soon Lone Arrow knew that these two would seek a more secluded place, leaving him alone with her.

What was he to do then?

Logic and an unswerving sense of duty urged him to wait, to put her at a distance. After all, as the old ones had often counseled, one must think before one acts.

Ho! That was it. He needed some time alone, to reflect upon his choices. Especially at a time when it appeared he had only two paths before him, both of them laden with problems.

Ho! Glancing above him at the star-studded heavens, Lone Arrow made a decision.

Thus resolved, he rose, and without so much as a single glance at The-girl-who-runs-with-bears, he strode out into the night.

 

So much for Pretty Moon’s lesson.

Carolyn watched Lone Arrow leave. As he disappeared, a flood of contrary emotions filled her. She wanted him to stay with her, pay attention to her, yet at the same time, she knew that something bothered Lone Arrow; she could sense it.

But what was it? And what could she do about it? That is, if she wanted to do something about it.

A series of giggles drifted to her from across the fire. Oh, dear. Pretty Moon’s husband had thrown a blanket over the two of them. Was this an attempt at privacy?

Carolyn debated what she should do. But then, with little to no warning, the two figures moved beneath that blanket, until it looked as though Big Elk had positioned Pretty Moon on the ground.

Dear Lord, was the couple going to make love right here, right now?

Embarrassment consumed Carolyn. She could not stay here.

There was nothing for it. She would have to follow Lone Arrow, no matter that he seemed moody and uncommunicative; no matter that he had ignored her rather obvious invitation.

But it was dark, much too dark away from the fire. It had been a long time since Carolyn had been required to face the dark wilderness on her own. At the thought, a shiver of fear washed through her.

There would be animals out there—perhaps snakes.

At that thought, a feeling of revulsion swept over her. Carolyn had always hated snakes.

What if she were to stumble over a rattlesnake?

More giggles issued from the couple beneath the blanket, and with them came the sound of clothing being removed.

That, more than anything else, decided her.

Coming to her feet, Carolyn left the camp, heading out in the general direction where Lone Arrow had gone.

Perhaps, despite the darkness, she might meet up with him. She could only hope, for her own sake, that it would be so.