Bound by Honor Bound by Love (22 page)

Onawa giggled. “I did see them
climbing all over her the other day when she was trying to
cook.”

“
Poor Julia. Not only are
they twins, but they’re also boys and boys play rougher than girls.
But I think she and Chogan will be happy out there.”

“
I think so, too, and it’s
nice we’ll see them again.”

When the basket was full, they headed
for the wagon where others were placing supplies Penelope and Cole
would need for their trip. Etu and Yepa’s aunts added clothes and
blankets with the bowls, plates and other baskets of food people
had given them.

It took Onawa a few seconds to find a
space to put her basket. She placed the lid on the basket before
she went to the side of the wagon where Woape was hugging Penelope.
A few feet away, Citlali and Gary talked with Cole whose
countenance had brightened considerably since he learned he could
leave the tribe with his family. The children also looked happier
as they hugged Cole’s legs.

“
Thank you for everything
you’ve done for us,” Penelope told Woape, wiping tears from her
face with a handkerchief.

“
I’m just glad Citlali
talked sense into the people,” Woape replied, also crying. “And
maybe if we see each other again, it’ll be a more pleasant
experience.”

Penelope nodded and turned to Onawa.
“You have a good husband.”

Onawa smiled. “Yes, I do.” She caught
sight of Amata who stood nearby but didn’t interfere with their
conversation. Excusing herself, she walked over to her, weaving
through a couple of people as she did so. She stood in front of her
friend and offered a tentative smile. “Are you mad at
me?”

“
No,” she replied. “I
figured you needed time to think of what you wanted to do about my
brother and when you did, you’d tell me your decision.”

Onawa led her further from the group
of people so the two could have some privacy. “I almost divorced
him.”

“
You left our lodge. I
thought that meant you had, but then Woape told me you hadn’t
decided what to do.”

“
I should have told you,
but…”

Amata hugged her. “You don’t have to
explain. I’m Citlali’s sister. I didn’t want to see you and him
divorce, and I would have probably tried to talk you into staying
with him. Then who knows if you would have stayed because you
wanted to or because you felt a loyalty to me?”

“
I was ashamed,
Amata.”

She pulled away from her and studied
her face. “Ashamed?”

“
I felt so foolish. I ran
out of that lodge without saying a word to anyone, and I didn’t
know how to face you or your other family members after
that.”

“
You weren’t foolish. We
all knew you were hurt when he left without explaining why, and we
didn’t know if or when he’d return. Ukiah thought it was his chance
to court you.”

“
Yes, he made his
intentions clear.”

“
And?” Amata
asked.

“
I’ll never love anyone but
Citlali.” She brushed a stray strand of hair that the wind blew out
of her eyes. “I’m fortunate Citlali really does feel the same way
for me.”

“
So there are no more
doubts?”

“
No. Not
anymore.”

“
Good.”

“
And Citlali and I will
move into the chief’s lodge. In light of how Ukiah feels about me,
I’m relieved. I don’t want to be in the same lodge with
him.”

“
Did you tell
Citlali?”

Onawa nodded. “He said he already knew
by the way Ukiah looked at me.”

“
Citlali’s more perceptive
than most people give him credit for.”

“
Which is a good thing
since he’s now the first chief.”

“
Yes, it is,” Amata said.
“I didn’t realize how much influence he had on this tribe until he
told Cole he could leave and that the white people could stay. I
mean, I knew people admired and respected him, but people really
value his opinion.”

Onawa was also surprised, though she
supposed she shouldn’t be. She’d respected and admired him ever
since she could remember. He’d always seemed larger than life to
her. But having seen the human side of him out on the prairie, she
was finally comfortable around him and she loved him all the more
for it.

“
I’m glad you’re still my
sister-in-law,” Amata said, interrupting her thoughts.

With a smile, Onawa hugged her again.
“I am, too.”

Together, they returned to the wagon
so they could wish Penelope and Cole safe travel as they took their
children home.

***

A year later

Citlali and Hache-Hi were walking
through the tribe when Gary and Achai brought a wagon full of
supplies from town. “I see their venture was a fruitful one,”
Hache-Hi commented as they headed for the wagon.

“
When Gary goes into town,
it usually is, which is why he’s an asset to the tribe,” Citlali
replied. “The guns will help us hunt better.”

Gary pulled the wagon to a stop, and
Achai pulled up a horse alongside him. Behind them, several white
men rode into the tribe.

Citlali glanced at Hache-Hi. “I see
Gary brought Fred, Tim, and Victor.”

“
Is that a good thing?”
Hache-Hi asked.

“
Yes. I promised Mahkah
that I would make sure the ways of our people wouldn’t be
forgotten, and these are the men who’ll make that
happen.”

“
They are?”

Citlali turned to the man who had
become the second chief since Mahkah’s death. “Yes. They said they
will record all of our traditions and put them into a
book.”

“
How much do you plan to
tell them?”

“
Everything. I’ll tell them
the legends of our creation, tell them of our ceremonies, show them
our sacred bundles—”

Hache-Hi gasped. “You’re going to
reveal all of this? But we buy the rights to learn these
things.”

Citlali sighed, knowing not everyone
would agree with his decision but realizing there was no other way
to preserve their heritage. “We won’t live forever. The day will
come when the last full-blooded Mandan will die. Our ways will also
die unless we take measures to preserve them.”

“
And there’s no other way
to do that?”

“
Can you think of
one?”

After a long pause, Hache-Hi sighed
and shook his head. “No, I can’t. There’s no guarantee our children
will pass them on their children, not with the influence of the
white man.”

“
When things are written,
they can last forever. In this way, our traditions won’t be
forgotten.”

With a nod, he consented. “You’re
right. It’s the only recourse we really have.”

Citlali patted him on the shoulder.
“Bring them to the ceremonial lodge. I’ll get the sacred bundles
and turtles ready.”

The two parted ways, and Citlali went
to his lodge where he found Onawa rocking their four-month-old son
in her arms. The two looked content together. She was stroking his
cheek and humming to him, and he was fast asleep. Smiling at the
tender scene, he walked over to her and knelt beside her. He kissed
her cheek and touched the boy’s tiny hand. The boy’s lips turned
up, but he remained asleep.

“
Yuma has your smile,”
Citlali whispered in her ear. “When I see him smile at me, I can’t
help but think of you.”

She grinned. “He looks so much like
you, it’s nice to know a part of me shows up in him.”

Chuckling, he gave her shoulders a
gentle squeeze. “He has your good-natured temperament. When you
look into his eyes, you can tell he sees the good in everything and
is happy about the future. You’re the same way. No matter how dark
things seem, you make them brighter. I don’t know what I’d do
without you.”

“
I love you, too,
Citlali.”

He brought his mouth to hers for a
lingering kiss. With reluctance, he ended the kiss and rose to his
feet. “The white men are here,” he whispered as he hurried to the
travois full of sacred objects of their tribe. “I promised them I’d
share our traditions with them.”

“
I’ll make something for
them to eat and get their beds ready for the night,” she softly
replied.

“
I’m not sure how long
they’ll be here, but I’m sure they’ll want to talk to everyone and
learn as much as they can.” He picked up the ends of the travois
and glanced at her. “I thought it would be easy to tell them
everything, but it’s not.” He blinked back his tears and released a
shaky breath. “I understand why Hache-Hi isn’t happy about
this.”

She shot him a sympathetic look as she
stood up and placed Yuma in his small bed. “It’s not easy to let go
of the past.”

He stared at the items in the travois.
They were just things. He knew it. But they also represented the
many generations of Mandans who lived before him and before his
son. They were passed down through generations and cared for. They
represented what had once been a flourishing and great people. And
now as they continued to dwindle in number, moved away from the
tribe, and more married white people, even life as he knew it would
be a memory. A memory confined in the words of a book.

He set down the travois and hurried
over to Onawa so he could pull her into his arms. She wrapped her
arms around his neck and held him tightly to her. He felt her body
shake and knew she was crying. He buried his face in the nape of
her neck and also cried, taking comfort in knowing she shared his
heartache. They remained in each other’s arms for a few minutes. In
the quiet that passed between them, he calmed, and when he was able
to steady his emotions, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed
her.

When the kiss ended, he pressed his
forehead to hers and took a deep breath. “Life might be always
changing, but my love for you will always be a constant you can
depend on.”

He kissed her again before he returned
to the travois and led it out of the lodge. As he headed for the
ceremonial lodge, his emotions settled and he renewed his
determination to do this. He hardly noticed the people as they
walked by. When they greeted him, he nodded but kept his gaze
focused on the lodge ahead of him.

He reached it and pulled the travois
through the entrance. He scanned the lodge, thinking of the
ceremonies that had once taken place here, but already those were
less and less as each year passed.

“
Thank you for meeting with
us, chief,” Fred called out from beside Gary and
Hache-Hi.

Citlali directed his attention to him
and set the travois by the rug he planned to lay out the items to
show them. He walked over to Fred and greeted him as the white men
often did, with a handshake. “You will write everything down?” he
asked.

“
Yes.” Fred motioned to Tim
who took a stack of papers and several pencils from his satchel.
“We want to make sure we get everything right, so we’ll ask that
you read through it when we’re done.”

“
Gary will do that,”
Citlali said. “I don’t read your language. I just speak
it.”

“
That’s fine,” Fred
replied.

Citlali gestured for everyone to sit
around the fire then sat between Hache-Hi and Gary. He picked up
the pipe Hache-Hi carefully laid out for him and lit it. Every time
he smoked from Mahkah’s pipe, he felt as if his friend and chief
was with him. And on this occasion when he thought of him, a peace
settled over him. It wasn’t the way Mahkah would have wanted it,
but he thought Mahkah would have understood why he was doing
it.

He smoked from the pipe and handed it
to Hache-Hi. Turning his attention to Fred, Tim and Victor, he
began, “We teach that the world is divided into three layers: the
one above us, the one we’re on, and the one beneath us…”

And so, he proceeded to tell them
about the ways of his people.

Author’s Note on

the Native American
Romance Series

The 19th and 20th centuries
marked significant changes for the Mandans.  The Smallpox
epidemic in 1837-38 hit them so hard that it’s estimated that only
125 full-blooded Mandans remained.  In the meantime, Christian
missionaries were coming to evangelize and the Mandans (who were a
peaceful group of people) had a lot of dealings with the white man.
 At the turn of the 20th century, some moved into cabins,
leaving the tribe, and more and more Mandans had left behind their
old belief systems in favor of the white man’s.

A lot of changes were going
on, and though I couldn’t effectively portray it all in the Native
American Romance Series, I’ve picked out parts that I believe has
enhanced the stories as they affected the four couples featured
(Woape and Gary, Chogan and Julia, Citlali and Onawa, and — to a
small degree — Cole and Penelope who adopted two orphaned Mandan
children off an orphan train).    With any story, the
focus must always stay with the characters and their points of
view.  The Native American Romance Series is not meant to take
the place of historical research into the era where the Mandans
thrived and eventually dwindled in numbers.