Brave Beginnings (3 page)

Julia nodded and resumed her task, glad she’d
already placed the china down. Utensils were a safer bet at this
stage in the game. She couldn’t break those if she got clumsy. As
she placed the last fork by the plate that was designated for him,
she took a deep breath.

It’s just Ernest. It’s just Ernest.

Her aunt called out a greeting to Ernest, and
Julia knew she had to go join her. Her steps were surprisingly
steady as she made her way forward. She entered the entryway in
time to see her aunt place his coat and hat in the closet by the
door.

“By the feel of it, we’ll have our first
snowfall soon,” Erin commented.

“Yes,” Ernest agreed.

Julia waited in silence and watched them.
Neither one had noticed her standing in the parlor doorway. She
took the brief reprieve to take a deep breath and slowly exhale.
Her muscles relaxed, but only slightly.

They turned and saw her at the same time, so
she said, “Hello, Ernest. How was your day?”

His smile grew wide. “Very well. And
yours?”

“Good. My brother sent a letter. We’ll see
him on Wednesday.”

“Let him know he’s welcome to stop by the
bank and say hello if he has the time. I’d like to see how he
turned out.”

“I doubt you’d recognize him.”

Her aunt chuckled. “That’s the truth of it.
He’s changed. But then, so have you.”

They stood there for a moment, each one
glancing at the other.

After a good thirty seconds, Erin clapped her
hands. “We should eat.”

“Yes,” Julia quickly added. “The roast is
done and will get cold if we linger here for too long.” She turned,
glad for the reprieve from Ernest’s intense stare.

While her aunt made sure Ernest was
comfortable in the dining room, Julia grabbed the salad bowl and
brought it out to the table. The next few minutes were filled with
the activity of setting the food and drinks out. When they were
seated, more pleasantries were exchanged as Ernest complimented
their cooking and they replied with the expected ‘thank you’.

Then the topics ranged from what the people
back in their old town were up to, how his parents were doing, and
how he liked working at the bank. It was mildly entertaining at
best, which was why Julia had a hard time focusing on it. Her aunt,
more of the talker, rambled in her usual fashion and seemed unaware
that, had it not been for her, the entire dinner might have
continued on in an uncomfortable silence.

Since Ernest sat across from her aunt and
Julia sat between them, she was spared any direct eye contact with
him. She still didn’t know what she was supposed to say or how to
act. For the most part, she focused on her food and kept her mouth
full because as long as she did that, she wasn’t expected to jump
into the conversation.

But then the meal was over and they adjourned
to the parlor, so she knew the time to participate in the
discussion had come. She sat in a chair by the window. Her aunt sat
in the other chair, leaving Ernest directly across from Julia on
the small couch.

He offered her a smile, so she returned it
before she glanced at the dark street where a lone rider on a horse
trotted by. “Night’s getting longer,” she stated, aware the
observation was unnecessary.

“Soon it’ll be time to celebrate Christmas,”
her aunt replied. “I do hope Gary brings Woape and Penelope over
for a visit.” She looked at Ernest. “Penelope is their
daughter.”

“So Gary lives with the Indians? What tribe
did you say he married into?” He directed the question to
Julia.

“Mandan.” Julia shifted in her seat.

“Does he enjoy it there?”

She shrugged. “I suppose. He hasn’t left.
Once he became an adult, he was running all over the place trying
to find out where he fit into this world. It looks like he found
it.”

Her aunt let out a contented sigh. “Yes. He’s
settled down, and it’s done him a lot of good. A man needs a good
woman to make a home with.”

“I won’t argue with that statement,” Ernest
said, turning his gaze to Julia.

Heat rose up to Julia’s neck and face. There
seemed to be a silent message for her in his eyes, and she didn’t
know if it pleased her or not. When he directed his gaze back to
her aunt, Julia took a good look at him. From what she could tell,
he was very much the same man she knew in Sykeston. His outward
appearance seemed to be the only thing that changed. She couldn’t
find a single offensive thing about him, and this time she had no
brother to care for. Perhaps there was a second chance possible for
them. She should at least consider it if he brought it up.

After all, did she want to spend the rest of
her life living with her aunt when she could have a husband and
children? When she last saw Chogan, she assumed that her course had
been set, and she’d settled into a peace about being an old maid.
But what if she didn’t have to settle for it? What if childhood
dreams could be resurrected?

She considered the future she would share
with Ernest. It would be a pleasant one, she was sure. He’d be a
kind and considerate husband. She could live very well off his
salary. He was established and would provide their children a good
home. When Ernest glanced back at her, she lowered her eyes. She
knew she was blushing, but she hoped he didn’t notice.

After a good twenty minutes of listening to
her aunt explain the time she and Julia had spent at the Mandan
tribe, the clocked chimed.

“It sounds like you had quite the adventure,”
Ernest told her aunt as he straightened. “I hate to end a wonderful
evening, but I must get up early tomorrow for a meeting.”

“I didn’t realize I rambled for so long,” her
aunt replied with a chuckle. “Well, you know me. Get me started and
I don’t stop.”

“I enjoyed listening to you,” Ernest assured
her. “I might live near the Mandans, but I admit my knowledge of
them is limited.”

“They are a lovely people, aren’t they,
Julia?”

Surprised that she was suddenly the focus of
the conversation, Julia cleared her throat and said, “Yes, they
are.”

Her aunt stood and went to retrieve Ernest’s
hat and coat by the doorway. “I hope you won’t be a stranger.”

He waited for Julia to stand and walked
beside her as she approached her aunt. Being near him felt as
comfortable as she remembered. It’d always been nice to be around
him. So much was the same that she found it hard to believe there
had been any passage of time. The only thing different was that
they were older.

Ernest slipped his coat and hat on and smiled
at them. “I hope to see you again.”

Even as he looked at Erin and Julia, Julia
wondered if he directed the statement to her. “I’m sure we’ll cross
paths again,” Julia replied.

“I look forward to it.” He tipped his hat and
left.

Erin shut the door behind her and gave her a
knowing grin. “That boy never stopped loving you.”

Julia didn’t know how many times in one night
she could feel her face flush, but she was sure this was a new
record. “He was being polite.”

Even as Julia said it, she suspected her aunt
was right. But nothing had to be decided tonight. She had time to
think through her swirling emotions. Giving the matter no more
thought for the night, she joined her aunt in washing the
dishes.

~~********~~

F
or the hundredth
time, Chogan wondered if he was making a mistake. He’d opted to go
into Bismarck to trade the furs even though he wasn’t needed. This
time Citlali wanted guns.

“They’re more efficient than bows and
arrows,” Citlali had said before they left the tribe that Wednesday
morning.

It was on the tip of Chogan’s tongue to ask
why Citlali felt the need to take so much of the white man’s world
when he still insisted that Chogan marry Sarita in order to produce
more full-blooded Mandans. Either they were going to remain
authentic to their heritage or blend fully into the white man’s
world. Citlali seemed to think a compromise would be reached, but
the more Chogan listened to the younger man, the larger the blur
between their world and the white man’s world grew. The gradual
progression pointed to the inevitable. The day would come when the
last full-blooded Mandan would die, and though that day wasn’t
soon, Chogan couldn’t deny the reality of it.

Chogan wrapped the robe of buffalo fur
tighter around himself. He didn’t care to enter the store. Instead,
he stood outside with his friend and watched Gary and Citlali talk
to the owner.

Achai shook his head. “Before we know it,
Citlali will want us to wear the white man’s clothes,” he said in
their native language.

“If he likes this place so much, why doesn’t
he move here?” Chogan muttered.

“If you hate this place so much, why did you
insist on coming?”

He shot his friend a stern look. “I’m not
amused.”

Achai grinned. “You need to go to her. I’m
tired of watching you spend all your days brooding.”

“I haven’t been brooding.”

“No? I can’t remember the last time you
smiled, and God forbid you should laugh.”

“I’m not that bad,” Chogan argued, realizing
that even as he denied it, the way he crossed his arms and glowered
at his friend proved otherwise.

Achai rolled his eyes but didn’t comment.

Citlali and Gary thanked the store owner and
rolled the guns and bullets into the hides. Chogan straightened.
This was it. Next Gary would see his aunt and sister.

“I hope you manage a pleasant attitude with
Julia,” Achai said. “If you give her the same ominous look you’re
giving me, she just might run from you.”

As much as Chogan hated to admit it, his
friend was right. Uncrossing his arms, he shook his limbs to force
the tension from his muscles.

“That’s better,” Achai said.

Citlali and Gary left the store and went over
to Achai and Chogan.

“Now when we hunt buffalo, we’ll do better,”
Citlali announced, obviously proud of their new weapons.

Knowing the question wouldn’t please Citlali,
Chogan directed his gaze to Gary and asked, “Will you go to your
aunt and sister’s now?”

Gary nodded. “I better. If I don’t, they’ll
probably track me down at the tribe.” With a grin, he added, “Now
that Julia knows how to use a bow and arrow, I don’t want to risk
upsetting her.”

Immediately, the memory of the days he and
Julia spent hunting rabbits came to Chogan’s mind, and he felt a
smile tug at his lips. Those had been, perhaps, the best moments
he’d ever shared with another person. As soon as the wave of
pleasure washed over him, the reminder of her refusal to marry him
came crashing down on him. But she hadn’t rejected him. She made
the offer for him to make the move into her world—the white man’s
world—so they could be together.

He hadn’t been ready to leave his tribe.
Glancing at the men who walked by with their hats, suits and coats,
he wondered if he was ready now. Could he ever leave his people,
his heritage, even if it meant he could be with her? He thought her
world had stifled her. Its restraints had pressed her in on all
sides. She had the inner fire that he couldn’t imagine this world
accepted from a woman. She had been honored for shooting a Sioux
with an arrow when the tribe was attacked, but would she receive
such honor here? Or would the men condemn her for her act of
bravery?

Chogan returned his attention to Gary. “I
will go with you.”

Gary nodded.

Achai leaned forward, whispered, “Remember to
smile so you don’t scare her off,” and joined Citlali at the wagon
they would take back to the tribe.

Chogan mounted his steed and waited for Gary
to lead the way through the busy streets of Bismarck. He scanned
the buildings and wondered why these people didn’t feel restricted.
They went about their business, seeming to be content with their
imprisonment. He didn’t know if he could do it—make the switch to
living here. He was used to the open land; there was a sense of
freedom in it. Didn’t Julia miss that?

A young boy darted in front of his horse, so
Chogan pulled back on the reins and waited until the boy was safely
back with his mother on the sidewalk before he directed the steed
to continue. As he passed them, he heard the mother whisper
something about staying away from the savage. Skin bristling,
Chogan’s head snapped in the woman’s direction. Her eyes grew wide
before she clutched her child’s hand and scurried off down the
sidewalk.

“Ignore it,” Gary said.

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re white,”
Chogan bitterly replied.

“I put up with it too. They just call me
different names.”

Chogan couldn’t argue with that statement,
and there was no doubt Gary’s daughter would have a rough time of
it when she grew up if she chose to associate with the white man’s
world. They’d label her a half-breed. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

Gary shrugged. “I figure it’s their problem.
Not mine.”

If only such thinking came as easily to me,
Chogan thought. Why couldn’t the white people be as welcoming as
the tribes in the area were? No. He couldn’t live here. The only
thing he could do was ask Julia to come with him and hope she’d say
yes.

***

Millicent Edwards leaned forward in the
parlor chair and giggled into her handkerchief.

Julia gave a polite smile, wondering what it
was, exactly, that her cousin found so amusing about a rip in her
petticoat.

As if Millicent understood Julia’s confusion,
she said, “I know no one can see my petticoats, but I’d die of
embarrassment if I left the house in such a morbid condition.”

“Did you know that Indian women don’t wear
petticoats?”

Millicent’s eyes grew wide. “I never thought
about it, but they do dress differently from us. Oh, they must feel
naked.”