Providence (36 page)

 Howling winds died with the
coming dawn, stilling the turbulent lake. The rising sun broke through the gray
clouds, sending shafts of radiant light to illuminate the peaceful waters. The
ensuing silence was broken by the soft rustle of a woman’s skirt as the cabin
door opened. Tochoway and Luke turned expectantly, and the dark-haired woman
stood aside as she motioned for them to enter.

The cabin was warmed by the
glowing stove where a kettle simmered, wafting a soothing herbal fragrance into
the air. Tochoway strode across the room to gaze upon the woman laying still
upon the bed.

“Weakeah?” he asked.

“She sleeps now. Perhaps she will
live,” Weakeah answered in softly accented English as she busied herself at the
table folding cloths and sorting herbs into her deerskin pouch.

Luke approached the bedside.
Kate’s pale face was clean, all traces of blood wiped away. The wound on her
temple had been skillfully cleaned and covered with a light bandage. She was
covered by a colorful wool blanket that rose and fell with her steady
breathing. Her clothing lay in a pile at the foot of the bed, dried blood
crusting the jacket and blouse.

Finished with her tasks at the
table, Weakeah walked over to retrieve the clothes, and disappeared through the
cabin door.

“Weakeah will clean and mend them
if she can,” Tochoway said.

 Luke nodded, numb not only
from the shock and cold, but from Tochoway’s revelations as well. Would he ever
be the man Tochoway was? Did he even deserve a woman like Kate? She had said
she loved him, would marry him. Was it really only yesterday they had watched
the sun rise over Providence together and the future had held such bright
promise?

Kate moaned softly from the bed.
She became restless, trying to throw the covers back. Tochoway reached out a
hand to stroke her hair, calm her, then glancing at Luke, he stepped back with
an indication that the rightful place did not belong to him.

Luke knelt beside the bed
reaching for her hand as it flashed from beneath the blanket. “Kate, hush now,
you need to rest. I’m here. You’re going to be all right now,” he comforted
her. As he spoke, she grew still, her eyes flew open, searching, wary,
unfocussed. Kate’s head turned from side to side as she fought toward consciousness.
Closing her eyes with a deep sigh, she sank back upon the bed into a fitful
sleep.

Luke stroked her hand and arm now
laying atop the blanket. Puzzled as his fingers felt the unfamiliar scarring he
glanced down at the bare skin of her forearm. Normally hidden beneath the long
sleeves she always wore, the livid scars ran from a few inches behind her wrist
to just before her elbow. Luke stared at them intently, wondering where they
had come from, and why she never mentioned them. Did she think he would be
repulsed by them?

“Puha,” Tochoway said in a low
voice.

“What?”

 “Puha,” Tochoway repeated.
“I cannot find a way to say it in your tongue. It is a Nuumu concept for great
personal honor, bravery and healing power.”

Luke nodded, still looking at the
scars. “But, how...”

Tochoway shook his head. “She has
suffered much,” he continued, his voice deep with emotion. “Yet she is strong,
brave, ready to face any challenge life may have for her. Through faith, she
has found peace, and an inborn willingness to serve others. Now she deserves
happiness.”

Luke turned to face Tochoway. In
his eyes, Luke could see the love this man felt for Kate. In that instant, Luke
resolved to honor the sacrifice and all it meant.

***

Cold, she was so cold. Why wouldn’t
the cold go away? The swirling darkness came again enveloping her brain in a
foggy haze. She had to
-
had to
-
what? There was something very important she had to
do, why couldn’t she focus? The pain, that was it! If the pain would just go
away, she could think. A voice! Luke! Yes, it was Luke. What was he saying?
Praying? Why? They had to find Jo and tell her the news. Jo would be so happy.
Kate tried to rise, but the pain came again. Darkness.

 She moaned softly as she
realized the cold was no longer so intense. She was moving, cradled against
someone warm. She felt safe, so safe now. The scent of leather and male sweat
filled her nostrils as she tried to breathe deeply, but the pain struck again
as her lungs filled with air. Black hair brushed her face as her savior bent
his head to quiet her. Tochoway? Where was Luke? She knew she had heard him,
where had Luke gone? Struggling to see and understand, the pain overwhelmed her
and the dark haze claimed her senses again.

She fought through the black void
as though it were a tangible foe. Luke was stroking her head, she felt him,
heard him, she was sure it was Luke. If only she could tell him she loved him.
Willing her eyes to open she saw blurs of light, but the pain was too intense.
Her eyes closed. Trying to speak, the only sound that escaped was a gasp of
pain.

“Shhh, Kate, lie still. You’re
going to be all right.” Luke’s voice penetrated through the haze of pain
clouding her brain. Claiming the words as a promise, Kate lay back, giving
herself over to the darkness, no longer trying to fight it.

Kate coughed as the bitter herbal
drink trickled down her throat. A firm hand held her head up while another
poured the warm concoction into her mouth. Forcing her eyes open, Kate could
see the soft, dark features of an Indian woman. Her liquid brown eyes held
tender compassion. Kate nodded, finished drinking the tea and slipped again
into a restful sleep.

The heat was suffocating her. Too
hot
-
fire, get away from the fire.
Kate fought to throw off the confining weight of the covers. Why couldn’t she
move? Why was it so hot? Groping with her hand, she tried to get away. Voices,
Luke?

 “Kate, hush now, you need
to rest. I’m here. You’re going to be all right now.” Once again his voice had
the power to still her restless mind. She wanted to see him, to know that he
was here. Willing her eyes to open, she searched for his familiar face. There
is was, she wanted to reach out, to feel his firm jaw beneath her fingers, but
she was too weak. A movement behind Luke caught her eye. Dark haunted eyes in a
sun-bronzed face appeared from the shadows. Her heart beat faster as she saw
the longing in Tochoway’s face, a yearning for something that could never be.
Closing her eyes, she sank into the pillow and surrendered to a fitful sleep.

Kate’s slumber was filled with
dreams of voices, white horses disappearing in a silver mist, the agonized wail
of a hawk who’s breast is pierced by an arrow shot from a bow she found in her
own hand. During brief bouts of wakefulness, the Comanche woman tended to her
needs, fed her strong broths and herbal teas. At times she was aware that
Tochoway sat beside her. Other times she would awake to find herself utterly
alone.

Gradually, she became aware that
she was in Tochoway’s cabin. Her faithful companion was named Weakeah, and she
now knew that she was gaining strength rapidly.

“Tochoway?” Kate said.

“You are awake.”

“Yes,” she answered. “How long
have I been here?”

“Three days.” Tochoway said.

 “Luke was here.”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Where is he?”

“He returned home, to let your
family know you are safe.”

“Oh,” Kate said, struggling to
sit upright.

The door opened and Weakeah
entered carrying wood for the stove. Kate smiled at her, wanting to get to know
this quiet women better.

“You are Weakeah, aren’t you?”
Kate asked. “Thank you for seeing me through this.”

“You heal well,” Weakeah
answered.

“Only from all your good
medicine.” Kate smiled. “Can you tell me what some of those herbs are?”

Weakeah smiled as she stacked the
wood. Retrieving her deerskin bag she carried it over to sit beside the white
woman and show her the secrets it contained. The women sat together with their
heads bowed over the treasures displayed from the bag as Tochoway returned to
the leather he was working.

***

The morning dawned with a promise
of warmth. Kate sat in the bed gazing out the small window watching for Weakeah
to appear. She drummed her fingers against the woolen blanket impatiently,
knowing that the day had finally arrived when Tochoway would take her home to
Providence. She was still weak, but Weakeah and Kate both knew that Kate’s
heart was with her child and her family. Her strength would grow more rapidly
there, surrounded by those she loved. Her wounds were healing well, and she had
managed to eat several small meals over the last two days. It was time to go
home.

The door opened, Kate turned in
surprise. Tochoway entered carrying a small bundle.

“Is Weakeah not coming?” Kate
asked.

“She will come,” Tochoway
answered, setting the package on the table. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really, but I suppose I
should eat something.” Kate smiled.

Tochoway nodded, turning to the
stove and dishing up two small bowls of the venison stew Weakeah had made the
evening before. Handing a bowl to Kate, he retrieved two spoons from the
cabinet and sat at the table facing Kate. As Tochoway asked the blessing on
their small breakfast, Kate added her silent thanks for the care and comfort
she had received from these wonderful people.

As she was finishing the stew,
Weakeah came in. Tochoway spoke to her in their native tongue, then left the
room abruptly. Weakeah shook her head, and began cleaning up the dishes. “Your
clothes are clean. The blouse could not be well mended, but there is another
shirt there for you to wear over it if you like,” Weakeah said, indicating the
bundle Tochoway had placed on the table.

 Kate walked to the table
holding the blanket around her as she had for the last two days when Weakeah
would let her stand and move about. Taking the clothes, she unfolded her riding
skirt and drawers, both clean and fresh. Her jacket was next, washed but still
bearing the telltale rust colored stains of blood. The white shirt had been
washed and mended, but had been so shredded by her ordeal that even with
Weakeah’s careful attention, it was little better than a rag.

At the bottom of the pile lay a
pale, creamy leather blouse. Kate’s fingers ran over the deerskin, marveling at
the soft texture. Holding the shirt up, Kate’s breath caught in her throat. The
front of the butter-soft leather blouse was intricately beaded with brilliant
blue beads and ivory quills in the shape of a jay’s feather. The work was
skillfully crafted, and matching fine leather fringe draped from the shoulders
and sleeves.

“Weakeah, this is so beautiful.
Did you make it?” Kate asked.

Weakeah shook her head.
“Tochoway.”

As though summoned, Tochoway
entered the cabin. “I’m sorry. I thought you would be ready. I will be just
outside, waiting for you,” he said as he disappeared again.

“I can’t accept this, Weakeah,
he’s already done so much for me,” Kate said.

 “You must, it is our way,”
Weakeah said, taking the blanket and holding Kate’s underwear out to her.

Kate dressed quickly, putting her
own tattered muslin shirt on before taking the beautiful leather blouse and
slipping it over her head. The soft leather fell in graceful folds over her
body, the blue beads glittering in the morning rays. Weakeah brushed Kate’s
hair and tied it back with a matching leather thong, fixing two perfect blue
feathers at her temple.

“I will miss you, Weakeah.”

“Do not be sad. You will always
carry a part of me in your heart, as I will carry your memory with me.”

Kate hugged Weakeah, and hurried
from the room.

Tochoway stood outside holding the
reins of a sorrel and white pony. His face softened at the sight of her. Kate
smiled, lifting her arms so he could see the beautiful shirt, the fringe
blowing gently in the morning breeze. She walked over to where he stood holding
the horse.

“I don’t know how to thank you,”
she said.

“It is my wedding gift to you.”

Kate’s eyes filled with tears at
the plaintive sound in his voice.

“Come, it is a long ride,” he
said gruffly.

 Tochoway lifted Kate onto the
pony, who wore only a blanket. Kate had never ridden a horse bareback before
and the feeling was a bit insecure at first. Mounting skillfully behind her,
Tochoway reached around, holding her securely as he took the reins and urged
the pony toward the north.

They traveled at an easy walk
through country unfamiliar to Kate for over an hour. Tochoway’s arms holding
her securely, the warm sunshine upon her face, and the gentle swaying of the
pony combined to work their lulling charms on her tired body and she dozed
intermittently.

Starting awake, Kate’s heart
leapt within her as she recognized the road they traveled. Tilting her head
back and to the side, she smiled into Tochoway’s eyes. He dropped his gaze to
her, his eyes smiling softly. Here and there among the green leaves Kate saw
flashes of red, amber and yellow as the leaves responded to the shortening days
and the cooling temperatures. Squirrels chattered and dashed from branch to
branch, busily storing away their bountiful harvest of pecans and acorns. A
distant honking alerted to her to vast flocks of geese winging their way toward
southern climes. She could feel Tochoway look to the skies as the trailing vees
of plump grey and white birds filled the blue expanse, and she knew he was
thinking of roast goose dripping fat over an open fire.