Savage Winter (13 page)

A shadow fell across Joanna’s face as someone walked between her and the campfire. She glanced up to see Windhawk standing over her.

“I will speak to Joanna alone, old man,” he said.

Farley gave Joanna an encouraging smile before he got up and ambled away.

The time had come! she thought in a panic. Windhawk was ready to talk. She wasn’t aware that she was plucking at her skirt nervously.

“Come,” he said. “We will walk.”

Joanna suddenly realized she was still holding the uneaten portion of meat and laid it aside. Getting to her feet, she followed Windhawk into the woods. For some reason, she was feeling apprehensive. How could they solve all that had gone wrong between them? She was still hurt because he had brought Red Bird into the village and angry because he had believed the worst about her.

Windhawk was some distance ahead of her, and Joanna had to run to catch up. There had been a time in the past when he had slowed his pace to match hers. Now it seemed he was unwilling to walk beside her.

Windhawk came to a fallen log and stopped, motioning for her to be seated. Joanna automatically obeyed.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence—Joanna refused to look up at Windhawk, but she felt his dark gaze burning into her and knew he was watching her closely.

“I have heard it said, when one is guilty of dishonor, he cannot look into the face of the person he has shamed,” Windhawk accused.

Joanna’s head snapped up, and she purposely allowed her
eyes to fuse to his. “That must
not
be true, because you do not look away from me!” she retorted.

His expression didn’t change. “Do you play games with me, Joanna?”

“No, I am dead serious. Who would dare play games with the all-knowing Windhawk?”

“You insult me…and I will not speak to you if you talk in the white man’s tongue.”

“You will have to forgive me, oh mighty one—you see, that was the language I was born into. If it offends you, so be it!” she deliberately replied in English.

He ignored her outburst, giving her the look of indulgence that one would bestow on a rebellious child. “First, I will ask you one thing. Do not speak falsely or I shall know it. Are you with child?”

Joanna closed her eyes for just a moment, wishing she could blurt out that she was now carrying the child he had wanted so badly.

Windhawk mistook her silence for an admission of guilt. “I see. You do not have to answer my question. You are with child.”

She raised her head proudly. “Yes, I am going to have a baby.”

“Did you lay with the long knife?” This was said in a painful whisper.

Joanna felt her anger climb. “Do you dare ask this of me after you took Red Bird to your mat?”

His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Did you do this thing with the long knife because you wanted to punish me for sending Red Bird to my village?”

Joanna was so angry she was shaking all over. “You can think what you will. I shall no longer talk to you. What I do not know is why you came after me in the first place. Why did you not just leave me alone?”

He reached out and drew her up beside him. “I wonder that myself,” he hissed. His grip was like a vice, and his face was so near hers she could feel his breath on her cheek.

He didn’t tell her that his heart had been ripped apart when he had heard that she was carrying another man’s child. He had been in torment the last few days, fearing to ask her about the long knife. Now she stood before him as if she had been the one betrayed.

“I know the Blackfoot custom of cutting off the nose of a woman who has taken a lover over her husband. Perhaps you will want to have that done to me.”

Windhawk shoved her away from him. “I will speak to you no more. To me…you are dead!”

Joanna clenched her hands tightly together. “Does this mean I am free to go?”

“Go from my sight. I no longer want to look upon your face.”

Joanna straightened her back. “I’m sure Farley would…take me to the nearest army outpost.”

Windhawk grabbed her arm. “You will go nowhere! I shall no longer look upon your face, but you will return with me to my village. You shall move into my mother’s lodge, but do not ever seek me out for any reason.”

Joanna could feel a sob rising up inside her. “Why are you doing this to me, Windhawk?”

“Leave me in peace,” he said, before stalking off into the night.

Joanna bit her lip to keep from crying out to him. How easily he had cast love aside when he took Red Bird. Joanna knew she had no choice but to return to the Blackfoot village. She would be forced to watch Windhawk and Red Bird together.

“I cannot bear this,” she said, leaning against the trunk of a tree. It was clear that Windhawk hated the sight of her. Had his love for the Indian woman wiped out the love they had shared?

“I will never allow Windhawk or anyone else to see my pain,” she moaned. At that moment, she felt the child within her body move, and it brought tears to her eyes. Poor little
baby, she thought; your father doesn’t want me, and he will not claim you, either.

Windhawk stood overlooking the valley they would descend into the next day. He felt an urgency to reach his village so he could be rid of Joanna. He wanted to put some distance between them. Even now, he felt a weakness within him. He wanted to go to her and take her in his arms, to feel the silken texture of her skin. Joanna had a hold on his heart that even her deceitfulness couldn’t loosen. She had as much as admitted that she was going to have the long knife’s baby. He closed his eyes, wishing he had driven his knife into the white man when he had the chance.

He would have sworn that Joanna had loved him! Could he have been so mistaken? He was in no mood to face her again tonight. He needed some time to think.

Joanna, Joanna, he thought in agony. Why do I still want you? He raised his face to the star-bright night. Why can I not let you go?

Farley noticed Joanna was unusually quiet when she returned to camp. He watched her curl up on her blanket and turn away from the fire.

The old man got up and kicked dirt on the campfire. Spreading his blanket out, he sat down on it and gazed up at the stars. He loved Joanna and didn’t like seeing her so unhappy. He was beginning to think it would have been better if Windhawk hadn’t found her.

Farley thought of what his life had been like before Joanna and Tag had come into it. He had only a vague memory of his own youth. He had lived in a small coastal town in New
Jersey with his mother and stepfather. Farley had never known his own father and had never cared much for his stepfather. He had been twelve when his mother had died. The day after her death, he had decided he would light out on his own. He had always had a hankering for the wilderness, so he had headed West.

He grew up fast in the Indian territory, and had soon learned, if he were going to survive, that he would have to be smarter than the Indians. That was when he decided that he would make the Indians believe he was crazy, knowing they would never harm anyone they thought touched by the spirits. More than once he had saved his life by acting the fool. Once he had convinced the Indians he was touched in the head, he had been allowed to move freely over their land. He had made a good living by trapping on Indian land, since he was allowed to go to places that were denied to the other trappers.

Farley had lived a solitary life until his twenty-ninth year. That was when he had taken She Who Sings as his wife. She had been a young Blackfoot maiden, and they had been happy together for twenty years. They had had no children.

After She Who Sings had died, Farley wandered the wilderness, trapping just enough to get by. His only thought had been to survive. That had changed after Joanna and Tag came into his life. He remembered the first time he had seen Joanna and Tag. They had been traveling with a wagon train, and had seemed to stand out among the other travelers. He remembered thinking that day that he had never seen anyone as fair as Joanna James. When he came to know her, he admired her goodness and spirit. He stayed around the Blackfoot village just to be near her and Tag, sort of an unofficial grandfather.

Farley liked and admired the young chief of the Bloods, but, like everyone else, he knew no one dared cross Windhawk. Farley had once been on the receiving end of Windhawk’s anger, and he knew that had it not been for Joanna’s intervention that day he would now be walking among the spirits.

He couldn’t believe Windhawk would ever take Red Bird for his wife. Surely, deep down, he would know that Joanna must know that, too. He didn’t know how this thing would turn out between Joanna and Windhawk, but he would just hang around and find out. He had gone against Windhawk once before for Joanna’s sake and, if he had to, he would do it again.

Joanna slept fretfully that night. Each time she awoke, she noticed that Windhawk wasn’t lying on his blanket. He didn’t return to camp all night, and she wondered where he could be. She had no way of knowing that he was spending a sleepless night, agonizing over their relationship.

Before sunrise the next morning, when they were ready to move out, Windhawk suddenly appeared. He spoke to no one as he waited for them to mount their horses.

Farley couldn’t help but notice that not once did Windhawk look in Joanna’s direction. There was bad trouble between them, the old trapper reckoned. He caught Gray Fox’s eye and realized that the young warrior realized it also.

The scenery was becoming more familiar to Joanna, and she knew they were nearing the Blackfoot village. She dreaded this homecoming more than she had realized. Windhawk had told her she would be staying with his mother. Did that mean Red Bird had already moved into his lodge?

Glancing over at Windhawk, she saw the scowl on his face. She would live with Sun Woman and Morning Song until her baby was born. She would look the other way whenever Windhawk passed by with his new wife, but she wouldn’t spend the rest of her days as a forgotten woman in the Blackfoot village. As soon as her baby was born, she would decide what would be the best thing for her to do.

The only happy part of her return would be seeing Tag again, she thought. She had no idea how Windhawk’s mother and sister would feel about her homecoming. Would they believe that she had run away, as Windhawk did?

When they topped a hill, Joanna pulled Fosset to a halt and gazed down upon the mighty Missouri River that stretched on as far as the eye could see. Through the woods she could see the village nestled on the bank of the river. There was no joy in her heart that she had come home as she nudged her horse forward to descend the hill.

Windhawk rode just ahead of Joanna. She noticed how stiff and rigid he held his back. He looked so magnificent with his black hair rippling in the wind.

Her heart cried out at the injustice of his accusations. He hadn’t wanted to hear anything she had to tell him. In believing Claudia’s lies, he had justified his reasons for taking Red Bird. Not that he needed any justification; he was free to take as many wives as he chose under Blackfoot law. He could fill his lodge with a dozen women, she thought, but she would not be one of them!

Joanna tried not to remember the love they had once shared. She battled within herself to push aside the memory of how she had felt when he touched her. His declarations of love had all been a farce. When he had sworn eternal love to her and told her he would never take another woman as his wife, he had only been trying to appease her. Or perhaps he had meant it at the time. She would fight within herself to be rid of this deep longing she felt to return to the life they had once shared. In time, she would forget that she had ever been Windhawk’s woman, but right now all she could think of was how much she loved him.

She watched Windhawk enter the river at a shallow spot, and she moved forward. No, she reminded herself honestly, she could never forget Windhawk. The baby she carried would be a constant reminder of the love she and Windhawk had shared a lifetime ago.

Sun Woman welcomed her into her tipi with open arms. When she learned that Joanna was having a baby, she could hardly contain her joy and rushed about the village telling everyone she would soon be a grandmother.

Joanna had been back in the Blackfoot village for three weeks. She hadn’t seen Windhawk since the first day they had come home. Sun Woman told her that he had rejoined his warriors in the buffalo hunt. Tag had not yet returned to the village, and Joanna was anxious to see him.

No one bothered to ask Joanna whether she had run away on the night she disappeared. The Blackfoot always accepted people for what they were and rarely pried into others’ private affairs.

Morning Song had helped her move all her belongings into Sun Woman’s tipi. It had been a painful ordeal for Joanna when she had gone to Windhawk’s lodge to pack her clothing. She tried not to think about the times Windhawk had held her in his arms and made her body come alive with his lovemaking. She refused to look at the bed of buffalo robes where they had spent so much time in each other’s arms. She was glad when the last article of clothing had been packed and she was able to leave the place where she had known such happiness. She was grateful because, if Windhawk had taken Red Bird as his wife, at least, she hadn’t yet moved into his lodge. She was not yet ready to come face to face with the Piegan woman.

For the first few days after returning to the Blackfoot village, Joanna had wanted to remain inside Sun Woman’s tipi. She knew it would be very difficult facing her friends’ sorrowful glances. Would they pity her when they found out Windhawk had cast her aside? She finally realized that one couldn’t hide from life forever. She would have to face her friends sooner or later. When, at last, she found the courage to go among the people, she discovered that they eagerly welcomed her back, and no one referred to the fact that she was no longer living with Windhawk. Joanna felt somewhat relieved when she learned that Red Bird had still not moved into Windhawk’s lodge. Of course, she realized it would probably be only a matter of time until Windhawk took Red Bird as his wife.

Joanna walked beside the river, watching it lap against the shore. Looking upward at the branches of a cottonwood tree, she noticed the leaves had begun to change colors. Her mind drifted back to another autumn. She and Windhawk had made love beneath the trees while the brightly colored leaves had drifted down all about them.

Several times she had seen Red Bird, but only at a distance. So far she had been successful in avoiding an encounter with her.

Joanna felt as if her life were going nowhere; she was but waiting for the passing of time. In the daytime she kept busy by helping Sun Woman and Morning Song, but at night, when she lay on her mat alone, her mind would drift back to happier times—the times when she lay in the arms of the tall, handsome chief and felt his love reach out to her. Those times were gone forever, and Joanna realized she would soon have to look to the future.

She knew the time was drawing near when the tribe would be moving to their winter camp beside the Milk River. The winter location was the place she really thought of as her home. It was there among the Sweet Grass Hills that she had first become Windhawk’s wife.

By now, Joanna’s stomach was beginning to gently swell with the baby she was carrying. She looked forward to the time when the baby would be born, so she could decide what to do about her future. So far, she couldn’t make any plans. In the back of her mind she knew she was merely waiting for Tag to return so she could discuss it with him.

Her father’s servant, Simon, was still waiting for her and Tag in Philadelphia. If Windhawk would allow her to leave, perhaps she, Tag, and the baby would go there. Joanna could sell the rest of her mother’s jewels, and she and Tag could get a small place in the country.

“It was on a day very much like this one that you first came to us, Flaming Hair.”

Joanna turned around to find the old medicine woman standing just behind her. “It is good to see you, She Who
Heals. You were not here when I returned, my friend, and I have missed you.”

The old, wrinkled-faced woman sat down and motioned for Joanna to sit beside her. “I have been in the mountains gathering berries and herbs to make my cures. This is the season when the berries are at their best.”

Joanna sat beside the old woman, noticing how tired and frail she looked. “You should not go into the mountains alone, She Who Heals. Next time you need to go, tell me, and I will go with you.” Joanna loved She Who Heals and was concerned because she was getting too old for the long expeditions she took into the mountains.

“I am an old woman, and if it comes my time to walk among the spirits, it will happen wherever I am.”

Joanna smiled. “Has anyone told you that you are a stubborn woman?”

The old woman nodded in agreement. “When one reaches my age, one can do as one pleases and not worry about what others expect of one.”

Joanna patted the gnarled hand. “Something tells me you did not have to reach this age to do as you wanted. I would guess you have always had your own way!”

The old woman’s crackling laughter rang out. “I might say the same for you, Flaming Hair. You have our young chief dangling by a rawhide rope.”

“Not so, She Who Heals. I have cut all my ties with your chief.”

The old woman looked deep into Joanna’s eyes. “Does he know about the child you carry?”

Joanna returned She Who Heals’s scrutiny. “Yes, Windhawk knows about the baby.”

“Why, then, are you not in Windhawk’s lodge making ready for his return?”

Joanna’s eyes flamed. “Let Red Bird cook and clean for him! I will not!”

“Windhawk waited many summers before he took a wife. He chose you—I do not think he will take the Piegan woman
to him. Have I not seen him happy with you as his woman? Did I not see his sorrow and rage when he thought you had run away from him? I know Windhawk very well, and I do not believe he would ever take the Piegan woman to his mat.”

“You are wrong, She Who Heals. Windhawk has already been with her.”

“Many men lie with a woman…it does not mean he will take that woman as his wife.”

“It is all the same to me. I will never forgive Windhawk for betraying me.”

“Ah, I see the direction the wind blows. I, too, have heard the stories the Piegan woman has told. Saying something does not make it so.”

Joanna didn’t realize her eyes had widened hopefully. “Do you think the woman spoke falsely?”

She Who Heals folded her hands in her lap. “I think it might be possible. You will have to seek the truth from Windhawk himself.”

Joanna stood up and looked down at the old woman. “I do not care what Windhawk does. As I told you, I am no longer his wife.”

The medicine woman took Joanna’s hand. “I know what you are thinking, Flaming Hair. You think, when the baby comes, you will find a way to leave. He will never allow you to leave with his child. Never!”

Joanna withdrew her hand. “He does not think the child is his.”

“Then he is a fool!”

Joanna laughed. “I challenge you to tell Windhawk that he is a fool.”

She Who Heals lowered her head. “He does not need me to tell him of his shortcomings—in time, he will come to know this for himself.”

Joanna decided to change the subject. “I have been helping Sun Woman pack her belongings. When do we move to the winter village?”

“In no more than six moons.”

Joanna didn’t see Red Bird passing until the woman stopped to speak to her. “I cannot wait until we get to the winter village. Windhawk will come home then, and before the winter season, I shall be his wife!”

Joanna’s first instinct was to fly at the woman and scratch her eyes out, but common sense prevailed when She Who Heals put a restraining hand on her arm. She merely glared at Red Bird.

“You reach high, Piegan woman,” She Who Heals declared loyally.

Red Bird looked at the old medicine woman with contempt etched on her face. “I am the daughter of a great chief—who else would my father give me to but another great chief? I reach no higher than what I deserve.”