Sunflower (55 page)

“Are
you
happy?” Meika asked, her attempt at communication a combination of halting Dutch and hand gestures. Yet Analisa understood what her sister struggled to ask.

“Ja.
I am happy.” Analisa tried to smile. It was a beginning.

“The others are all dead?” Meika asked.

“Ja.”
Analisa found no gentle way to acknowledge the harsh facts. “All dead. Only you and Pieter and I remain.”

Meika was silent as she seemed to digest the words. She then spoke again. “Do you understand?” she asked, her eyes wide and pleading. “I cannot go with you, but I do not hate you. The old Meika is no more.”

Staring hard at the girl dressed in her Sioux finery, Analisa took in the white braids bound with beaded ties, the soft fringe at the hem of a skirt that swayed gently with every movement, and became aware that the old Meika was indeed no more. Not because she had assumed the clothing and mannerisms of a Sioux wife, but because what she had once been inside had changed as well.
Just as I have changed,
Analisa realized. Yes, she thought as she watched the beautiful girl stand uncomfortably before her, I do understand. Meika had clearly expressed what Analisa was only beginning to realize. Their old lives were gone forever. Each had found a new way, a new life, and new loves. It was time to let the old life go.

On impulse, Analisa reached out, not to try to bind Meika to her, but to assure her sister that she loved her still, loved her enough to let her go. At Analisa’s touch Meika stood rigid, but as she heard Analisa whisper, she relaxed and returned the embrace.

“I understand,” Analisa said softly and pulled back to bestow a smile upon her sister. “I understand. The old Anja is gone, too.” She hugged Meika close one last time and then told her, “Be happy, little one.
Ik houd van jou.
I love you.”

The sisters smiled, mirroring each other in feeling as well as appearance. Meika glanced toward the door and then murmured, “I am going now.”

She moved away. Soon the buffalo-hide flap closed behind her, and she was gone.

Alone in the silence of the empty tepee, Analisa sat down and removed her shoes and stockings. She hiked her skirts up to her thighs, exposing her long legs to what little draft filtered down through the smoke hole. Rolling up her sleeves, she leaned against the back rest Caleb had hung for her against the ridge pole and sighed. She unbuttoned the bodice of her dress in an effort to seek release from the heat and closed her eyes, feeling the need to think over all that had transpired.

She’d found her sister only to lose her again, yet this time she could put the past behind her, knowing that Meika and Pieter were living the life they chose, not one that had been forced on them.

Shifting to a more comfortable position, she let her mind wander over the past few years. She knew in her heart that she, like Meika, was an entirely new person, one forced to grow from the hardships life had shown her.

This time, as she thought about the past, she dwelled not upon the massacre but upon the changes that it had wrought, changes that forged this new self. The innocence of youth had been stolen from her along with her family, and during the months that followed she had battled her own shame as well as that heaped upon her by the community. Still, mingled with the hurt and degradation were the few happy memories the years had given her. She remembered vividly the day Kase was born. Never would she forget the moment, when Opa had laid the tiny brown boy-child with rosebud lips in her arms. The love she had felt for him was so great that it had overshadowed her shame and lightened her heart.

She recalled, too, those first freezing Iowa winters in the soddie, winters so cold she’d been forced to tie Kase in his bed, lest he crawl out from beneath his covers at night and freeze to death. She’d learned to pack her
klompen
with straw to protect her feet from frostbite whenever she went outdoors.

Then she had put aside her shyness and insecurity for independence. To provide for her son and Opa, she’d spent long evening hours learning to design patterns and piece together fashions. No longer forced to face the townsfolk and accept their handouts, she had gained their business, if not their respect.

Now, as Analisa mused upon the past, she was suffused with pride in her own accomplishments, certain the women of Pella would not have hired her to sew their finery out of mere kindness, for their dollars were far too dear, but because her skills were superior to anyone else’s.

A typical day in the soddie had consisted of cooking three full meals for Opa and Kase, tending the animals and the garden, weekly baking, the endless laundry and cleaning —accomplishments any woman could be proud of, and she’d taken them on when she was but sixteen years old.

Then there was Caleb. Her lips curved into a dreamy smile as she remembered the first time he had made love to her beneath the cottonwoods. Was he surprised, she wondered, to find her so eager to lie with him, a man she barely knew, simply because the minister had pronounced them wed? He must have understood her need to give something in return, for had he not come back to her? And what a homecoming! Recalling that passionate lovemaking in the cow shed caused her blood to surge. A pulsing warmth invaded her senses.

It was too hot to think of things that only raised her temperature, so she tried to picture Sophie and Jon as she’d last seen them, tearfully waving good-bye at the station. Analisa said a silent prayer that they would someday meet again. She thought of the new family she had in Ruth and Abbie. Although they were none of them related by blood, they’d grown as close as family over the past few weeks.

Yes, Analisa decided. Her life had indeed changed, and would continue to do so, for that was the way of life. For the first time, she was eager to see what the future held in store for them, and wondered if Caleb intended to keep his word and quit his job with the Bureau of Indian Affairs.

Where
was
Caleb? Impatient, she lifted her skirts and fanned them up and down. It was at that moment that he chose to appear.

“Is that a new sort of signal?” He beamed appreciatively at the sight of his wife’s silken thighs. “Are you in distress?”

Caleb ducked inside and circled around to the right to join her. She noted how the customs of the Sioux were second nature to him.

“Ja,
I am in distress. I am boiling like a potato.” She started to push her petticoat and skirt down to cover her legs.

“Don’t do that on my account.” Caleb joined her, assuming a cross-legged position directly opposite. He smiled wickedly, his strong white teeth enhancing the deep bronze of his complexion.

“Where have you been?”

“Checking on Kase. He is off with his band of friends. Taking his knocks, I’d say, from the looks of him.”

“Knocks?” She was suddenly concerned.

“He’s fine. I told him to be back here before supper.” He took one of her feet in his hands and began to massage the sensitive arch. Lethargic from the heat, she fought to keep her eyes open as Caleb’s ministrations lulled her into deep relaxation.

“I thought you might want to be alone for a while.” His voice sounded far away, and she forced her eyes open to gaze at him with a dreamy faraway expression.

“It was good to think for a while alone.”

“I’m sorry about your sister; I know how much taking her home meant to you.”

“She came here.”

“She did?” As he voiced his surprise, his fingers stopped momentarily, then began the slow deep kneading once more.

“Ja,
because she wanted me to understand.”

“Do you?”

“I do now. We are not the same anymore.”

She nodded in agreement and added, “To live is to change, I think.”

What we have is very good,
she thought, as she watched him through lowered lashes. This moment is good. It felt so right to sit and talk with him, to share her thoughts and feelings, that Analisa wished the moment could go on and on, for it was a beautiful, peaceful exchange that seemed as natural as their lovemaking. She added the moment to the collection of memories in her mind, her photographs of life, ones to be taken out and studied in times of reflection.

She closed her eyes as he began to work on her other foot.

“Caleb?”

“Hmm?”

“You look very silly sitting there in those clothes.”

“They’re the best Duffy and Peak had to offer. New trousers, white linen shirt, suspenders, clean socks ...”

“Not good for a tepee ...”

“Would you rather I took them off?”

The rustle of clothing reached her ears, and her eyes flew open immediately.

“I’d rather we were at home,” Analisa admitted and began fanning her skirt again.

“What you need is a swim.
Komop.”
He stood and pulled her up without hesitation.
“Wij gaa nou.”

“Oh, no!” she moaned as she let him lead her toward the door. “I think you must be turning Dutch!”

The stream was wide and slow moving, far deeper than the creek behind the soddie, and Analisa hesitated when she saw Caleb dive in and then stand in shoulder-deep water near the shore. The sparkling surface rippled above the green depths, and the cool relief the clear water offered soon overshadowed her fear as a nonswimmer.

“No one will see?” She stared suspiciously at the open landscape. The bluffs above provided a lookout over the entire stream bed.

“Do you see anyone around?”

“Not right now, but maybe someone will come along ...”

“This time of day everyone is resting. You stay there and watch my clothes, and I’ll swim alone.” He disappeared, his dark head a blur, his skin flashing like the coat of a sleek brown beaver beneath the water. With sure, steady strokes he moved upstream, turned over on his back, and then floated lazily past. The sight was far too tempting for Analisa to resist any longer.

She unbuttoned the bodice of her dress and untied the waistband, then loosened her petticoat, and shucked the garments as quickly as she could before she changed her mind, all the while keeping a wary eye on their surroundings. She left her camisole and pantalets on and struggled down the slippery bank. The water lapped cool and inviting around her ankles, and she waded contentedly until she lost her footing and found herself sliding down the muddy bank farther into the water than she had intended.

Thrusting her hands down to her sides to stop her descent, she only succeeded in plunging them up to the wrists in mud. Caleb’s strong fingers closed around her ankle and Analisa tried in vain to pull away as he forced her to slide downward until she was sitting waist deep in the water.

“Oh, Caleb!” she wailed. “Look at me.”

“I am.”

She followed his heated gaze and saw that her wet camisole was as revealing as if she wore nothing at all. If anything, the sight of her peaked nipples pressing against the wet, transparent material was more seductive than nudity.

He bobbed before her, floating upon his back, his arms extended and supporting him in the water, just inches from her. “You have to come all the way in to wash that mud off.”

“No.”

“Come on. I’ll hold you.”

Tempted more by his smile than by the thought of being clean, Analisa complied and rubbed the mud off her hands before she reached out to him. He drew her into the current, and she was forced to cling to him for support. Soon they were in shoulder-high water, and Analisa found herself molded against Caleb by the slow steady current flowing around them. He turned onto his side and drifted lazily along, guiding them with easy, scissoring motions while she held on to his shoulders and reveled in the feel of his well-honed muscles as they bunched and relaxed beneath the palms of her hands. Caleb half swam, half floated until he reached a quiet pool midstream. The water eddied and flowed about the edges, but the surface of the pool was nearly still. A large rock at the far end provided a perfect resting place, and Caleb stopped before it, using the boulder as a backrest to keep from floating farther down stream.

“Feeling cooler now?” His hands moved lazily along her back, and she found it quite natural to loop her arms loosely about his shoulders. His hair was short again, in the style he’d worn when she first met him. It waved about the nape of his neck in thick, luxuriant curls and glistened blue-black in the afternoon sunlight.

She nodded in answer to his question, yet felt anything but cool in the intimate embrace.

His lips were silky smooth as they brushed against hers, tempting, teasing. She glanced at him coyly from beneath lowered lashes.

“I think I’m getting warmer,” she teased.

He lowered his lips to hers once more, and her senses were filled with him. The coolness of the water was a sharp contrast to the warmth inside his mouth as he opened his lips and teased her tongue with his own. In the open air the scent that was Caleb was all the more apparent. Strong and masculine, it was his and his alone. His skin was silk and honey beneath her fingertips, the cinnamon sheen of it standing out in sharp contrast to her own.

The sensations running up and down her thighs were far from cool as she realized that it was his arousal that pressed so eagerly against her. She strained against him in return, excited by the feel of his urgency. When his hands reached up to tangle in her hair and pull it down around her shoulders, she moaned in need and anticipation. Clinging to him, she let herself return his kiss with the first truly wild abandon she’d ever dared. Caleb reacted to her excitement and delved deeper as he ground his lips into hers, pressing his hand against the back of her head as if he wished to draw her into himself.

Throbbing with urgency, she rubbed against him, entangling her limbs with his, thankful that he was able to maintain his balance against the smooth boulder. She felt his hands at the waistband of her pantalet and wondered why she had left them on. The water caused the knot to stick, and as he fought with the twisted ties, she buried her face against his neck, peppered it with feather-light brushes of her lips, and then moved down to cover his throat and smooth, hairless chest with kisses.