CHAPTER NINE
"How could you, Frederic? How rude of you! And, you, my brother!"
Briella turned away, but was pulled back by Frederic. "Do not make a scene."
"I? I made no scene. You did!"
"You are to stay here with me and dance as though you are enjoying it. Only then may you leave."
Briella made a sound that might have been a laugh, but it wasn't. It sounded more like snort.
Throwing herself backward and out of Frederic's reach, she turned away and fled from the dance floor and out onto the patio as she had seen Red Fox do. But, she didn't see Red Fox. Where was he?
Looking around the plains that lay between her and the buttes, she couldn't espy him anywhere. She stamped her foot, as though the action might make Red Fox appear. But, it was not to be.
Tears formed in her eyes. What a mess she was in. What a mess she was making. She had not known what to do and so had tried to placate Red Fox, but in the end, she feared she had been a part of insulting him…this man she loved so greatly and was even now married to by Pikuni tradition.
It would be terrible, indeed, if all this trouble she was in had been her own doing, but it wasn't. At least not fully. And, now Red Fox was gone.
Or was he gone?
Listening as Red Fox had taught her to do, faintly, very faintly, she could hear the sound of drumming. Where was it coming from?
She closed her eyes and listened. It took a moment, but at last she knew where he was. He had gone into the hills to where he would have left the wolf and his pony.
She would go to him. At this moment, she cared nothing for most of the people who were in the ballroom. The one man whom she loved with all her heart was up there somewhere. She would find him.
Unmindful of the pink silk gown she wore and the high-heeled slippers she had on her feet, she began running across the prairie, certain she knew where he would have gone.
As Briella climbed up the slope of the hill, she looked down at the dirt clinging to the bottom of her dress, and, although she gasped—because this was her best gown—she shrugged.
Nothing, not even the cost of this beautiful gown, was more important than finding Red Fox.
She followed the sound of the drumming and soon began to hear the song: it was one she recognized. It was a Pikuni love song, one sung often in camp.
She at last climbed up to the ledge where only a few days previously she and Red Fox had shot at Assiniboine warriors.
Here, she saw Red Fox sitting down upon a short tuft of grass, his drum and mallet in hand.
The love song had a slower beat to it than most of the songs meant for dancing.
It had no words, but the ache in the melody communicated, more than words could have, what was in his heart.
Making some slight noise so he would know she was there, she walked up to him and sat down facing him, unmindful of the grass possibly staining her dress. Instead, she brought her dress into a circle around her.
When the song was finished and he, at last, gave her his full attention, she murmured, "Sing another song, and I shall dance for you."
"I will do as you ask. However, my song is not as pretty as the music down there at your father's ranch. However, it comes from my heart."
Briella closed her eyes. "Don't you know, my love? Your song means more to me than all the beautiful waltzes in the world. There is nothing prettier to my heart than your Pikuni love song. Won't you sing it again?"
"If you desire it, I will."
"I wish it very much."
Nodding, he began the song again. It was in a minor key, but his song, although it had no words, touched her heart as no song had ever done.
Rising, she began to move to the music and the slow beat of Red Fox's drum, up and down, as she had often seen the Pikuni women do when only the men were dancing.
And then, filled with inspiration, she began to twirl around and around, raising her arms into the air as the beat of his drum filled her soul.
Twirling and swirling this way and that as she danced around the ledge, she had no thought as to how it might look when a girl in pink silk mimicked the steps she had seen the men of the tribe dance at different celebrations.
She bent over at the waist, as she had so often seen them do, and taking her gun out of its holster, she held it up as she had witnessed others—the men—do.
The moon was almost full this night, and as it shone down on the pink silk of her dress, she danced and danced as though she were a warrior true, reenacting how a man might have raided another tribe to obtain several ponies.
When at last Red Fox ended the song, she stepped toward him and sat down on the ledge; again she faced him.
She said, "I love you, Red Fox. I will love you all my life and perhaps even beyond."
"As I love you. I have never seen a woman dance like this."
"I meant no disrespect."
"Saa, there was no disrespect. Only beauty. There you were, dancing and wearing the fancy clothing of your culture, yet moving to the beat of my drum in imitation of a Pikuni warrior. If I sing, will you dance for me again?"
"I will," she whispered.
Taking up his mallet once more, he beat out the rhythm of the song, then began to sing, only this time he put words to the melody of the minor key, and although she had stood up and was now twirling about as she had done before, she listened to his words, which were sung in Blackfeet:
Never have I seen such beauty as you are.
Never have I been more in love.
Dance for me, my love.
You alone hold my heart.
This I swear, if you will be mine and only mine,
I will give you all the love and laughter I have to give.
Dance for me, my love, as I promise this to you:
I will not say bad words to you.
Always I will remember this, our love.
I will sing forever if you will only dance for me through life.
Be mine, my love, and I will sing to you forever."
When he had finished his song, she paced toward him and then sat close before him, placing her hands on his shoulders. There were tears in her eyes and a knot in her throat when she said, "I am yours as you are mine. Always."
From below them came the strains of another beautiful waltz, and looking deeply into his eyes, she said, "Dance with me, Red Fox. Please dance with me to the rhythm of the song down there."
She rose up to her feet and held her hand out to him.
And, when he took her hand into his own and stood up, bringing her up with him, he led her out onto a bare spot on the ledge, where he began the waltz steps.
And, they danced to the beauty of the waltz, around and around the ledge.
But, as the music kept on, he pressed his body more intimately against hers, and when he took hold of her waist and lifted her up toward the moon, she looked down upon his face, so handsome in the silver-like moonbeams.
They stared at one another, she above him and he looking up at her with tenderness in his eyes.
It was a moment of becoming one in spirit, a sensation and awareness beyond even admiration of one another.
Then he smiled at her, and he twirled around and around while holding her still high above him, until at last, grasping her tightly to him, he brought her to the ground and sank to his knees, bringing her with him.
Kneeling on the solid ledge below them, he pressed her body in close to his.
Then, bending his head, he kissed her. First, he caressed her lips, then her eyes, her cheeks, each one in turn. His hands came up to stroke her face as he whispered, "I am yours. No matter what happens from this moment forward and until eternity, I am yours."
His words brought happy tears to her eyes, but between her sobs, she managed to say, "And, I am yours."
As the kindly moon shone down on them, illuminating his handsome features—his dark eyes, his straight nose and his full lips—she said, "Make love to me, Red Fox. I ache to be one with you in body, as well as in spirit…now…forever."
"But we are here where all eyes could see us and I could be caught—"
"Please."
Without further protest, he rose up to his full tall stature, bringing her with him.
Then, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms, he climbed up and over the cliff, striding onto the plains and quickly disappearing with her into the pines where he had left his horse.
And, there beneath the quivering pines, he loved her, showering her with the love she craved so much she felt as if she might burst.
And, perhaps the Creator was with them this night, because they stayed with one another throughout the short night and on into the morning without a single war party finding them and without interference from the celebration taking place below them, the party down there continuing well into the early hours of the morning.
****
As George watched his sister and his friend dance in each other's arms, he knew he had to do something to aid them in this, their impossible love. But, how?
What were his parents doing, preventing these two from becoming man and wife? Did they not see the passion behind each glance the two of them shared? Could his parents really be so hard-hearted? So blind?
Yes, he had followed his sister here, not to spy on her, but to aid his friend in protecting her against any stray horse-stealing war party.
He had not meant to intrude upon his friend and Briella in their declaration of love for one another, nor to witness their amorous dance.
He understood the Blackfoot language, and he was well aware of the poem and the vows Red Fox had recited to his sister.
He was, however, unaware there was another who had followed him, and stood now behind him, until he heard a sound and felt a presence behind him. How could he have been so unaware as to allow someone to come so silently upon him? He, a scout?
As he swung around, he was confronted not by a warrior, but by his mother.