Chapter 20 #2
The sun had long since left the sky when Swift Hawk at last finished the recounting of his story.
Outside, the rain still fell from the clouds, though it did so in a much gentler fashion.
Though the moon was hidden by dark clouds, sounds of the night crept into their shelter—the crickets, the locusts, the nighthawk, the wolf.
Even the coyotes yipping in the distance added to the sounds of the prairie at night.
Angelia and Swift Hawk reclined toward the opening of their lean-to, the fire at their feet, a supper of prairie chicken well eaten. At present, it was calm outside, so quiet it was hard to imagine that only this afternoon their world had been amok.
Angelia lay cuddled within the warmth of Swift Hawk’s embrace, her head on his shoulder, one of her legs straddling his thigh. The trade-blanket was thrown haphazardly over them both, though neither seemed to need it. And why should they? They had each other.
Swift Hawk had finished speaking to her only a few moments past, and Angelia lay within his arms, silent. Odd how she had become used to the soft whisper of his voice.
What should she say? How did a person respond when confronted with such a fantastic story?
Glancing up at him briefly, Angelia was beginning to wonder if it might be true, what Swift Hawk had earlier observed. Perhaps it was so that the white man was too divorced from the spiritual. For she was having a difficult time coming to grips with this.
In faith, to say that his story was fantastic was an understatement. And yet there was one thing about it that was, indeed, a certainty: Swift Hawk believed the story implicitly.
And, in the end, she believed in Swift Hawk.
Drawing in a deep breath, she said at last, “And so, you are here to free your people?”
“Haa’he. I am.”
“And you had hoped that I could help you free them?”
“Haa’he.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why me?”
His arms tightened around her. “Because I saw you in a vision.”
“In a vision?”
“Haa’he. As I sat alone upon a high butte, I prayed to the Creator for a vision.
For many days there was nothing. And then you came to me.
You and your brother. I saw you, in a wagon.
Your brother was driving it, and you had your rifle in your hands.
You were bent down, facing backward and leaning over the seat.
And you were shooting at something behind you. ”
A muscle flicked wildly in her cheek. “How did you know that?”
She hadn’t meant her words to be sharp, although to her own ears, they stung. However, Swift Hawk merely inclined his head. “I have seen it. I have seen you and your brother in a vision, more than once.”
“More than once? You have had more than one vision? About us?”
“Haa’he. About you.”
This gave her pause, although presently, she said, “So when you came to the fort, you were really looking for me and my brother?”
He nodded. “I was.”
“But how can that be?” She came up onto her elbows that she might look into his face. “That first time we met, you acted as though you disliked me.”
Swift Hawk shrugged. “You were not as I expected you to be. I thought, since you were a being from my vision, that you would be the perfect image of my people’s ideal woman—soft-spoken, demure, retiring, yet strong in heart.”
“Soft-spoken, retiring?”
“So I thought. But you were none of those things, except being strong of heart.”
“Hmmm. I am certainly none of those things.”
“Except being strong of heart,” he reiterated.
She lay back down, cradling her head within the crook of his shoulder. “No wonder you were disappointed, if you were expecting me to be perfect.”
She could sense his grin; sense it because she didn’t glance up to see it.
He said, “It was Red Fox who brought me to realize that in all the world there is no such thing as perfection. I was expecting something that could never be. Besides, in that first meeting, there was another problem between us that plagued me, perhaps more than the rest.”
“Oh?”
She felt his slight nod, but he didn’t elaborate. At his silence on the subject, she asked, “And what was that problem?”
“Do you want the truth?”
“Yes, I think so,” she said.
“Very well.” He inhaled sharply. “The truth is that I wanted you as a man wants a wife almost at once. I was shocked at myself. You were a vision, given to me by the Creator. It was not my right to harbor such carnal thoughts about you. And yet, short of walking away from you and never seeing you again—something I could not do—I was powerless to stop it.”
“Really? You thought that? You were? I had no idea.”
“And yet it was so. It has been a problem for me, but perhaps this is a problem no more.”
“Yes. I think this is a problem well solved.” They both grinned at each other then dropped into silence.
Gathering her thoughts together, she realized she needed to say more.
“I think I can safely say that the mathematics and history I have been teaching you will do little to help you free your people. What is it you must do again to break the curse? Show kindness to an enemy?”
“Haa’he, and give aid.”
She paused for the space of a moment, although almost at once another thought occurred to her. “When you first came here, did you think that my brother and I were your enemy?”
He shrugged. “I did not think so then, and I do not think so now, and in truth, never have I thought that way of either of you. However, the same cannot be said for the white man in general, for I have always mistrusted the white man in this country. But you came to me through a good force in my life, and when I saw you, my first impression was that you were an angel sent to me to help me break the spell. I still feel there is some role you are to play in this, though I do not know what it is.”
“I see. And so this is why you agreed to let me teach you at night—you thought I might help you determine what it is that you need to do to break the spell?”
“Perhaps. But in truth, I agreed to let you teach me despite my better judgment. For you must remember that I have been attracted to you all along, and it was an enticement that I thought should not be. Yet, you were, you are, a part of this. And so it seemed only right to let you do what you thought was necessary. It might have helped.”
“But it hasn’t helped, has it?”
“It drew me closer to you. That is a good thing.”
“Yes.” She dropped once again into her own thoughts. Did she know of anything that could truly help him? Could her father be of assistance? With prayer?
Perhaps, but her father wasn’t here.
Uneasily, Angelia stirred. “I fear that I can think of nothing that would help. Perhaps, my husband, you are right, and the white man has very little of the spiritual about him.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But you have already assisted me in many ways.”
“I have?”
“Haa’he, you have. Are we not married? Are we not lying here in one another’s arms? And yet I had once given an oath to the Creator that I would not take a woman to my bed until I had freed my people. But you changed that for me.”
“I?”
“Yes, you. That morning at the river when I sighted you, I saw you, and yet the image before me was not entirely the way you are now. In my vision, I beheld you not as a white woman, but as my wife.”
“Your wife?”
“Haa’he. And it was then that I realized that whether you could help me free my people or not, it was not important. Seeing you as my wife was the Creator’s way of giving me hope. Hope for a future, hope for happiness. In truth, it is more than I have had for many years.”
Angelia gulped. She? She had given him hope? A warm flush swept over her. “Oh, Swift Hawk, what a noble thing for you to say. And it reminds me of how much I love you. But I don’t really know if I can help you. I will try, though.”
She lay back, but no sooner had she done so than another thought occurred to her, and she scooted up so that she could lean onto one of her elbows. “Are you certain that what you are doing now, following me, is what is necessary to break the spell? I mean, do you think this is where you should be?”
“No,” he admitted, “I am not certain of that anymore. I have had another vision that leads me to believe that there might yet be another path, a different path. After I accompany you and your brother safely to Santa Fe, I will do what I can to pick up this new trail.”
Angelia hesitated and drew her brows together in a frown. But though she was quiet, Swift Hawk did not interrupt her thoughts. After a while, she said, “No.”
“No?”
“No, you shouldn’t take us all the way to Santa Fe.”
Rising up, he smiled into her eyes, then he placed his lips against her forehead. “It is kind of you to release me from my promise, but you must know that I would not be an honorable man if I let you do it.”
“But—”
“Your brother will make mistakes that will bring attention to him—you know that he will. I could not leave here knowing this, for he might attract these bounty hunters to you.”
“Really, I think that—”
“No,” he emphasized the word. “You will not sway me on this. I will see you both safely to Santa Fe. Then I will discover this other trail.” Once more, he lay back against the ground.
She nodded, following his lead and, moving onto her side, she cuddled her body against his. There was something very erotic about discussing such subjects with one’s lover, in the nude, in a lean-to, out on the prairie. Erotic, and yet natural, all at the same time.
“Can you tell me about this other vision?”
He shrugged. “It is not a common thing to share one’s vision with another, for a vision is a private thing, and a man may go his entire life following what the Creator has set forth for him. Even still, the only people who would know of his vision are himself and his medicine man.”
“Oh. I see.”
“But because you are part of this,” he continued, “and a part of my vision, I think that I might speak to you of it.”
She inclined her head gently. “I would like to hear of it, then. Perhaps I might still be able to be of some help.”
“It is possible. You might. It happened earlier, shortly after the sun hit its highest peak.”
“Around noon,” she interpreted.
“Haa’he. I was on the prairie, and with the dark clouds coming, I threatened the Thunderer, challenging him to a duel.
As I was turning away, I saw the vision, there in the clouds.
It was an image of two men. One was a white man who wore a black hat and black boots.
His mustache was black, as was the hair upon his head, and he wore a red shirt and buckskin trousers. ”
Angelia nodded. It could be anybody. “And the other man?”
“He was a short man, fat, with little hair on his head, though what hair he did have was black and was slicked across his head. He was dressed differently than the first man, than any of the other white people I have seen, thus far. His trousers were of a material similar to those I have seen made by the Pueblo Indians, those Indians who live a little farther south and west of us. This man’s shirt was also of a different color and looked like the cotton shirts of the French, yet not quite the same.
And he had a flimsy material of sorts at his neck. ”
“Yes, I understand. What you have described could fit the description of any well-to-do man in the southern part of our country.” She frowned as an unusual image took shape within her mind, one that wouldn’t let go.
Why, Swift Hawk might be describing a man she knew… a man she despised. “Was there more?”
“Yes. My people were there also, happy, but most important they were free. In my vision I had accomplished my purpose. It is this that leads me to believe that my path may be to find these men, for I think they might lead me to breaking the curse.”
“Yes. Yes, it would seem so. However, Swift Hawk, I must protest. I really think that you should follow this path now, not—”
He placed a finger over her lips. “Do not say more. My mind is made up on this. I will see you safely to Santa Fe.”
“Correction. You will see my brother safely to Santa Fe. If you go to seek this man, I will go with you.”
“No.”
“Yes. On this, my mind is made up. Where you go, I go.”
He shook his head. “You would only hinder me.”
“I will not hinder you. I will help you. You know this is so.”
He sighed. “We will not speak of this now. Once we escort your brother to Santa Fe, perhaps then we might discuss it again.”
“Certainly. Discuss it all you like. But I will go with you.”
He grinned at her. “You know that I could slip away from you without your knowledge.”
“I know. But I’d only set out after you and possibly get myself into trouble. You know this.”
He laughed, and turning toward her, he kissed her, pulling her hips in close to his. “And I would find you and take you back to Santa Fe.”
“But if you didn’t know when I had left, or where I had gone…”
Again he grinned. “Are you threatening me?”
“Certainly. I mean it. Where you go, I go.”
His smile faded, and by the look in his eyes, she was given to understand that the moment had become more serious. “Know this: I love you very much. And I am honored to have your love. Know, too, that I pledge to you that I will do what I can to earn your loyalty, that which you give so freely.”
She smiled, and taking a finger, she ran it gently over his chest. “Does that mean that you have changed your mind about taking me with you? You’ll do it without argument?”
He shook his head. “You are impossible,” he said, but he smiled. He also captured that finger. “I have not promised you that. We will talk of it later. But for now, I have other things on my mind.” He ran a hand over the curve of her hip.
“Oh? What sort of things were you thinking of, my husband?”
He kissed her again, his touch lingering over her buttocks, where he pulled her hips in so closely to his own. She was at once filled with the knowledge of exactly what this very exotic man had in mind.
She purred in response. “Oh, that sort of thing.” She smiled at him and returned his kisses, one for one. “I think that would be a fine thing. A very fine thing, indeed.”