Chapter 8 #2
But he didn’t pull her into its depths, as she had feared he might. Rather he bore with her as she let herself become gradually used to its coolness, seeming to her as if he had all the time in the world to spend with her.
She asked, “Are we safe here? I know you have spoken of the problem of our going into enemy territory. Are we there yet?”
“It is a good question. It shows your awareness of the environment, and this is good.”
“Well, thank you.”
He nodded. “We border the territory of my enemies, although once I passed down from the Minnetaree village, I have been treading more and more into enemy territory, thus the need to hurry to our shelter.”
“Then you have camped here before?”
“Hau, hau.”
“So we are safe here?”
“For the present. I have not sensed the presence of anyone close to our camp. And to be safe, while you slept, I set mantraps and holes all around our camping area as a precaution. I have also been out to hunt this morning—as you saw—and when I was searching for game, I found no recent signs of an enemy.”
She looked up at him, her gaze catching his. “This is good.”
“It is good. However, I am afraid there may be no one else to see such beauty as you are except myself and perhaps a stray buffalo bull that may wander into our camp, much to his demise. But do not worry, I do not think you would interest a buffalo bull overly much.”
“No, I suspect not.” She smiled.
“Come.” He led her farther into the water. “I will wash your back as I promised.”
She nodded and took a cautious step forward, sinking into the water almost to her waist.
He immediately drew her chemise down over her arms, and then off of her, doing the same with her drawers, tossing both articles of clothing toward the shore.
She heard his rapid intake of breath.
“What is wrong?” she asked.
“Hiya. Nothing is wrong. I admit I do not know the white man well, and before you, I had never seen a white woman. The rosy color of your breasts beckons me. I think I shall never tire of the sight.”
“I…I don’t imagine you will, because…” She sent him a speculative look.
“Because?”
She sighed, glancing around the little gully, their short-lived paradise. “Because our time together is short.” Then, out of pure curiosity, she added, “I don’t imagine you would consider coming to England with me, would you?”
His lips thinned, and his gaze danced off hers. “Must we talk about this now?”
“No, we don’t have to speak of it now, but…”
He brought up his hand to run the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “But?”
She bit her lip. “You must realize if you don’t come with me to England, or if I don’t stay here—which I cannot do—our time together is destined to end…very soon.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“But if you were to come with me…” She stared up at him as though, if she could, she would read his thoughts. Tentatively, ignoring the thought that even if he did come with her, theirs would be a difficult life, she asked, “Could you?”
“You know I cannot. I am charged with a task of extreme importance. In truth, all my actions, even here in our camp, must contain an element of some urgency.”
She pressed her lips together, looking away from him.
Though neither one wished it, it appeared now was the time for them to speak of this.
Fixing a finger under her chin, he drew her face around to his.
“Do not despair. It is said by even the wisest of the wise that we must sometimes lose those things we love most. What is important is not what is lost, but what we do with the time which we have now, no matter how brief it may be.”
“Yes. Yes, you are right, but…have you considered…? What if you were to finish your task before I leave?”
He shook his head, sighing. “For nineteen winters of my life I have fitted myself to complete this task. It has ruled my every thought, for it is of great consequence to my people. I have tried over and over again to accomplish what I must. Many battles have I engaged in. Many is the time, I have done to the enemy as I am told I must. But in all this time, I have not been able to conquer the problem my tribe faces.”
She bobbed her head absentmindedly. “I understand, I think. You are telling me it is doubtful you will finish this task before I leave. Is this true?”
“Hau.”
“Which means you will have to stay here.”
“Hau.”
She raised her chin. “If that be the case, then it does seem we are fated to part, my husband, for you must know I cannot stay here.”
Again, he nodded. “I have understood this from the first time you mentioned it to me. But now I must ask you something else.”
“Yes?”
“When the time comes when we must leave one another, I would ask you to throw me away.”
“What do you mean, throw you away?”
“In the Assiniboine camp, this is how a couple parts. She takes a stick. It represents her husband. She throws it away. This action rids both man and woman of their marriage, leaving each free to pursue other interests…or not.”
“I see. But what if I am unable to do it, or do not wish to? Couldn’t you do the same to me? Throw me away?”
“Hau. It is so. But I do not think I would ever do it.”