Brave Heart

“I look for Deer Woman,” he answered, halting nearby. Little Swallow looked rested this morning, and for that, he sent a prayer of thanks upward to Wakan Tanka, the Great Mystery.

“She is nearby.”

“I want her to care for Dawn Sky. Cante Tinza is awake and I must try to get her to speak with me.”

Little Swallow’s skilled hand hovered over the partially removed skin from the rabbit. “I have not heard her scream yet.”

“Yet,” Wolf muttered nervously. “I am sure she will. If she does, will you come and help? Deer Woman is going to be of little use to me in this matter.”

Smiling, she nodded, continuing to cut away the skin with sure, short strokes of the knife. “Of course I will. Leave Dawn Sky here. My oldest daughter will care for her until we see Deer Woman.”

Wolf hesitated, knowing that Little Swallow’s duties were many. He was torn between getting back to Serena and finding Deer Woman.

“Leave her, tiblo. She will be fine with us,” Little Swallow chided.

“Very well. I can see why no warrior would want Deer Woman. She acts childish and will not take a woman’s responsibility as she ought to.”

“Stop muttering, Wolf, and go back to your red-haired one. Do not give your power away to such a young woman who has yet to mature into her body.”

Wolf wiped his sweaty hands on his buckskin leggings as he walked back through the busy village. Everywhere he looked, the women were preparing skins, sewing or cooking. Most of the men, the hunters among them, had left hours ago to catch game. The children all played happily down by the river. Some of his nervousness abated as he allowed the peace that pervaded the village to be absorbed within his pounding heart.

Serena’s gaze moved to the entrance when she heard a scratching noise. Her eyes widened considerably when she saw the same warrior come inside. Hands tightening against the robe, she watched as he faced her. There were twenty feet between them. Twenty feet between assault or peace.

Wolf held out his hand to her. “Name Black Wolf. I not hurt you. Understand?”

For once, he wished mightily that he’d worked harder on perfecting his English with the traders who frequented the tribe throughout the summers of his youth. Tensing, he saw the fear and hatred return to her eyes. The silence hung heavily on his shoulders, and he now knew what real helplessness was as he waited those pregnant moments to see what she would do. He tried to prepare himself for her to scream once again.

Serena struggled to sit up. As the robe fell away to reveal the white cotton gown she wore, she stared down at it and then up at him. She wrestled with the harshness and cruelty that were a part of his features compared to the softness of his low voice. What could she believe? His sincerity of tone or his threatening male countenance? And who had undressed her and put her in this gown?

Wolf saw indecision and fear in her emerald eyes. Little Swallow had been right: he must switch to the wapiya side of himself, the one that enabled him to sense and feel. Sensitivity never led him wrong, and he consciously shifted to that compass called his heart. Making each movement slow, as he would with a wild horse to be tamed, Wolf eased back on his heels and crouched, his hand still extended.

“Suna?“ It was a pretty name, a melodic one, he thought.

Her eyes narrowed on his face. “How do you know my name?”

“My sister, Little Swallow. You spoke it to her last night.”

Already her arms were shaking from supporting her weight. Serena felt light-headed and even a little hungry. She sat up straighter, still unsure of him. “Stay away from me!”

Wincing at the anger and plea in her husky voice, Wolf froze. “You are safe here. I—no one will harm you.”

Sweet Mary, how she wanted to believe him! She saw the kindness in his wide, intelligent eyes but could not cling to that one piece of evidence. His mouth was generous, but pursed and thin. Kingston had thick, fleshy lips that always pouted when he was stalking her. Serena rasped, “I do not believe you!”

Grimly, Wolf glared at her, inwardly railing at her stubbornness. “I am Black Wolf. You live here. I want you well.“ He chastised himself for the clipped way his words came out.

His tone didn’t go unnoticed by Serena. She compressed her lips into a stubborn line. “If you so much as lay a hand on me, I’ll fight you until I’m dead. No man is ever going to touch me again! Do you hear me?“ she shrieked.

Wolf leaped to his feet and retreated, his chest heaving with anger and hurt. Stupid woman! Could she not see he was being kind and careful with her? He heard someone enter the tepee, breaking his dazed state. It was Deer Woman with his niece.

“What is wrong?“ she asked, looking quickly from Wolf to Serena.

“Everything!” Wolf roared at her. He stalked to the entrance. “Stay here for once and take care of things as you are supposed to do! I will return later.”

Stunned by his anger, Deer Woman stood holding the baby for a few moments after Wolf’s departure. She placed the cradleboard on his pallet and folded her hands in front of her, then walked over to the wasicun. She knew no English, but wanted somehow to speak with her.

Serena sat there, watching the young woman in a golden buckskin dress beaded on the bodice with brightly colored flowers. There was eagerness and excitement in her eyes as she approached her.

Smiling shyly, Deer Woman leaned down and dipped the wooden ladle into the bowl, offering her the water. “Mni,” Deer Woman said.

Serena stared at the bowl filled with clear water. She was thirsty.

Deer Woman repeated the Lakota word for water, sliding the bowl into Serena’s hands, which rested in her robed lap. “Mni.”

Nodding, Serena gave her a grateful look, shakily lifting the bowl to her cracked lips. The liquid spilled out both corners of her mouth as she gulped down the contents.

Deer Woman smiled encouragingly, taking the bowl and filling it again. “Mni,” she repeated.

Serena nodded. “Mni,” she whispered, taking the bowl.

A dazzling smile of triumph blossomed on Deer Woman’s mouth. “Han, mni.” Yes, water.

Her thirst sated, Serena sat there, looking around. She was in some kind of skin abode. It was large, circular and neatly kept. There was a central fire, from which smoke curled upward to a hole at the top. Fur robes of every imaginable kind covered the dirt floor. The fact that there were three pallets made her feel better. Was this woman the wife of Black Wolf? She must be, for she cared tenderly for the baby in the cradleboard.

Eager to help Serena, Deer Woman went to a skewer that held a cooked rabbit on it. She knelt down and offered the meat to Serena. “Yuta,” she urged. Eat. Making smacking sounds with her lips and pulling a piece of flesh from the rabbit, Deer Woman popped it into her mouth.

Yuta must mean eat, Serena surmised. She was famished and the rabbit looked inviting. Knowing she must regain her strength, she took the offered flesh from the woman. The meat was tender and juicy. Her jaw hurt, and so did her temple each time she chewed, but Serena ignored the pain.

Wolf entered the tepee. He glared at Deer Woman, who was kneeling at Serena’s side, feeding her.

“Look, Black Wolf, she eats!” Deer Woman announced proudly. Now he would be pleased with her.

Disgruntled, Wolf sat down, several dried roots in hand. “You finally decided to return to your duties,” he rasped. He spread one root across a large flat stone. Taking a larger stone that fit his hand, he exerted all his strength and began to crush and grind the root into a powder.

“I was down gathering fresh willow for a basket I intend to make,” Deer Woman whispered, hurt by his censure.

“Yes, and you left my niece behind. I have things to do, girl! I cannot tend Dawn Sky and this red-haired cougar plus all my other duties!” Wolf glanced up into Deer Woman’s wounded features. “I do not intend to have Little Swallow care for my niece just because you ignore your womanly duties. Next time, you take Dawn Sky with you.”

“But it is hard to watch her and hunt for willow,” Deer Woman whined. “You were all sleeping well when I left. I saw no reason to awaken your niece.”

Each grinding movement with the stone bled away some of his frustration and anger. Wolf glanced over at Cante Tinza. She’d stopped eating the moment he’d entered the tepee. Her eyes were shadowed, wary of his every moment. Curse the day he’d come upon her! And yet the urge to make contact with her as a woman, not as a frightened wild horse, was eating him alive. She hovered in every waking thought of his like fog lingering above a river. At night, he dreamed of her in his arms. In his arms, of all things! If anyone knew of his torrid dreams, they would poke fun at him. Only young braves were smitten thus. Not him. Not men of his age or of his importance to the tribe.

Serena saw tears gather in the woman’s eyes after the harsh words Black Wolf had hurled at her. She didn’t understand what they had said, only that he’d been sharp and wounding. It was easy to erect a wall of hatred toward him because of his treatment of his wife. He probably beat her, too. Just as Kingston had beaten her on numerous occasions. Yet Serena was mystified by how her heart reacted to the warrior. She remembered his songs of healing and how they had moved through her, assuaging her pain and fear. And she couldn’t ignore the liquid kindness burning in his eyes and the low, dark tone of his voice as he’d tried to establish peace between them.

“No more,” she told the woman. “Thank you.”

Deer Woman nodded shyly, taking the rabbit off the skewer and placing it in a nearby pot for stew that she would fix later. The red-haired one was tired, revealed by the darkness beneath each of her glorious green eyes.

“Asnikiya,” she coaxed, patting the robe.