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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1783455-Stealing-May-part-3
Rated: 13+ · Other · Western · #1783455
continued from part 2
“It’s okay to mourn, Bear.  It’s okay to be angry or sad when someone dies.”
Red Bird came into view and stood in front of them.  She spoke quietly to Bear, who shook his head.  Instinctively, Jake reached out and put an arm around Bear’s shoulders.  He didn’t pull away.  “It’s going to be all right, Bear.”Tears formed in Red Bird’s eyes, but she pushed them away.  “We must leave this place,” she advised.  “We can not carry this sickness away with us.”
Jake nodded.  “Come on, Bear.  Let’s go.”  He pulled the grieving boy along as they went to get as far away from the lifeless village as possible.

Red Bird was surprised, back at camp, to see how the ground had been scorched.
“The wind spread the fire,” Jake explained.  “That’s how we knew something wasn’t right.”
“I am glad you came to find me.”
Jake decided against telling her that Bear had been willing to leave him to fight the flames alone in order to find her.  He looked across the blackened grasses and noticed the deer meat, surprisingly undisturbed.  He told Red Bird that they had gotten it while hunting.  She was quite relieved, and went to work starting a new fire and cooking the meat for their dinner.
Bear sat unblinking nearby.  Red Bird called to him, telling him to come and eat, but he didn’t move.  Determined, she took some of the meat and sat at Bear’s side.  She offered him the food, but he looked away.  She said nothing, reaching out to rest her hand on his shoulder. 
Jake left the fire and joined them.  “Were they your family?” He asked. 
“No,” Red Bird replied. “But they were Cheyenne.  Honiahaka’s tribe.” 
“Did you know them?”  Jake asked.
“Yes.  Very well.”
“I’m sorry for what happened to them.”
“You did not cause this.”
“Maybe not, but white people brought this here.”
She didn’t argue.  She turned her attention back to Bear.  “Nahkohe, please eat.”
“No food.”
Jake          was disheartened.  “I don’t blame you for hating me, Bear.”
Bear looked up at him, and shook his head slowly. 
“He doesn’t hate you,” Red Bird told Jake.
“How do you know that?”  He asked.
She paused, thinking.  “Nahkohe told me he let you use his bow.”
Jake nodded.  “He did.”
“He say you made a good shot.  That you killed the deer.”
“Well, I had a good teacher.”
Bear’s sorrow welled back up to the surface, and he swallowed hard.  Red Bird took his arm, tilting her head toward the far side of the warm, snapping fire. Gently leading him aside, she sat him down and brought him one of the blankets, only slightly reacting to its scorched condition.  She draped it across Bear’s legs.  He lay down and she sat beside him, smoothing his hair as she quietly spoke to him. 
Jake felt like an unwelcome intruder on this intimate scene, and he turned away.

Dusk had settled when Red Bird came to sit close by Jake’s side.
“How is Bear?”  He asked her.
“He sleeps now.”
“He’s taking this really hard, isn’t he?”
“He is young, but he knows much sorrow.”
Jake nodded silently.
As the sun began to set, the sky slowly deepened into a vivid purple, streaked with orange.  The mountains in the distance were large black shapes that seemed to be floating on the surface of the not-too-distant lake.
“It’s so beautiful out here,” Jake said quietly. 
“You think so?”
“Yes.  The land is so . . . unpredictable, untamed, wild even.”
“This land is my home.  We take care of the land, and it gives back to us.”
Jake sat quietly for a moment.  “I was just thinking. . . The land is like you, May.”
“Like me?”
“Yes.  You are all of those things to me, you know.  Even from the first day I saw you, I wanted to know all about you.”
“But I spit at you.”
“I know why you did.  I don’t blame you.”
“I wanted you to die.  I wanted Ho’honaa’e to come back.”
Jake nodded.  “But . . . what about now?  You don’t hate me now.”
“No.  Of course not.”
Jake had to ask her.  He had to know.  “How do you feel about me?”
She didn’t answer.  The fact that she was once again avoiding the subject angered Jake.  Maybe he was delusional, thinking there could ever be anything between them.  He stood and walked a few steps away.
“Are we getting close to where your family is staying?”
“Yes.  Very close.”
“Good.  Then this whole crazy ordeal will be over soon.”

Leaving the relative safety of the camp, Jake followed Red Bird’s direction as she guided him toward her village.  They soon approached a steep section of land bordering a small outcropping of rock.  “This is it?”  He asked.
“Yes,” she told him.  “My people make our home on the other side.”
They left the wagon behind, joining Bear to go the rest of the way on foot.
“May?”  Jake asked. 
“What is it?”
“I just want you to know that, though I wish it had been for a different reason, I’m glad to have met you.”
She nodded.  “Thank .”
They reached the top of the rise, and Jake looked out at the land before him.  It was empty.  Bear strode down the sloping hillside and stopped several feet away.  He turned and looked back, an expression of complete dismay on his face.
“What’s wrong?”  Jake asked.  “Where are they?”
Red Bird slowly sunk to her knees.  “They are gone,” she murmured.
“Are you sure this is the right place?”
She nodded, not looking back at him.
Jake knelt by her side, resting his hand on her back.  Tears filled her eyes.
“Don’t give up, May.  We’ll find them.  Please don’t cry.”
Bear looked around, perplexed.
“Why would they leave?”  Jake asked.
Red Bird wiped at a runaway tear.  “Winter comes,” she said.  “We leave this place during winter.”
“Do you think they might have gone up river?”
“They may have.”
Jake took her hand.  “Well, let’s keep going, then,” he suggested.  “Let’s not sit here wasting any more daylight.”  He helped her to her feet.
They had traveled only a short distance upriver when Red Bird spoke next.
“Jake, stop.”
“Stop?  Why?”
She shook her head.  “We go many places for winter.  I do not know where to look.”
“So they could be anywhere?”
She nodded.  “We will not find them.” 
“What should we do?”
“The cold is coming,” Red Bird replied.  “You need shelter.  Build your cabin.”
Jake pulled back on the reins, bringing the wagon to a halt.  “So that’s it, then?”  He asked.  “Just give up?  Stop looking?”
“We come back in spring.  We will find them then.  I wonder if . . . If we can stay with you?”
“Stay with me?  For the winter?”
“If you do not mind us.”
Jake laughed.  “If you don’t mind staying with a white man, would be more like it.  If . . . he would want to stay . . .”
Red Bird glanced toward Bear, who stood several feet away, where he had been looking for any sign of tracks indicating that anyone had come this way.  She shrugged.  “No other place to go.”
Jake knew she was right.  The cold weather could be on them without warning. They needed shelter, and soon.  That was that.

Jake was hard at work digging a large square pit, a good four feet deep all the way across.  This would form the ground work for a rough log cabin.  The farther down he dug, the fewer trees he would need to cut and position to make the cabin a decent height.
Red Bird worked at his side, doing anything she could to be of help.  Bear remained aloof, as he had since being told they would stay with Jake for the winter.  He was constantly going off to hunt, or simply disappearing into the woods.  Nearly a week had passed, and Jake noticed that Red Bird’s hands were getting just as blistered as his own.
“You don’t have to do this, May,” he had told her early on.  “The work might be too hard for you.”
She had only smiled.  “I know hard work,” she replied. 
She looked over her shoulder now, and saw Bear crouching at the base of a tree, watching them.  “Nahkohe, help us.”
He stood up straight, crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head defiantly.  Red Bird walked over to him.
“Nahkohe?”
“You build house for white man,” he told her in English, intending that Jake know what he said.  His voice was snide.  “You become white.  You forget your people.”
Anger flared up in Red Bird’s eyes, and she slapped him—hard.
Jake heard the sound reverberate through the trees, and he flinched.  Bear’s expression had quickly turned from disgust to one of complete shock.  His eyesskipped from Red Bird to Jake and back again.
“You will help us,” she demanded.
Without further prodding, Bear picked up Jake’s axe and went to work on the base of a nearby tree.

The log dwelling was nearing completion when, one particular morning, Red Bird stopping what she was doing and stared into the distance.
“What’s wrong?”  Jake asked.
“Someone is coming.”
“Horses?”
“A wagon.”
Jake heard it, rattling familiarly across the uneven terrain.  “I think you should get out of sight, both of you.  Just until we see where we stand.”
Red Bird agreed, grabbing Bear’s arm to take him with her.  He protested.  “Not afraid,” he told her.  “I not run to hide.”
Jake stepped in.  “I know you’re not afraid, Bear, but I’m asking you to do this.  We don’t know who those people are.  We don’t know if they’ll cause trouble for us.  Please, Bear.  You won’t be hiding.  You’ll be helping.”
Red Bird tugged at Bear’s arm.  “Come.  Please.”
The boy relented and the two Cheyenne disappeared from sight.
The wagon soon came into view, and Jake could make out a man and woman riding up front, with two young children in the back.  Jake stepped forward to greet them.
The man stopped his horse.
“Hello there,” Jake called out.
“Hello,” came the reply.  “You must be a newcomer to these parts.  Can’t say as I’ve seen you before.”
“Yes sir, I’m just getting settled for the winter.  I hope I’m not on anyone’s land.”
“No, this land is unclaimed still.  You’re welcome to it.  We have our homestead two miles upriver.  The name’s Lawson Perry.  This is my wife, Olivia, and our kids, Caleb and Elizabeth.”
Jake shook hands with him.  “Jake Watson.”
“Glad to meet you.”
The children watched him silently.
“Say hello to your new neighbor, children,” Olivia encouraged them.
“Hello,” Caleb replied politely.
“Hello, Mister Jake.”  The girl’s hair hung in copper curls around her freckled face.
Jake smiled.  “Hello to you, Miss Elizabeth.”
She smiled, revealing a missing tooth.
“Do you have everything you’ll be needing, Mr. Watson?”  Olivia asked. 
“Yes Ma’am, mostly, but we are going to need a wood stove, to stay warm this winter.”
“We?”  Lawson asked.
“Do you have your family here with you?”  Olivia joined in.
Jake caught himself.  “Friends,” he finally answered.  “Just some friends.”  He smiled disarmingly.
“Well,” Mrs. Perry replied, “you’ll all just have to come on out to our place for supper real soon.”
“Thank you, ma’am.  That would be nice.”  He paused, then looked at Mr. Perry.  “Can I ask a question?”
“Sure can,” Lawson answered.
“Have you had any trouble with Indians out here lately?”
“No sir, no trouble at all.  It’s a right good place you’ve come to.”
Jake had to know more.  “What’s . . . Uh . . . What’s your opinion of them?  The Indians, I mean?”
Mr. Perry glanced at his wife.  “Well, as we’ve had little contact with them, I can’t rightly say.  But I reckon they deserve just as much of a fair chance to prove themselves as anybody.”
“Glad to hear you say that.”
The man nodded.  “It’s good to meet you, Jake Watson.  Hope you’ll consider us your neighbors.”
“I will, thank you.”
“We’d best be getting on.  We’ve got business to tend to in Wheatland.”
“How far is Wheatland from here?”
“Well, we should have no trouble getting there and back by nightfall.”
“That’s a relief to know.  Thank you again.”
“I hope we’ll be seeing you again soon,” Mrs. Perry told him as they pulled away.
“Yes ma’am,” Jake replied. “Goodbye to you all.”
“Goodbye, Mister Jake,” the girl’s soft voice called out.
Jake grinned.  “Goodbye, Miss Elizabeth.”

The air was quickly turning cold.  One icy day, Red Bird seemed particularly worried about Bear, who had again wandered off.
Jake questioned her about it, about why he spent so much time alone.  The boy had yet to even set foot inside the completed house.
“He longs for Ho’honaa’e,” she answered.
Jake took a deep breath.  “Do you miss him?”
“I do.  I miss my people, my family.”
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about your father?”
She smiled.  “He is called Falling Star, from the story.”
Jake’s interest was piqued.  “What story?”
“A Cheyenne legend.”
“Will you tell me?”
She looked around, as though she feared someone might be listening.  She smiled to herself.  “It is always my favorite story, even when I was young.  It is about. . . A brave warrior.  He was the son of a Cheyenne woman and the bright star.”
“A star?”
“The brightest star.  The child was raised by meadowlarks.  When he had grown, he returned to his people to find they could get no water.  He had to kill the water monster so the people could drink.  Then there was the . . .”
She stopped,          unsure for a moment if she should continue.  “The white crow, which frightened away all of the buffalo, and the people could not hunt.”
“The white crow?”
Red Bird nodded.  “Yes.  White crow.  Falling Star had to catch the white crow and take him back to the chief. The chief killed the white crow, and the people could kill many buffalo and have enough meat.  The Cheyenne were very thankful.  They gave Falling Star a wife and a home among their people, and he stayed with them all his life.” 
Jake thought about the legend, and what it must mean to her.  “Is your father brave, like Falling Star in the story?”
“Yes.”
The image of a white crow stuck in Jake’s mind.  “White people scare away the buffalo,” he said.
Red Bird nodded.  “They destroy the herds.”  She suddenly grew quiet, folding her arms across her chest. 
“Is something wrong?” Jake asked her.
She sighed.  “This is the dancing time.”
“Dancing?”
She nodded.  “My people dance at end of the day.”
Jake smiled.  “You enjoy it?”
“Very much.”
“Do you think they’ll dance tonight?” He asked softly.
“I do not know.  If they think I am lost . . . And Nahkohe . . . and Ho’honaa’e. . .”
“They might not be in the mood for dancing,” Jake finished her thought.
She shook her head.
“Do they only dance when they’re happy?”
“We dance for many reasons.”
“Do you dance together?  A man and a woman, I mean?”
She looked at him.
“I can dance a little,” he continued.  “I’m sure it’s not the same as Cheyenne dances, but if you’d like, I can teach you what I know.”
She seemed puzzled.
“Never mind,” Jake muttered, feeling foolish.
“Yes, teach me,” Red Bird finally replied.
Jake looked at her again.  “Really?”
“Yes.”
“All right.”  Jake wiped his hands on the front of his shirt. He stood directly in front of her.  “Hold my hand,” he told her, holding his palm open toward her.
She stood staring at him, unsure.
“It’s only for fun.”
Slowly, she slipped her slender bronze hand into Jake’s large, rough one.
“That’s right,” he told her.  “Now put your other hand here.”  He gestured toward his shoulder.  “Good.  Now, I put my hand at your waist—like this.”
Jake wondered if she would pull away at his touch, but she stood her ground.
“Right.  When I step back, you step forward, and when I step forward, you step back.  Do you understand?  Your feet follow mine.”
She nodded.  “I think so.”
“We’ll start slow.  Ready? Right, together.  Left, together.  Right, together.  Left, together, and turn.  You’ve got it? Again.”
Jake moved his feet in a steady rhythm, and Red Bird tried to keep up.  He took her through the motions several more times until he felt like she was more at ease. 
“That’s good.  Ready to go a little faster?”
“I can try.”
“Just be light on your feet!”
Jake led her through the dance, stepping and turning in loose circles.  Red Bird started to smile.
“Now you spin this way,” Jake instructed, holding her hand and trying to turn her.  “No, that’s not quite it.”
“Try again!”
“This way.”
Jake turned her once more, then pulled her back toward him.  She stumbled over her feet and fell against him.  Red Bird laughed, and the sound was delightful to Jake’s ears.  He held onto her until she regained her balance.   
“Steady now?”
She looked up at him, smiling.  “Yes.”
Her eyes locked with Jake’s, and he found that he couldn’t turn away.  He was trapped in those deep, dark eyes that seemed to be searching his very heart. 
Red Bird stepped back a little, pushing her long braid off of her shoulder. 
“Your dance is much fun.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“You dance like this much?”
“I haven’t in quite a while, actually.  Thank you.  You make a good partner.”
Her smile faded, and she grew thoughtful.  “You have special woman?”  She asked.
Jake smiled, shaking his head.  “No.  No, I don’t.  Not now.”
“But you once did?”
He looked away, toward the distant mountains.  “Yes.  Or at least I thought I did.”
“What happened?”
“I guess she just decided I wasn’t the one for her.”  He shrugged.  “I guess she didn’t love me enough to stay.”  He turned and walked back to the cabin, sitting on the front step.  Red Bird followed, standing close by. 
“You loved her?”  She asked.
Jake looked up.  “Yes.  I did.  But that was a long time ago.  It doesn’t matter now.”
Red Bird sat down beside him.  “I am . . . I am glad to stay here with you, Jake.”
“That’s good, May.  I’m glad you’re here too.”
“This is nice place for your home.”
“It is,” Jake agreed.  “When I look out at the land from here, I can imagine what it could look like.”  He pointed.  “With the cabin here, there is plenty of land for a herd of cattle.  I can picture all of it!  A vegetable garden on the left, the cattle to the right.  Eventually I could even plant some crops, wheat maybe.”
Once again, he felt excited about the possibilities.  He smiled at Red Bird, but her face was solemn.  “What’s wrong?”  Jake asked. 
She shook her head.  “Nothing.  I am glad you have your plans coming true.”
Jake rested his hand on hers.  “You could be a part of them, you know.” 
Red Bird looked into his eyes.  Jake moved closer to her.  “I would like it if you stayed.”
“Ma’evekeso!”  Bear’s voice burst upon them.  He stood several yards away, having just returned with a small bundle of rabbits and squirrels he’d killed.
“Nahkohe!”  Red Bird called out in surprise, getting to her feet. 
Bear dropped the bundle on the ground.  “I bring you meat,” he told them, angered at having seen them so close.
Jake tried to explain.  “This wasn’t really anything, Bear, I just . . .”
Without a word, the boy turned and left.

Night was falling fast, and the light from Bear’s small fire was easily visible.  Red Bird, always concerned for the boy, started toward it, but Jake stopped her.  “Let me talk to him.”
“He does not want to follow white man’s ways,” she protested.
“I know, but maybe I can get through to him a little.  Just maybe.”
“Yes.  Please try.”
With a nod, Jake turned and made his way toward the orange glow of firelight.  Bear sat close to the flames, his knees tucked up to his chest.  He didn’t look up. 
Jake cleared his throat.  “Bear, why don’t you come inside with us?  The cabin’s warm and dry, and there’s room enough for the three of us.”
The boy shook his head, a slight movement that was barely noticeable. 
Jake sat down across from him.  “Well, I have to admit this is a nice fire you’ve got here.”  Bear avoided making eye contact. 
“You know,” Jake continued, “I don’t think I ever thanked you for teaching me to shoot your bow.  Or for staying to help me put out that fire.”
Bear glanced up at him, moving only his eyes.
“So, I’m saying thank you.”
“I will not come,” Bear told him firmly.
Jake was losing his patience.  “You know something, Bear?  Red Bird wanted to come out here and get you.  She wanted to try and make you come in.  But I told her that I wanted to talk to you.  I’m not going to force you, Bear.  I just wish you would give me as much of a chance as I’ve been willing to give you.”  He stood and walked away.
Bear did not come into the cabin that night.  Jake was surprised, however, when door creaked open two nights later.  He and Red Bird sat at the rough-cut table, comfortable in the warmth from the newly acquired wood stove.  They watched as Bear stood in the doorway and looked around hesitantly. 
“Nahkohe?”  Red Bird asked.
“Too cold,” he replied.
Red Bird gave Jake a satisfied smile before she rose to her feet.  She retrieved a blanket from one of the makeshift beds and wrapped it around Bear, pulling him farther inside.  She sat him down at the table while Jake filled a cup for him. 
“Here,” he told the boy.  “Have some coffee.  It’ll warm you up.”
Bear sniffed at it, then took a sip.  He made a face, but held onto the mug, glad for the warmth it brought to his fingers.  He studied his surroundings, noticing that there were three sleeping places arranged along the back wall.  He looked at Jake, an unspoken question in his eyes.
“Yes, Bear,” Jake replied.  “One of them is for you.  You’re welcome here.”
He took another drink of the bitter coffee, then spoke quietly. 
“Thank you.”
The afternoon was frigid.  Jake’s breath billowed in short puffs before him as he attacked the firewood with his axe.  He worked in a steady rhythm to keep from freezing.  Place the wood, swing.  Place the wood, swing.  He was so intently focused on the task at hand that he was surprised when the Lawson’s wagon pulled up—he hadn’t heard them coming. 
Elizabeth scurried over the side and hurried toward him.
“Hey, Mister Jake!  We brought you some apple butter!”  She stopped short, staring past Jake at the cabin.  He turned around and saw Bear standing in the open doorway, watching them.  Jake looked back at the Perrys, and knew from their faces that they had all seen him.
“Well, I guess it’s time you met my friends.  This is Bear,” Jake introduced, motioning for him to come over. 
“Is he an Indian?”  Elizabeth asked innocently.
“Yes, he is,” Jake replied, looking up at Lawson.  “He’s from the Cheyenne tribe.  So is Red Bird.”
“Red Bird?”  Olivia asked.
Jake nodded.  Bear now stood at Jake’s side, and Red Bird was just coming out of the cabin.
“Two Indians?”  Caleb asked.  Olivia held him close.
Elizabeth looked at Bear, her eyes wide and curious.  She stepped closer.  Olivia started to tell her no, but Lawson hushed her.  The little girl touched Bear’s deerskin shirt, then his hand. 
“His fingers are rough like yours, Papa.”
Lawson smiled at his daughter.  She turned back to Bear.  “Do you like apple butter?”  She asked.  “My Mama made it.  I think it’s real good.”
“You’re more than welcome to stay for a visit,” Jake told the Perrys.  “If you still want to.”
Lawson looked at his wife for approval.  She nodded, smiling faintly.
“Well,” Mr. Perry answered Jake, “I reckon it isn’t polite to leave without meeting your new neighbors.  All of them.”
Caleb turned toward his mother.  “But Mama—” he began.
“Hush, Caleb,” Olivia cut him short, gently pushing him toward the cabin.  “Don’t be rude.”
Once in out of the cold, coats removed, Lawson tipped his hat politely toward Red Bird.  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” he told her.  She smiled.  When Mr. Perry moved to shake hands with Bear, Jake tensed.  He was sure that the boy considered the visit an unwelcome one.  With a quick glance at Red Bird, Bear reached out warily.  Lawson gave him a firm handshake, and Bear managed to look him in the eye. 
Jake let out his breath.  He mentally scolded himself for being overly anxious. 
The evening passed well, better than Jake could have hoped.  Olivia and Red Bird alike were glad for the company of another woman.  Lawson talked on, mainly about how the land took to farming.  He was completely as ease, considering himself in the company of equals, not savages, not by any means.
Elizabeth was completely taken with Bear, and tried several times to encourage her brother out of his aloofness.  Caleb seemed almost as reluctant as Bear had been at first, and only slightly relaxed as the time passed. 
The young girl seemed to have broken through to a soft place in Bear’s heart.  He didn’t seem to mind all of the attention she paid him. 
Jake noticed that Elizabeth was eyeing Ho’honaa’e feather, still tied onto Bear’s shirt.  She reached out and ran her hand along its smooth, flat surface.
“Is this from an eagle?”  She asked. 
Jake and Red Bird exchanged a worried glance. 
Bear was silent a moment—a long moment—before answering.  “Yes.  Belong to brother.”
“Where is your brother?”
The change in Bear’s eyes made Lawson speak up.  “I think you’ve asked your new friend enough questions for one night,” he told his daughter.
“Yes, Papa,” Elizabeth muttered, bowing her head.
“In fact,” Mr. Perry continued, “I think we’d all better be heading home, or we’ll wear out our welcome on our first visit.”
“It’s no trouble,” Jake assured him.
“Just the same, it is getting a tad late.  Thank you for inviting us in.”
Jake shook his hand.  “Thank you for coming.”
The Perrys said their goodbyes, Olivia giving Red Bird a quick embrace.  “We’ll come again,” she told her.
“Yes,” Red Bird agreed.  “I would be very glad.”
“Goodbye, Bear,” Elizabeth said, hugging him around the waist.  The young man was momentarily stunned by this display of affection. 
“Hair like fire,” he muttered, running his hand along her curls. 
The girl was all smiled as Olivia led her from the cabin. 
Jake saw his neighbors back to their wagon and waved as they went out of sight.  Red Bird stood alone outside the cabin door.
“Where is Bear?”  Jake asked her.
“There,” she replied, pointing a short distance away.
“What’s he doing?”
“I think he is confused.  He fights with himself.”
“Should I go talk to him?”
“You can try.”
“Right.  I won’t be long.” 
The sound of Jake’s approaching footsteps took Bear by surprise.  When he turned toward him, his eyes were wet with unshed tears.
“What’s wrong, Bear?”  Jake asked him.  “I thought things went well tonight.  Elizabeth really likes you.”
Bear sniffed and turned away.
“You enjoyed her too, didn’t you?”  Jake pressed. 
“Please leave.”
Jake thought a moment.  “Is it because you miss your family?  Seeing the Perrys made you realize how much you miss them.  That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Please leave!”
“I know you’re still hurt about what happened to your brother.  You need to let yourself grieve for him.  You can’t keep burying the pain.”
“Go away!” Bear shouted, turning toward Jake.  “You know nothing!” 
Jake stepped closer.  “I’m not leaving.”
Bear pushed him, and Jake grabbed hold of his arms.  “I’m not leaving,” he repeated.  “You have to let him go, Bear.  Let your bother go.”
“No! No!”  He pounded his fists against Jake’s chest, but he held him tightly.  He wasn’t going to let Bear walk away.  Not this time.
“Let go of your anger.  You have to let it go.  All of it.”
He tried to jerk free.  Jake pulled him closer.  “Stop, Bear!  Stop trying to bury your feelings.  Stop running away from people.  Just stop, Bear.  Just stop.”
He continued to resist for a moment, then slumped against Jake and wept, his shoulders shaking.  Jake wrapped his arms around him.  “I know.  It’s okay.”
“Ho’honaa’e gone, gone!”  Bear cried out.  O’komeha’e, Kopehe.  All gone. We fight, we die.  We run, we die.  No rest.  No rest, never.”  Bear continued sobbing, releasing sorrow and anger that had been building for years. 
“It’s going to be okay,” Jake told him.  “It’s going to be okay.”

Bear had fallen into an exhausted sleep.  Jake and Red Bird sat in wooden chairs near the welcome heat from the wood stove, talking quietly.
“It was good to visit with the Perry family today.  It’s nice to know there are friendly folks nearby.”
Red Bird nodded.  “Nice people.”
“I noticed that you and Olivia got along well.  You could become good friends.”
“Winter will pass,” she pointed out.  “Nahkohe and I will not stay long.”
Jake sat in silence.  Of course, he knew they would want to get back to their tribe.  As much as he cared for Red Bird, however, he had begun to dread the thought of passing the time without her.
“Something troubles you?”  She asked.
“Don’t you know, May?” Jake leaned forward in his seat.  “I don’t reallywant you to leave.  I don’t want to have you out of my life.”
She shook her head.  “You want your farm.  You want crops.  You want cattle.”
“I would like to have those things, that’s true,” Jake agreed.  “But there’s only one thing that I really want.”  He reached out and gently touched her cheek.  “That’s you.”
“You do not know me.”
“I know that you’re a strong, brave woman. I know that you care very much about others.  And . . . that you are very beautiful.”
“Am I?”
“Of course you are.  Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?  What about . . .”
“Ho’honaa’e?”
“Yes.  Didn’t he ever tell you how beautiful you are?”
She shrugged slightly.
“How were things between the two of you?”  Jake pressed.  “You said that your father told you to marry him.  That you could have grown to love him.  How did he feel about you?”
“He was good to me.”
“But did he want you to be his wife? Did he love you?”
“Why are you asking these things?”
“Because you deserve to be with someone who loves you.  Because . . . Because I’m falling in love with you, May.”
She          blinked, caught off guard.  “You say my father should not tell me who to marry.  In your ways, how is it done?”
“When two people want to get married?”
“Yes.”
“Well . . . The man usually just asks the woman he loves if she will be his wife.”
“And she tells him yes or no?”
“That’s right.”
“If. . . if she says yes?”
“Well, then the man would go to her father and ask him for permission to marry her.”
Red Bird was quiet for a moment.  “Do you want to ask me?”
“If I did, would you say yes?”
Again, she blinked.  “Would you always want me?”
“What would make me change my mind?”
“Nahkohe is right.  I am Cheyenne.  You are Ve’ho’e.  You will want a white woman.”
“You’re no less a woman than they are.”
She looked away.  Jake reached out, gently turning her face toward his.
“Tell me that you don’t care anything about me, and I’ll let you go.”
She stared down at her slender hands, nervously fingering the fringe on her dress.
Bear stirred in his sleep, turning onto his back.  Red Bird looked over at  him.  “It is late,” she said.  “I should let you sleep.”
She rose and started toward her bed.  Jake reached out and caught her hand as she passed him.
“Will you at least think about what I said?”  He asked.
She paused, staring into his eyes.  “I will.”
Jake knew that would have to be good enough—for now.  “Good night then, Red Bird.”
“Good night, Jake.”

The next morning, Jake woke up to the sight of Red Bird and Bear sitting at the table, sipping steaming mugs of coffee.  He rubbed his face and ran his hand through his tousled hair, sitting at the edge of the bed a moment before pulling on his thick winter shirt. 
As he took the empty seat, Red Bird poured him his coffee.  “Thanks,” he told her, still groggy. 
Bear watched him as he drank, a strange look in his eyes.
“What is it?”  Jake asked him. 
The boy turned to Red Bird and spoke to her in Cheyenne.  Her eyes grew wide, and she questioned him, looking at him curiously.  He spoke briefly to her, and she turned away, trying to hide a smile.  Jake saw her. 
“What is this?”  He asked.  “What are you two hiding from me?”
“You sleep late, white man.”  Bear pointed to the side of his head, then at Jake. 
“My head?”  He reached up, and could feel that some of his hair had been cut short, just above his ear.  “What the . . . Bear, did you do this?”
Without a word, Bear reached down and picked up a good-sized piece of Jake’s missing hair, letting it fall to the floor. 
At Jake’s surprised expression, Bear smiled playfully. 
Red Bird laughed.  “He counts coup,” she explained.
“But . . . I’m not your enemy . . .” Jake began.
“No,” Bear replied.  “Not enemy.  But I get you.”
Jake laughed and shook his head.  “Now you’d better watch your back, young man.  Turnabout is fair play!”
Bear pointed at Jake, speaking in Cheyenne.  Red Bird shook her head, laughing softly. 
“What’s funny?”
“Nahkohe says that then you will wear eagle feather . . . If you have hair to tie it in!”
Jake laughed now, watching Bear’s face.  “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me, a ve’ho’e.”
Bear shook his head.  “You are not ve’ho’e.  You are m’ahahe.”
“M’ahahe?”
Red Bird smiled fondly at Bear, then looked over at Jake.  “It means friend.”

The winter did pass, slowly at times, quickly at others.  New growth began to appear on the pines, a bright, fresh green.  Bear left early one morning to hunt, something neither he nor Jake had done for some time.  It had been too long since they had last eaten any meat.
Wildflowers had begun to break through the soil, peeking out all over the ground around the cabin.  Jake paused in his work to watch Red Bird as she gathered some in her hands, lifting them to her face, enjoying their sweet fragrance.
Jake cast a brief glance around.  There was no sign of Bear. 
He made his way slowly to Red Bird’s side.  She smiled.  “Many bright colors,” she said, indicating the freshly picked blossoms.  Jake nodded, but he only had eyes for her.  He gently touched her arm.  “They are nice.”  He took one of the flowers between his fingers, brushing her cheek with it.  “But I’d rather look at you.”
She looked down, embarrassed.  Jake lifted her chin, leaning forward until his lips met hers.  He kissed her softly, and when she didn’t pull away, he kissed her again, more firmly.  He had longed for this moment.  To be so close to her, to touch her, to feel the warmth of her body against his own. 
“I love you,” he breathed, pressing his face into her hair.  He took in the smell of it.  “Say it, May,” he whispered, brushing his lips against her neck, against the side of her face.  “Tell me you love me.”
She could feel his breath on her cheek, warm and soft.  She could feel his arms around her, holding her close.  She allowed him to kiss her, again and again, but said nothing.
Jake pulled himself back just enough to see her face.  She had closed her eyes tightly, as if by blocking him from view, she could deny the existence of any feelings she might have for him.
“You won’t tell me?”  He asked hoarsely.
“No,” she replied in a whisper.  “I leave soon.”
“Why won’t you tell me that you love me?  I know that you do, May.  I know you do.”
She swallowed, her eyes still shut.  “I can’t.”
Jake stepped back, letting his solitary flower fall to the ground.  “You can’t,” he repeated.  “That’s it.  You just can’t.”  He sighed deeply.  “You’re right.  Winter’s over.  Your people should be back by now, shouldn’t they?”
“Yes.”
“All right, then.  I guess it’s time I took you back to them.”  He stepped forward abruptly, giving her one last, long, passionate kiss.  “We can leave tomorrow.”

And leave they did.  Bear received the news stoically.  They took the wagon, the three of them riding together—Jake and Red Bird seated at the front, with Bear riding just behind them.  They traveled in silence until suddenly, Red Bird reached out and grabbed the reins.  “Jake!”
He pulled the team to a stop.  “What?  Do you see something?”
She pointed, and Jake could see three figures standing on the riverbank. 
Indians.
“Are they Cheyenne?”
“Too far away.”
Jake felt the weight of Bear’s hand on his shoulder as he stood to get a better view.  “Too far,” he agreed.
Leaving the wagon, they went forward on foot, peering from behind the cover of thick bushes.  Red Bird leaned forward.  “Look, there, the woman.  It is Hoxeha’e!”
“Who is she?”
“A good friend.”
“Are they from your family, from your tribe?”
“Yes!  We have found them!”
She looked at him, smiling.  Jake smiled briefly, then stood and looked out at the river.  Red Bird rose to her feet.
Jake took a deep breath.  “You’re home now.  We’ve come a long way to bring you back.  There’s no going back now.”
Bear motioned to Jake.  “You come, M’ahahe.”
Red Bird’s face betrayed her fears about how her people would take the news of Ho’honaa’e’s death, and how they would react to meeting Jake.  He felt the same way.  “Are you sure I should go with you?”  He asked Bear.
“Come.  Please?”
Jake was honored that the boy wanted him to come along.  He tried to ignore his misgivings about being led into a potentially dangerous situation.  Maybe he would have the chance to explain things to Falling Star.
As they made their way toward the full, rushing water, the young Indian woman stood and saw them.  She called out to the man standing nearby, and he shaded his eyes from the sun to get a better view.  Behind them, the third Cheyenne stared in their direction.
Red Bird shouted out, calling their names.  Jake could see, from their short distance away, when the woman smiled.  “Ma’evekeso!”  She started forward, but stopped when the man close to her spoke a warning. 
Bear spoke up then.  “He is M’ahahe!”  He took hold of Jake’s arm.  “We bring M’ahahe.”
The men remained suspicious, and rightly so, Jake thought.  Hoxeha’e seemed more at ease, giving Red Bird a long embrace.  She smiled in Bear’s direction, then nodded politely at Jake. 
The taller of the two men narrowed his eyes.  “Ho’honaa’e,” he said.  “Tosa’e ehoo’e?”
Red Bird glanced nervously at Jake, answering the man in her native tongue. 
“Come,” she told Jake.  “I will speak with my chief.”
Many of the members of the Cheyenne tribe stood still throughout the village, staring at Jake, alarmed at his presence.  One man hurried away, only to return momentarily, accompanied by an older man, who stood straight and boldly as he walked.
“He is Viho,” Red Bird told Jake quietly.  “He is our chief.”
Jake swallowed nervously.
The chief spoke, and Red Bird answered.  A small group had gathered close to listen.  As Red Bird gave her people an explanation of the last few months’ events, Jake recognized only one word—Ho’honaa’e.
One of the women gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.  Several of the others reacted in anger or dismay.  Their chief held up his hands, and everyone went silent.  He gave a command.
Red Bird looked at Jake.  “He wants to speak with me, and with my father, alone.”
Jake glanced around in apprehension.  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Nahkohe will stay with you.”
Jake looked at Bear, and he nodded.
Jake watched sullenly as Red Bird left amid a throng of her people.  Bear stood close by, his arms crossed over his chest, a look in his eyes that warned everyone to let Jake alone. 
As time passed and no one came to threaten his life, Jake began to ease up.  He sat with his back to the nearest teepee.  “Will they be talking for a long while?”  He asked Bear. 
The young man looked down at him, a soft breeze blowing the large eagle feather tied in his hair.  “Talk until Viho finished.”  He gave Jake a half smile.
Jake nodded.  “Of course.”
A small group of children ran through the village, laughing.  They stopped when they saw Jake.  They stared openly at him, curious.  Jake waved at them.
One of the young girl stepped closer.  She reached out and tentatively pushed back on the brim of Jake’s hat until she could see his hair.  She looked back at the other children, smiling.
“E’heo’vo,” she told them.  They seemed to loose some of their fear then, moving in to get a closer look at him. 
Jake laughed, feeling uncomfortable at all the attention.  The children eagerly touched his hair, his clothes.  Looking at the girl who had first approached him, he reached out and touched her dark braid.  She giggled. 
Bear watched the scene unfold before him for a moment.  “Taasestse!”  He commanded then, waving the kids away.  They scattered, talking excitedly about the strange white man, Jake was sure.  Bear came up and sat next to Jake.  “You much glad here,” he said, tilting his head toward the village.
Jake looked around.  All through the encampment, Cheyenne people went about their business, some talking, some working.  Everything was bathed in golden evening sunlight.  It was beautiful. 
I am,” he told Bear.  “It’s peaceful here.”
“Glad you come.  Glad you see my people.”
“So am I.”
“You stay long?”
“I don’t know, Bear.  I don’t know if I should.”
“Ma’evekeso see you.”  No, that was the wrong word.  Bear shook his head.  “She watch you.”
“She’s watching me?”
“Long time.  Many days.”
Jake blinked, surprised at Bear’s remark.  “Has she been?”
“She want you.”
© Copyright 2011 Ladybug96 (elliesauntie96 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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