Authors: Mary Adair
James studied the tall timber walls on either side of them as they moved slowly through the narrow gateway. He'd heard the forts of the frontier were patterned after the design of the Cherokee's walled villages. Above, standing guard along the tall wall, warriors watched over the coming and going of villagers and visitors.
Once all were through the gate he pulled back lightly on the reins and his large stallion halted. From his vantage spot he had a clear view of the village.
He saw the Peace Chief exit his lodge. Their eyes met briefly and James grinned as the other man looked away without a change in facial expression. His friend Dancing Cloud would not have shown surprise if he'd arrived in his village with a traveling circus, complete with clowns and dancing bears. Why would his expression be any different at seeing him dressed as a trader and riding double with Thomas?
As Dancing Cloud made his way in their direction, James let his gaze move from one detail of the village to another until his eyes focused on the straight, stiff back of a woman.
Something about her stance piqued his interest. Not one other person in the village stood with his back turned toward the new arrivals. In fact, the entire citizenship moved in their direction. Everyone...except her.
He tilted his head to one side and contemplated her behavior. She was doing nothing that he could discern. Just standing there, waiting. For him? His skin tingled.
Thomas must be right. ‘All the excitement has rattled my brain’, he told himself with a sudden snort and then patted Eagle's neck as the horse stepped nervously in response. The horse calmed easily enough. Relaxing himself was another matter.
His gaze followed the flow of ebony hair that ended at the small of her back, bringing attention to the curve of her hips beneath the short skirt. Long legs enticed him and ignited his imagination. Blood pounded through his veins and he forgot to breathe. He shifted uncomfortably and told himself to look away, but he could not. She turned.
New Moon's gaze went directly to his. The surge of power that slammed into her body felt like a solid wall rather than her own perception of his strength. She wanted to turn and walk away but she remained, held captive by his eyes.
A light breeze caught in her hair and whipped it gently from her face. She saw his longing in the tightness of his features. Unwanted warmth coiled in the pit of her stomach.
The same breeze molded the soft doeskin of her dress to her figure like a gentle caress. She watched as his gaze traced the outline of her body and then returned slowly to meet her own. Her mind rebelled against the sensations coursing through her. He was a white man...a No Thing! Yet, every fiber of her being shouted to her, ‘He is the one!’
The grin that tugged at the corners of his lips did not go unnoticed by her as her gaze raked over him from head to toe. Then, with a gesture known the world over, she tilted her head back, her nose into the air, turned and entered her lodge.
New Moon walked on trembling legs to her bed of furs and lowered herself to their blessed stability. She gasped for air that seemed suddenly too thin as the thundering rhythm of her heart pounded against her ribs.
His eyes were the clear shade of blue that graced a summer sky...the same shade of blue that enveloped her when her vision was upon her.
***
"James," Thomas hissed impatiently. "Get me down off this damn horse."
James frowned as he looked over his shoulder at Thomas, "I guess you're feeling better now." He answered half vexed. He looked around. "Where's Buffalo?"
"You worry too much about that kid. He's prob'ly makin' hisself acquainted with tha young folks," The older man shifted and twitched as he grumbled under his breath.
Wanting the old trader off his horse as much as the old trader wanted himself off, James wasted no more time. He swung one leg over Eagle's neck and slid smoothly to the ground.
He couldn't help but grumble a bit himself on the way down to the ground. "If you trained your mounts better, that scrawny animal you call a horse wouldn't have run off." He reached up to help Thomas slide clumsily from Eagle's back. "I'm not letting you ride double again. It's too much to ask of any horse."
Thomas puffed up like a game rooster in a standoff. He took a few awkward steps in a comical effort to readjust his britches while gripping his wounded shoulder. "Wouldn't a had to ride double in tha first place if that damn horse of yours would a let me up there without you."
"You would not have had to ride Eagle at all if you would have let me cut loose some of your precious goods from one of those broken-down old mules." James responded and then swore silently, regretting his remark the second it parted from his lips.
Once again he'd let the old man drag him into another childish argument. Maybe if he just ignored him, Thomas would find someone else to harass.
But Thomas wasn't through with James yet. "A couple a days alone with that beast and I'd have him trained proper. Just what do you have ta say about that, Mister ‘cut -my- packs-loose’?"
James hid a grin as he focused his attention on removing Eagle's saddle. He didn't bother to remind Thomas that, as partners, the goods in those packs belonged as much to him as they did to Thomas. He supposed, however, since Thomas was unaware of his identity or his mission, he should appear more interested in the post as a moneymaking operation.
If only his thoughts at the moment were not so monopolized by that woman. He chuckled softly. His father once told him his downfall would come callin' in a skirt. He bet his dear old Da had never seen legs like that exposed below a skirt. In his minds eye he re-experienced the vision of those legs.
His concentration broke when the big Indian who escorted them to the village took Thomas by the arm and spoke in a deep, curt voice, "Your wound bleeds. Come with me. Our medicine man will dress it."
Dancing Cloud stepped up and placed a hand on the proud warrior's shoulder. The man immediately turned to face his chief. "There were no whites among the renegades," the warrior said quietly.
The look of pain that fluttered across Cloud's face reflected in the warrior's eyes then was gone.
Thomas, oblivious to the unspoken emotions, bellowed over his shoulder at James as he was led away, "Just a couple of days, that's all it would take."
The large Indian placed a firm hand on Thomas’ back and pushed him into the medicine man's lodge.
Cloud turned to James. "Come with me to my lodge, Silent Deer will see to Thomas’ comfort. We have much to talk about."
The chief motioned and a young brave who must enjoy high standing among his peers stepped forward. "Runs Far, take our guest's horse and tend to him."
Runs Far anxiously snatched at the reins. James knew horses were still rare in the upper towns. Runs Far's status among the other young braves would be elevated by this chance to care for one of these strange and beautiful animals. James smiled down at the boy to let him know that he trusted him to care for his mount.
Just then Buffalo appeared as if from nowhere, a gleam of mischief lurking in his black eyes. This elicited a warning frown from James. Patting Eagle's neck he spoke in a hushed but serious tone, "You behave yourself, Buffalo." There was no doubt in his mind that the boy was up to something.
Until now the well-trained stallion had shown no real concern, even with all the unknown hands stretching out to touch his shiny coat. James knew his horse and as long as no one other than himself tried to mount Eagle, the stallion would remain as docile as a kitten. But now something about the boy holding his reins must have caught the horse's attention.
Eagle stuck his damp nose close to Runs Far and sniffed, obviously agitated.
James raised a brow, as he looked straight at Buffalo. His suspicions were confirmed as Buffalo fought to keep a straight face.
Then to Runs Far's surprise and with a suddenness that made every native jump in startled surprise, the proud beast blew his hot, wet breath directly into the boy's face. This brought a loud burst of laughter from the villagers.
Runs Far stood ramrod still as slick moisture dripped from his chin and a glaze of sheer terror shone from his charcoal-colored eyes.
Buffalo avoided looking directly at James as he magnanimously offered to take the crazy horse himself.
With a warning thump to the back of Buffalo's head James turned and followed Cloud into his lodge.
Cloud motioned for James to make himself comfortable against a cane backrest located in a far corner of the one large room. "Why are you here, my friend?" Cloud finally asked.
James raised a questioning brow as he glanced over to Cloud's wife and daughter who sat on a platform on the opposite side of the lodge.
Cloud understood and spoke to his family in Cherokee, "Smiling Face, take Sparrow and find some other chore to do outside."
James was surprised to see Cloud's wife lift her chin in defiance.
Cloud sighed heavily, not the least angered by her show of stubbornness. "Please," he said in English. A smile touched his lips evoking a playful grin from his mate.
James soon learned how she came by her name. As her lips spread across her face, her eyes twinkled and an otherwise solemn expression took on a beauty and vibrancy all its own.
With an exaggerated look of defeat Cloud explained in English, "After my trip to England I made the mistake of telling my wife about the word please, and how the white man made a great show of asking their women. Now I am no longer chief in my own lodge."
James worked to keep his own face immobile. "I see."
"Good. I plan for us to talk more about this thing later."
Smiling Face rose gracefully and gathered her things, but Sparrow was not ready to leave. She wanted to get a closer look at the white man. With the comical mixture of boldness and curiosity only children possess she walked directly up to James.
He winked.
The beautiful child with round, tawny cheeks and eyes as black as night giggled in response. She reached out and touched a finger to James' chin. He knew Sparrow had never seen short prickly hairs on the faces of the village warriors.
James sat very still while she ran her tiny finger along his cheek. "Are you the one?" She asked boldly in Cherokee.
Smiling Face turned with a start at the sound of her daughter's voice. Her disbelief that her husband would allow their daughter to behave with such lack of respect to their guest reflected plainly in her eyes.
Dancing Cloud himself had taught James the language, yet James wondered if he'd heard her correctly. "The one? I don't know. Do you want me to be?" He asked gently.
Sparrows glanced over her shoulder at her father and then back to James. A smile very much like her mother's widened across her face and brightened her eyes. "Yes," she answered simply.
This tiny girl with her knowing eyes tugged mightily at his heartstrings. Her spunk and mischief reminded him of the children in his beloved Ireland. "Then I'll do me best ta give ye yer heart's desire, lass," he answered her in his native brogue that, even now after so many years away, came easily to his lips.
Smiling Face frowned, uneasy at the strange sounding words while Sparrow giggled as if in total understanding. Smiling Face took her daughter by the hand and drew her quickly outside.
James watched as they passed through the doorway. "You have a beautiful family, Cloud."
Cloud hid the laughter that rumbled in his heart. "Yes, I do," he agreed happily. "And the boy you brought with you. Is he your son?"
James turned back to Cloud and adjusted his weight against the backrest. "No, but he's a fine lad. I brought him with me from the post. His name is Buffalo."
"Ha, I remember Buffalo. I remember his mother as well." There was a flicker of regret in the kind eyes. "It has been a long time since I have been to the post. Buffalo has grown into a fine looking young brave."
With a tone of approval the chief added, "It is good that you have taken the responsibility of his manhood. His mother has no family to train him. This act of kindness will impress my people much."
James watched as Cloud reached down to pick up his pipe and loaded it with tobacco. There was no way Cloud could know of James' mission. Yet he hit James' intention of situating himself within the village right on the head. Even so, his bringing Buffalo along had nothing to do with it. He'd felt sorry for the boy, and felt it would do him good to get away from the post for a while.
Both men sat quietly while Cloud packed down the leaves then drew slowly from the long stem as he touched a burning twig to the carved bowl. With lungs full of the aromatic smoke he tilted his head back and blew three short puffs upward to float in the air above them.
Cloud passed the peace offering to James. "I have heard of the Englishman who paid off all of Thomas’ and George's debt at the trading post and then rode out to live two summers with the Choctaw. Tell me, Robin, why has your heart led you here?''
James laughed. "It is good to hear my friend call me by my old name." He held the carved bowl in his hand and drew deeply from the stem. The smoking ceremony was the first one Cloud taught him years ago when he and a handful of other Indians came to England to visit the king.