Frontier Courtship Part 15

"I keep breaking a commandment and I can't help myself."

"I find that hard to believe." There was growing mirth in his eyes, in the lopsided quirk of his mouth.

"Don't make fun of me."

When he came closer and laid his hands lightly on her shoulders, Faith felt his controlled strength, the warmth of his palms, and imagined that he caressed the strip of bare skin where her Cheyenne dress had left the curve of one shoulder exposed.

Surely, he couldn't have done so. Connell loved Irene. They were still promised to each other. Faith looked up into his smoky-colored eyes and saw them glistening.

"I would never make fun of you," he said earnestly, quietly. "Never."

At that moment, if he had asked her what sin she was battling, she could not have kept from confessing her covetousness. To her relief, he didn't press for an explanation.

Instead, he said, "I'm sure G.o.d understands what's in your heart, Faith. You want do the right thing. But you're human. We all make mistakes. G.o.d's grace and forgiveness take care of that."

"Only if we repent and stop doing the same thing over and over," she said in a hushed voice.

Connell drew her into his embrace. "It'll be all right. You'll see. You'll feel much better when you're back with Charity and we find your father."

The moment he'd pulled her close, Faith's arms had slipped around his waist as naturally as if they'd done the same thing a thousand times.

Clinging to Connell, drawing on his strength, she listened to his heart pound in unison with her own racing pulse. Truth to tell, if he hadn't brought up her estranged family she wouldn't have thought of them at all. Not now. Now when she was so dizzy with excitement, so taken with his nearness, that there was no room in her consciousness for anybody or anything but him.

Could she love love him? she wondered in awe. Was that what these turbulent feelings were? him? she wondered in awe. Was that what these turbulent feelings were?

Why not? her conscience answered. Of course she cared for Hawk. It was perfectly normal to be grateful for all he'd done and all he'd promised to do when they finally got to California. She'd be lost without him, both literally and figuratively, and when the time eventually came to part, she was going to miss him terribly. The thought of never seeing him again brought unshed tears. her conscience answered. Of course she cared for Hawk. It was perfectly normal to be grateful for all he'd done and all he'd promised to do when they finally got to California. She'd be lost without him, both literally and figuratively, and when the time eventually came to part, she was going to miss him terribly. The thought of never seeing him again brought unshed tears.

Long minutes pa.s.sed in silence. When he finally did ease his hold on her, Faith was reluctant to let go.

Connell once again grasped her shoulders, but this time it was to put her away from himself and say, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"I didn't mind. Really."

"Still, it was wrong. It won't happen again."

The fact that he was obviously determined to keep that vow was underscored by the squaring of his shoulders, the jut of his chin.

Faith's pride reared up and took control of her tongue before she could stop it. "Fine. Don't touch me. Don't even act like my friend if it pains you so. Just get me out of this horrible camp, point me toward California and forget about me. I can look after myself."

Taken aback, Connell scowled down at her. "Who put the burr under your saddle?"

To her utter dismay her lower lip began to quiver. "n.o.body. Go away. Leave me alone."

Instead, he reached out and gently cupped her cheek. "I won't desert you, even if you try to get rid of me. Don't cry."

"I'm not crying," she insisted.

His large thumb intercepted a tear on her cheek and whisked it away. Then, with a hoa.r.s.e groan he once again pulled her close. Holding her as if he never intended to let go, he laid his cheek against her hair and murmured, "I'll keep you safe, Little Dove. I swear it."

Touched by his sincerity and warmed all the way to her soul, Faith was about to answer when he whispered one more thing just before he broke away and strode quickly from the lodge.

She couldn't be certain, but she thought he'd said, "Even from myself."

Chapter Thirteen.

Faith didn't see Connell again until evening. The day had seemed endless. Bored, lonely and growing more fidgety by the hour, she'd thought of offering to help the Cheyenne women with their ch.o.r.es. If they'd seemed more amiable when she'd approached them she might have tried.

Some of the young warriors, however, were a different story. They'd acted much too too friendly when she'd left the meeting lodge and started to walk back across the encampment toward Irene's teepee. Rather than stir up more trouble, Faith had decided to be discreet and had reversed direction, determined to stay out of sight until Connell called for her. friendly when she'd left the meeting lodge and started to walk back across the encampment toward Irene's teepee. Rather than stir up more trouble, Faith had decided to be discreet and had reversed direction, determined to stay out of sight until Connell called for her.

Several shy little girls had peeked in at her by getting down on their knees and peering under the raised outer edges of the teepee. Then they'd run away giggling when Faith had tried to talk to them. Other than that, and the occasional pa.s.sage of a rangy dog, she'd remained totally isolated for the rest of the day.

Shadows lengthened. A cooling breeze wafted beneath the vented skirts of the teepee, bringing Faith welcome respite from the stifling heat. Outside, the camp was coming alive. People called to each other, women sang, children shouted, and somewhere not far-off somebody was playing a flute.

The sound of pa.s.sing hoofbeats drew her to the door. She moved the edge of the flap just enough to see out. Several mounted Cheyenne were driving fresh horses into the circle and exchanging them for ones that had been staked in front of various teepees during the day. The men rode in such harmony with their horses it was as if they and the animal were a single ent.i.ty. Little wonder the U.S. Cavalry had found the Plains Indians to be such formidable foes.

Though weary from relentless pacing, Faith couldn't force herself to rest. She'd been almost ready to throw caution to the winds and make a mad dash for Irene's when Connell finally appeared. He ducked inside and let the door flap fall closed.

"Oh, thank goodness! I thought everyone had forgotten me," she said, hurrying toward him.

His raised hand stopped her. "Simmer down. I just came to check on you and tell you to stay put. I'll send for you later. When it's safe."

"Safe? Here? How can any of us be safe in this camp? You should have seen the way those Indians leered at me when I tried to go find Irene!"

"You went out? By yourself?" He muttered an unintelligible expletive. "No wonder."

Faith was sorry he was upset, but she wasn't willing to accept the blame for his foul mood. "You never told me to stay inside," she argued. "As a matter of fact, you didn't bother to tell me anything before you went off and left me. What was I supposed to do? Sit here and twiddle my thumbs all day?"

"It would have been preferable to attracting attention. Have you looked outside our door lately?"

"I watched a herd of horses go by about half an hour ago," she said with a scowl and a glance past his shoulder. "Why? What's out there now?"

"A Cheyenne with a flute. Didn't you hear him playing?"

"I heard some unusual music. Is that important?"

"To him it is. The flute and the special tune come from a medicine man. Hearing it is supposed to make you fall in love with whoever plays it."

"Me?" Eyes wide, she gaped at Connell. "That Indian expects me to fall in love with him?"

"He sure does."

"Oh, dear. What should I do?"

"Well, for starters, don't get close enough for him to throw his blanket over you. If you do, he'll take it as a sign you're willing to be courted."

"You mean like Red Deer and Irene?" The moment the words were out of her mouth, Faith rued them, wished she could call them back, but the damage had been done.

She saw Connell's jaw clench, his spine grow rigid. "No," he said. "Like Red Deer and Singing Sun Woman."

"Who's that?"

"That's the name the Arapaho gave Irene. After tonight she'll become Irene Wellman again and Singing Sun Woman will cease to exist."

Faith wasn't so sure. It seemed inconceivable that Irene could just forget the past year and go back to being the same person she'd been before coming to live with the Indians. A lot more had changed than just her name. And speaking of her name...

"I can see why they'd think the watch was singing, but how did they come up with the sun part?" Faith asked.

"The pocket watch has a gold case. Maybe it looked like the sun to them."

"That makes sense." Puzzled, she thought of the few descriptive Indian names she knew. "What about Walks With Tree? Did they call him that because he was born crippled and needed a wooden crutch?"

"Probably not. Children aren't given permanent names when they're little. Sometimes they do something special to earn their adult name. Other times they'll be presented a name as a gift. An older warrior may admire a younger man and give away his own good name as a kind of blessing."

"Wouldn't that get confusing? Two people would have the same name?"

"It doesn't work like that. Once a name is given away it's treated like any other gift. The one who had the name before chooses a different new one for himself."

"Gracious. I'd be totally befuddled."

"Not if you were used to it."

"I will never get used to all this," she said, sweeping her arm in an arc that took in the whole teepee. "How much longer must we stay here?"

"We'll leave tomorrow," he said. Then he smiled slightly and added, "Unless you go wandering again and get yourself engaged to be married before morning."

When the same girl who had brought her clothes and food the previous evening returned, Faith was so glad to see a familiar face she felt like hugging her. How she wished the young woman spoke English so she could properly thank her for her kindness. Still, she reasoned, there were some emotions that lent themselves well to pantomime, graciousness being one of them.

Faith grinned as she reached for the girl's hand and said, "I'm so glad to see you again." Genuine tears of thanksgiving misted her vision. "I'm going to be leaving soon. I want to thank you for letting me wear your beautiful dress."

The girl tried to pull away. Faith resisted. "Don't be frightened. I want to be your friend." A barely perceptible hesitation on the girl's part encouraged her. "That's right. Friend," Faith repeated.

She let go to use both hands for gesturing, sweeping her hands from herself to the other and back again while continuing to nod and smile. "Friends. You and me. Good friends. Yes?"

The girl finally nodded.

Faith was thrilled to have spanned their language barrier, however minimally. She pointed to her own chest and said, "Little Dove Woman," then gestured toward her companion, eyebrows raised questioningly.

The Cheyenne said something in her own language, then translated it. In English it became, "Spotted Fawn Woman."

Feeling like a teacher who had just broken through to a difficult student, Faith could tell her companion was as proud of their progress as she was. Encouraged, she caught up folds of her soft deerskin dress as if about to curtsy and tried again to make herself understood. "My dress? Where is my dress?"

Spotted Fawn shook her head and took a cautious step backward.

"It's okay," Faith cajoled. "Don't go. You can give it to me later."

Again came the shake of the girl's head, this time a lot more insistently and accompanied by a wave of her hands.

Faith frowned. "What's wrong? I don't know what you're trying to tell me."

Whirling, the young Cheyenne made a dash for the door, only to be stopped by running into Connell's broad chest with a dull thump.

He caught her neatly. Held her fast. His gaze shot to where Faith stood. "What's going on?"

"I don't know. I thought we were becoming friends, then she suddenly got upset and tried to run away."

He spoke calmly to the girl. Her answer made him smile. "She thinks you want your old dress back."

"I do." Faith continued to scowl. "I'll need it to wear when we leave here."

"That's not how this works," he explained carefully. "Spotted Fawn Woman offered you the best she had. When you accepted it, you agreed to a trade."

"She wants my old calico? It's a mess."

"Is it the best you had?"

"It's all all I had," Faith said. I had," Faith said.

"Then she's happy with it. If you insist on trading back you'll be insulting her skill. She made what you're wearing with her own hands. It probably took months of her spare time just to do the beadwork."

"Tell her it's the most beautiful thing I've ever owned and I wouldn't dream of parting with it." Faith spoke to Connell, but her tender regard rested on the Indian girl. "I'll treasure it always. And please say I wish I had something better, something prettier to give to her besides my old dress."

Watching closely, Faith could tell when he'd conveyed the full message because Spotted Fawn's expression softened and her winning smile returned.

"You do have one other thing," Connell reminded her. "The quilt."

For an instant Faith's heart rebelled. Then she got control of her selfish desire to keep her grandmother's handiwork and nodded at Connell. "You're right. That will be perfect. I'll get it."

Lovingly displaying the quilt in her outstretched arms, Faith presented it to the younger woman. "Tell her I want her to have it," she said sincerely. "To go with the dress."

He spoke, then said, "She wants to give you something else in return."

"No. This outfit is already an unfair trade. We don't know what's ahead for us. Anything could happen. I'd like to know my grandmother's quilt is safe and treasured, as it should be."

Tears sprang to Spotted Fawn's eyes when Connell translated the presentation of the gift. That emotional reaction was all the thanks, all the confirmation, Faith wanted or needed.

It was wonderful to be so positive she was doing the right thing for a change. She knew there was a time, not long ago, when she would have clung to her last possession, seeing it as the most important element in her life. Yet, now that she'd been stripped of every concrete tie to her past, she felt liberated.

Faith's eyes also filled with unshed tears when the girl accepted the quilt and clasped it close to her heart as if it were the most precious gift she'd ever received. Giving it was certainly the most rewarding thing Faith had ever done.