Chapter 15
IT was late afternoon of the fourth day that Chase had been on the trail. He had never thought he would have to come this far. He had stopped at Ft. Laramie, spending a night there, and had been directed to White Thunder’s village. He knew this would be the right place. It had to be. There was no other settlement nearby.
The village looked peaceful enough in the late afternoon sun. Children were playing. He could see women working, men gathered in groups. There were many horses tethered by the tepees, meat hung up to dry, skins spread out for tanning. It seemed a prosperous village, and tranquil. He crouched near a creek, watching. Could this be where she was?
His question was answered immediately, when he moved a little way down the creek to where an overgrowth of shrubbery and trees blocked the village from view. He had meant to hide there, but he stopped when he saw a woman bathing in the creek. She was naked to her waist, and she wore an Indian breechcloth. Chase moved closer to the bank, leading his horse carefully. He was far enough away that she couldn’t see him.
He forgot about the village, forgot everything as he watched her bathing. It was Jessie. He was sure of it. Her hair was loose and clinging to her wetly. Lord, she was beautiful, a goddess kissed by the sun. Her breasts were much fuller than he remembered, unencumbered by a shirt. They stood high and proud above her tiny waist and gently swelling hips. Chase was mesmerized. Why was she so special, so lovely?
His musings came to a sharp halt when he saw that Jessie was speaking to someone. Then he saw the Indian. He was sitting, with his back against a gnarled tree. The Indian wasn’t facing Jessie, but he turned to look at her when she spoke to him.
Chase was furious. A man was watching Jessie bathe! It was a shame his fury overcame him, because he lost all awareness of his surroundings. Black Bear Hunter, White Thunder’s older brother, was moving slowly toward the white stranger. From his position, he could not see Jessie or White Thunder, the man who was talking to her. It appeared only that the white stranger was spying on his village. Black Bear Hunter approached Chase ever so cautiously.
Jessie managed to put Little Hawk from her mind as she let the cold creek water trickle over her body. She and White Thunder had often taken baths together when they were younger, but Wide River Woman had put a stop to that when Jessie’s body began developing curves.
White Thunder still accompanied her, however, to protect her.
It was really because of Black Bear Hunter that White Thunder was there. He was the only one in the village who had never tolerated Jessie’s visits. Twice the brothers had argued over her. And several times Black Bear Hunter had come upon Jessie alone and frightened her terribly.
She had not seen Black Bear Hunter last year, or during this visit. She knew he had recently taken a wife and had his own tepee. She wondered if he was perhaps less severe now.
Jessie broached the question to White Thunder, calling over her shoulder, “Does your brother still hate me?”
White Thunder was so surprised by the question that he forgot himself and turned to look at her. “But he has never hated you.”
“Of course he has.”
White Thunder turned away quickly. It had been a long time since he had seen her without clothes. His face heated. It had happened before, and he was furious with himself whenever it happened. He could not bear what he sometimes felt for her. They were friends. He would not jeopardize that.
“Did you hear me, White Thunder?”
“Yes,” he called back without looking at her. “But you are wrong in mistaking what he feels for hate.”
“But you know how he’s always been,” Jessie reminded him.
“He did not like it that you came here, but only because you were white like my father, the one who took Wide River Woman away from her first husband, Black Bear Hunter’s father. He lost his father because of that, and he bears a grudge against whites, all of them.”
“But I was a child. I was blameless.”
“He knew that. He even came to regret his treatment of you, but it was too late by then.”
“Why? I would have understood.”
“Yes, but would you have understood all the reasons for his change? You see, he found himself wanting you.”
She was surprised, and a little disbelieving. “He had a funny way of showing it,” she scoffed.
“Because you are white. Because he could not permit himself to want a white woman. He took pains never to let you know. He was harsh because it was not easy to conceal what he felt for you.”
“But how do you know this, White Thunder?” Jessie asked. “Did he tell you?”
“No. I just know.”
“Well, you could be wrong, couldn’t you?”
“I doubt it. But would you prefer to go on thinking he hates you, when that is not true?”
“Yes, I would.” She was quite serious. “It is rather disconcerting to suddenly find I am wanted by so many men. I am not used to it, and I don’t understand it. It is not as if I am a vision of beauty, you know.
I’m usually sweaty and dusty from work, and dressed in pants. Why, Little Hawk didn’t even see me in a dress until today. Yet he and Chase—”
“So that is the name of the other one?” White Thunder interrupted.
“We will not discuss him,” Jessie said stonily. “Just tell me, is Black Bear Hunter happy with his wife? Can I expect less hostility from him now?”
“He is happy, but how he will feel about you I cannot say.”
“Where is he?”
“He went hunting, and he should return any time. In fact—” White Thunder stood up, his expression alert. “I believe that is his victory cry. You hear it?”
“Yes. You go ahead, White Thunder. I’m almost finished.”
“You are sure?”
“Yes. Little Hawk will be inspecting Black Bear Hunter’s prize, so he won’t bother me, and I’m not worried about anyone else. Go on.”
Jessie finished washing her hair. She didn’t hurry. As much as she had on her mind, she wasn’t curious about Black Bear Hunter’s prize. She would hear of it later, she was sure.
Imagine Black Bear Hunter wanting her, too! She shook her head, bemused. It was all so strange, the different aspects of wanting. Blue had wanted her. Little Hawk wanted her. Chase had wanted her, but only for the one time. And Black Bear Hunter fought his desire, continually hostile because he wanted her. In all of that, where was love? Rachel had only pretended to love Thomas, and what Thomas had felt couldn’t be called love, for it had turned to hate. In books, real love was bountiful, but Jessie had never seen two married people display the kind of love she had read about. Was there really any such thing as love?
A little while later, dressed, her hair still wet but braided in two neat plaits, Jessie turned toward the narrow path leading up to the camp. Little Hawk stood there, blocking her way, standing with his feet slightly apart, his arms crossed over the wide expanse of his chest. He had removed his ceremonial shirt and his leggings, and was wearing only his breechcloth and moccasins.
Jessie managed to hide her surprise. She stared levelly at him.
“If you are finished, I will walk you back,” Little Hawk offered.
“So now you will speak English?”
“When it is only the two of us, it is necessary,” he replied with a shrug. Then he said abruptly, “You should not be here without the gun you carry on your hip.”
“It wasn’t needed. I wasn’t alone until just before you came. You did just come, didn’t you?”
“If I say yes, will it make you happy?”
“What kind of answer is that?” Jessie snapped.
“You would rather hear that I came while you were still drying yourself?”