Sundancer's Woman by Judith E. French

Author:Judith E. French [French, Judith E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2013-10-21T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

“Sweet Water?”

A male voice just outside the wall of the wigwam startled Elizabeth out of sleep. Heart thudding, she sat up and listened intently to see if she’d really heard a stranger speak only inches from her head or if she’d been dreaming.

“I must speak to Sweet Water.” This time the stranger used English.

Elizabeth called softly to her friend. “Sweet Water.”

Moccasin Flower had left, and three other women had joined them in the four days she’d spent confined in the lodge. During that time, they’d passed the hours by talking, playing a game that resembled dice with pieces of colored bone, and singing old story-chants that related the history of the tribe. Often, Sweet Water read passages aloud from her Bible to the others. The younger adolescents took turns brushing each others’ hair and arranging their tresses in different styles.

Like the Seneca, these Shawnee women had keen senses of humor. Often the jokes they exchanged were bawdy, but their jests were never cruel or malicious.

Elizabeth felt that she’d made a friend in Sweet Water, although neither had revealed much about her personal life. Elizabeth had been uncomfortable relating her story to the Shawnee woman, so she’d merely said that her son was still a captive of the Seneca, omitting the fact that Jamie was Yellow Drum’s son as well. She hadn’t told her that she and Hunt were more than traveling companions either.

When Sweet Water didn’t answer, Elizabeth crept to her side and gently shook her. “Someone is calling for you,” she murmured.

“Who is it?” Sweet Water asked.

“This man would speak with his wife,” came the urgent whisper from the far side of the wall.

“Go to the entrance flap,” Sweet Water replied. She put a finger to her lips. “Shh. We thank you. Now go back to sleep and pretend he was never here,” she said to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth returned to her bed and pulled the blanket over her, but she was wide awake. She turned her back to give Sweet Water what privacy she could, but it was impossible not to hear and understand her conversation with her husband.

“There is a thing you must know, heart of my heart,” Fire Talon whispered in English.

“Does this matter concern the white woman’s child?”

For a moment, Talon didn’t answer. Elizabeth caught her breath and waited. She knew it was wrong to listen, but she strained to hear what Talon would say.

“Husband?” Sweet Water murmured.

“Weeshob-izzi Kimmiwun,” he murmured in the beautiful language of the Shawnee, then said her name in English. Sweet Water. “Ki-te-hi.” My heart.

“Ma-tah!” No. “You’ll not soft-talk me, not this time. I’ll not have you risk your life for strangers.”

He made a tiny noise that could have been a sigh. “Once this man promised he would find your brother, but I failed you.”

“No, Talon, I won’t listen to this,” she protested. “Colin is dead. He’s been dead for fourteen years.”

“Do not speak his name,” Fire Talon reminded her. “Ghosts of the dead may be lured back across the river by—”

“By calling their names.

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