My True and Tender Love by Jill Gregory

Author:Jill Gregory
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, western romance, western historical romance, bestselling western romance
Publisher: Jill Gregory

Chapter Thirteen

Spring came gently to the high plains.

The Cheyenne band headed by Two Bears had spent the winter upon the Llano Estacado, camped on the vast, frozen land over which Indians had roamed for centuries. When the breezes of spring began to waft across the plains, carrying with them the scent of buffalo, the warriors of the oktouna readied themselves for the hunt, and beneath the sharp eye of Swift-as-an-Elk, they set out in large groups to find and kill the buffalo.

When they returned with a good kill, there was much feasting and celebration. The women were constantly busy sun-drying and cooking and storing the meat. Using their fleshers and draw blades, they tanned the hides, then mixed a compound of liver, brains, soapweed, and grease to rub into the skins. After that the hides were soaked overnight and then softened by laborious use of a rawhide rope or buffalo shoulder blade.

The result was a soft, tanned hide, suitable for constructing a tipi or for making into garments. The Cheyenne women loved to decorate the skins with quills and beads and feathers. It was not only a skill, but an art.

Rider-in-the-Storm, under the tutelage of Antelope Woman, was fast becoming proficient at not only the tanning of the buffalo hide, but the adornment as well. The young woman who had once been silent and forlorn worked vigorously through the long winter and into the spring, and when the days began to lengthen and the earth to ripen once more beneath the golden sun, her energy reached new heights. She blossomed, even as the desert flowers bloomed upon the plains, and her dainty, graceful steps became as light as the song of the morning birds.

“Do you always sing as you do your work, Rider-in-the-Storm?” Two Bears’ voice broke into the soft humming of the woman before him one fine afternoon in May.

They were far out upon the prairie, and alone. In the distance they could see other women, scattered here and there upon the endless, rolling land, gathering their roots and seeds. Two Bears had approached her so silently that Bryony, intent upon her chore, had not even noticed. Now, she glanced up in surprise, a happy smile wreathing her face as she gazed at the proud, stoop-shouldered man who had grown so dear to her.

“Yes, Two Bears, when my heart is glad,” she replied, and her eyes glowed like green flames in the sunshine. Using her dibble, a short digging stick with a knob at one end, she worked loose some roots from the earth, then added them to her pile.

“Why is your heart glad today, Rider-in-the-Storm?”

“Why should it not be?” She laughed, and her long, black braids swung as she got to her feet, brushing the earth from her fringed deerskin skirt. “The sun shines like a golden halo, the sky is bluer than the sea, and the winds are warm upon my cheek and much softer than a feather.” She whirled happily, still clutching a handful of red turnips and thistle stalks.

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