"We have to do something Frank," Mamma's voice drifted up to me in the dark. I had finally been persuaded to return to bed although I could not sleep. My parents thought me sleeping, or they would not be speaking about me now. Without moving, I just listened.
"What can we do Jenny?" Frank's tone was frustrated, worried. "If she won't tell us what happened, there ain't a blasted thing we can do."
"I have never seen her so hurt, or so sad...I just can't understand it." Mamma's chair scraped softly as she got up, a second later the gentle clink of dishes sounding in the sink.
"She's been seein' that Indian boy, Wind Runner," Frank started softly. "Maybe somethin' happened-"
"Frank!" Mamma instantly hushed her outcry. "Goodness, Frank, you don't think he tried to hurt her?"
"No, not intentionally." I heard his boots quietly echo on the floorboards as he paced. "You know how she feels about the Sioux, Jenny...maybe it's time to talk to her about where she's headed. Jaynie ain't a little girl anymore."
"I can't stand the thought," Mamma paced too, her voice tight. "I don't want her living with them!"
"It's going to be her choice, honey," Frank soothed. "In the end, what we say ain't gonna matter. She's going to decide for herself."
"She's my baby, Frank..." I heard Mamma's voice catch as she held back tears. "Can't she just stay here?"
"That won't be enough for her, you know that. She's gonna want to grow up, get out on her own, marry...who around here would have her? Maybe the Sioux ain't such a bad option if it makes her happy."
"If only she'd talk to us!" I could picture Mamma in mind, her face buried in her hands, Frank putting his arms around her.
"Can't force her Jenny...only be willing to listen when she does."
"Do you really think she'll marry that Indian?" Mamma's voice broke a long silence, and I felt my muscles twitch as I strained to hear.
"She might honey," Frank's honest answer pleased me, although I was not certain of the answer myself. "I can't rightly think of anyone else- well, Jaynie has a way of surprisin' a body."
"What do you mean?" I tried not to resent the amount of hope in my mother's voice. "Do you know something you're not sharing, Frank?"
"Toby Whitney spends a bit of time watchin' her, and they went for a ride together."
"They just met!"
"So had we, when you married me," Frank reminded her. "I don't think we regret it."
"Of course not, but Frank...Toby Whitney? Is he right for our daughter?"
"Who can say?" I could almost see Frank's shrug. "Only Butterfly knows the answer to that."
"She was so heartbroken," Mamma's voice turned thoughtful. "Almost like when Napayshni died, remember? She cried as though she'd lost a part of herself- oh!"
At her sudden cry I sat up, silently. Mamma was nestled in Frank's arms, staring into his eyes.
"How could I not have seen it? Jaynie was heartbroken! What if that Indian boy asked her to go back with him, and she said no? Maybe they quarreled, and that's why she's so upset!"
I felt a shudder of resentment at Mamma's insightful words. She appeared much too pleased at the idea to make me happy with her. Frank just gazed at her, thinking.
"Could be...but honey, don't go countin' your eggs 'til this is said and done. Plenty of young couples fight before workin' it out."
"Don't call them that," Mamma's mouth curled a little. "They're not courting, Frank."
"Ain't they?" her husband chided her gently. "For a Sioux brave, the only thing left to declare his intentions is to leave a string of ponies hitched to the post outside. Don't fool yourself Jenny. Her heart has always been with them."
Mamma was about to answer him when the floorboards beneath me creaked, and my parents looked up. Our eyes met in the darkness, and held. For a long moment no one moved, then I stiffly turned my back on them and lay down. From below me I heard a soft oath from Frank, and Mamma's hushed rebuke. Soon after I heard them go into their bedroom and close the door. It was nearing dawn when I heard the lonely call of a coyote drift to me on the wind. Rolling over, tucking my blanket securely beneath my chin, I ignored the pleading summons.
Rose woke to my open eyes and affectionate gaze. Her cheeks were pink from sleep, the vibrant green of her eyes sparkling. Small hands reached out to touch my face, tracing over my chin and nose.
"You okay now Sissy?"
"Yes." It was a complete lie, and I felt guilty for saying it but Rose was innocent still, and had no need for the weight lying over my heart.
"You gonna walk me to school?"
"Going to...and yes, don't I always?" We sat up, pushing the covers off. Rose nodded, chewing on the end of one of her long braids. I shooed her from the loft so I could pull the bedding off for washing, then tossed it over the edge to the floor below. Pulling a shawl over my shoulders, I climbed down the ladder finding Mamma and Frank up. They both regarded me silently. It was a tense moment of unease then Mamma smiled.
"Morning girls. Wash up quickly, you're nearly late for school, Rose."
"Yes ma'am!" My sister loved water and ran from the house, the creaking sound of the water pump furiously in action indicating her compliance. I quietly gathered up the bedding and carried them outside, hanging the sheets over the railing to air out before I washed them. Rose came back in with me, her skin still damp, and I tugged her hair loose from the braids as she sat down. The brownish gold color was glossy, silken through my fingers.
Breakfast was fried eggs, apple dumplings, pork sausage and buttermilk. Rose was a slow eater, savoring her food delicately, so I brushed and re-braided her hair as she sat at the table. Hurrying our through dressing, Mamma had her lunch made by the time we were done, and I ushered Rose from the house and toward the lane that lead to the school. She skipped along happily at my side, humming. We were late enough that we missed Nettie and her siblings, barely making it before Miss Hazel, now Mrs. Keaton, rang the bell.
I kissed Rose goodbye just before she sprinted across the yard to fly up the steps, disappearing into the building without a backward glance. On my walk back to the house I kept seeing a shadowy figure from the corner of my eyes, but I refused to look up. Wind Runner had hurt me, and I wasn't ready to face him calmly or risk reengaging him in another vicious argument. Frank was in the corral with Al when I returned, Toby nowhere around, Mamma on the porch sweeping. She glanced at me as I came up the steps.
"Are you staying home today sweetheart?"
"Yes," Absently I pulled the bedding from the rail. "Where would I go?"
"Jaynie..." her call faded as I turned my back, heading for the well. A large tub and washboard for scrubbing was standing by, and I diligently set to my task. The hard work should have occupied my mind, but it did not and I found my thoughts returning again and again to the night before. Anger at Wind Runner was turning into anger at me. Was it so important that he saw only my Indian side? Living among our people, how important would my mother's blood really be? I would use it for nothing, be judged for it not at all. I couldn't quite remember why I had been so offended now.
Fiercely twisting the sheets, I wrung them of excess water before bundling the damp fabric up to carry to the drying lines. Perhaps I was a fool, I decided, just a simple, foolish girl-
"Mornin' Miss Jaynie," his gentle voice brought my head up, and I met clear blue eyes full of friendly warmth.
"Toby,"
"Need a hand?"
"No," I took a half step back, then swiftly rethought my answer. "But I will not refuse, if you want to."
"I'd be glad to," He took the damp bundle from me, averting his eyes from my now wet blouse as he fell in step with me. At the drying line, I pulled the taut string down as he threw the bedding over it, holding it in place while I clipped it to the line with wooden pegs. We hadn't spoken, but his easy presence and friendly manner soothed my uneasy, raw nerves. I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking about what'd he'd witnessed last night.
"I hope you ain't sore at me," it was as if he'd read my mind. "I wasn't bein' nosey last night, Miss Jaynie. I had no idea you was sparkin' that fella."
"We're not-" I felt heat caress my cheeks as I started to protest, then stopped. "It wasn't your fault, what happened last night."
"You okay now-?"
"Doin' woman's work, Tobe?" the degrading taunt made us look up, Al on his horse, watching. "Spoilin' the squaw ain't ya?"
Full fire rose to my cheeks as anger surged through me, but Toby only shook his head. It seemed nothing could ruffle his calm exterior.
"Colter overhears you, you're out of a job Al."
"You're supposed to work the range, not the wash." Al sneered at him, and I started to wonder how the two of them were friends. "Come on, leave the half breed to her work. We're on the north grassland today."
"Comin'." Toby glanced at me with a half-smile. "Ignore him Miss Jaynie, he's always jawin' off about somethin'. Be seein' you."
I moved to the other side of the sheets to straighten them out, but found myself peeking around the edge of the folded fabric, watching Toby rope and saddle his dusky brown mount. His movements were smooth and practiced, easy, effortless, and calm. He'd glanced over at me and our eyes met before I really realized it, and he smiled. A hot blush flooded up my neck as I dodged behind the laundry, heart thudding. What was wrong with me?
"Butterfly," Frank spoke quietly from behind me, and I spun around embarrassed he'd seen me staring. There was a smile in his eyes. "Stay around the house today, okay? Your ma might need your help, an' she's worried about you."
"Yes, father."
"That's it?" He was teasing, but I saw a hint of worry bloom in his expression. "You ain't gonna argue with me?"
"No,"
"We're gonna talk, Butterfly, when I get back."
"Yes, father." No flicker of emotion went over my features, but I felt a small lurch of discomfort shiver through my stomach. What would he say? I watched him turn his paint pony about, leaving the yard at a canter. Within me was the feeling that everything was about to change.
"Jaynie?"
"Yes Mamma?" I was still watching Frank.
"I'm making fried chicken for dinner. Will you prepare a few birds for me?"
"Yes ma'am," Leaving the laundry to dry, I caught up the axe on the way to the chicken coop. It was never my favorite job, but I'd been butchering meat for our family's table for years. The process was truly simple, as long as one had the stomach for it.
I don't like the birds to suffer, so I used the axe to make their end quick, and knowing Mamma'd be making supper for six, I butchered three birds. When I got back to the house a large pot full of boiled water was sitting out, and I carefully dunked the bled, feathered bodies in. The heat would make pulling the feathers out easier and while they soaked, I took another tub from behind the back door and went to the well, filling it with cool water. The chicken carcasses would bathe in here next, to tighten the skin so it wouldn't rip as I stripped the feathers off. The next half hour was spent on the back porch, plucking a storm of feathers.
White, gold, and brown wisps floated everywhere, blown by the smallest drifts of breeze. The physical activity felt good, for it was an outlet for my restless mind. Mamma appeared when I was nearly done, her apron coated in flour dust. She'd been making loaves of her delicious homemade dough, I could smell the yeast on her.
"Need help?"
"No," glancing up, I blew a downy feather loose from my cheek. "I'm doing fine."
"Okay," she came out to sit at my side, watching for a moment. "You feel like talking about last night?"
"Mamma-"
"You have to sooner or later Jaynie. Why not now?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"What wouldn't I understand? Being a young woman? Being in love? Being angry, confused, scared? Honey...I was your age once too. I still remember what it felt like to not know what the world was all about, or my place in it." Her hand brushed over my shoulder. "Let me help you, talk to me."
"I don't know who I am...what I am, and worse," I risked a look into her eyes. "I'm not certain what I want to be. I thought I knew, and now..." I sighed, shaking my head. "I just don't know anymore."
"Does this young boy...what's his name- Wind Runner- does he have anything to do with this?"
"He's not a boy, Mamma, he's a man, and...what if he did?"
"Did?" She was quick to pick up on my nuance. "Is he gone, Jaynie?"
"I don't know." Miserable, I put the stripped carcass down, looking over at her. "What if he leaves, and never comes back?"
"My father used to say...when life gives you 'ifs', you either make them 'yes', or you throw them away. Don't waste time on 'what if', make time for what's real."
"You've never talked about your family before," shifting to face her, I studied my mother's features. "Why not?"
"My father owned a large plantation, and he had a mind for business but a poor heart for family. His stand was white was dominant, slave and Indian were less than livestock. I knew once I was stolen away I could never go home again- he'd never be able to accept me, accept what happened while I lived among the Sioux. I don't like to think about it, Jaynie, so I don't talk about it. Okay?"
"Okay," even though I was nearly grown, I suddenly realized there was an entire life behind the gentle loving eyes of my mother that I still knew nothing about. The reasons for her guarded attitude and anxieties became a little clearer.
"I'm sorry your life turned out so different, Mamma. You probably had a path laid out for you."
"I did," smiling, she met my eyes. "But I wouldn't trade the one I have now for any of it. I have you, sweetheart, and Frank, Rose...I could never give that up, ever."
"Was there anyone, before?" I asked softly, fiddling with a brown feather. "When you still lived with your father, I mean?"
"A suitor?" She nodded. "There was...a kind young man named Archibald Whittier. He was attending law school and meant to start a practice in New York. He'd made it very clear that he wanted to marry me, as soon as my father said he could."
"What happened?"
"Your father." She looked away, then back again briefly meeting my eyes. "I was out riding with Archibald, and the Indians came out of nowhere, like ghosts. Suddenly there was shouting, I was screaming- Jaynie," Pushing to her feet, Mamma took a few steps away. "I don't want to talk about it. You shouldn't have to hear this."
"I'm not a child, Mamma." Getting up, I went to her side but she only smiled at me, shaking her head.
"There are some things a child should never know about her parents. Your father, the Sioux village, my life there...it's all in the past so let's leave it there."
"Very well," leaning my shoulder against hers, I lent her comfort for a long moment then smiled. "Shall I help you cut the chicken up?"
"That would be wonderful sweetheart. Which would you prefer?" My mother's sparkle and smile were back, the sorrows of her past gone. "Apple pie, or blackberry turnovers?"
"Mmm," I grinned. "Both!"
We cooked in the kitchen until it was time for me to go meet Rose, so washing my hands, I hurried from the house. Again, furtive movements indicated I was not alone on the prairie but I did not slow my pace or look around. Staunchly, I ignored the specter. When I reached the path, I saw the familiar shape of Nettie on the trail ahead of me.
"Nettie!" At my relieved call she turned. "Wait for me!"
"Jaynie!" meeting me halfway, her hug was welcome. "I wondered if I would see you. What happened this morning?"
"We were late, almost." I smiled, but Nettie was studying my face, her knowing look clear.
"You been crying Jaynie?"
"I don't want to talk about it." But I knew that would never work, and Nettie's brow scrunched into a frown.
"What happened? That Al Baily start in on you already?"
"Ha!" My scoff was loud. "He's a fly in horse dung, Nettie, he doesn't worry me."
"Then who does?"
"Nettie..."
"Uh uh, you tell me." We stopped, her grip on my arm firm. "Don't start hiding things from me, we been friends too long."
So I told her, every detail, as simply and quickly as I could. Her large, expressive eyes stayed fixed on me the whole time, and she did not interrupt. When I finished and stood quietly, she finally spoke.
"That musta been real hard, Jaynie. I'm sorry,"
"What am I going to do?"
"What do you want to do?" she countered, resuming our walk. I shrugged, shaking my head.
"I am not certain...I'm so confused over it all. Maybe I should undergo the vision quest." My shoulders softly jerked as if shedding a heavy weight. "What would you do?"
"If my choice was between a white man and a black man?" I nodded. "I don't know, Jaynie...try to decide which one will make me happy, and stick with me through the 'better or worse' parts. That's what is really important, right?"
"I suppose so, yes."
"So..." her voice lowered to a scheming whisper. "What was your first kiss like?"