Frank returned the stolen horses. I watched him ride out behind the bunch as they started eagerly for home, but I couldn't help feeling a twinge of melancholy. Wind Runner had worked very hard to impress me with his gift, and despite my shock, he had. Knowing Mamma would be home soon with Rose I left the house, heading out into the open land beyond the yard. I really did not want to face her right now. Meeting Wind Runner out here was a possibility but I recalled Frank's words...I could not avoid him forever.
He found me in the high grass looking over the yard, his appearance like that of a stealthy wolf. The look in his eyes was guarded, but gentle as he approached me, the golden grass silent against his tanned buckskin leggings. The fringed shirt he wore was decorated with paint, feathers, and pieces of bone. It reminded me of a war shirt, one that normally would have been decorated with scalps but the fierce fighting of the past was long over. He noticed my lingering gaze.
"Does it displease you?"
"No," shyly I met his obsidian eyes. "We parted in anger,"
"We did." He moved closer, still uncertain of me. "For that I am sorry."
"Only that?"
"I do not like being angry with you, and I do not like your anger at me."
"I am sorry also, I can no longer remember why I was so upset. I have been miserable since we argued." Taking a step closer I gauged his mood, then he smiled triggering a similar response on my lips.
"I accept you, Butterfly...just as you are, with the blood of your mother, and your people. Without either you would not be the one I love."
"So you love me still?" I hated to ask him that, but I was so new to all of this that my inexperience demanded satisfaction and reassurance. Wind Runner smiled at me with his eyes, those deep black pools smoldering with powerful inner fire.
"I will never stop. You are here, now." His fingertip tapped his heart. "There is nowhere I can go that you do not accompany me."
"Wind Runner, I- I don't know what to say." My body was weightless as my heart soared.
"Your father accepted my gift?" He nodded toward the corrals, so empty looking without the stolen herd. My hair rustled over my dress as I shook my head.
"You stole those ponies from a white man that is our neighbor. Frank takes them back. He says if I am to marry you, that is my choice."
"Is it?" Long steps put him at my side, his masculine appeal sending my delicate senses reeling as I automatically leaned into his arms as they slid around me. It was like coming home. I wanted to say yes, but something held my acceptance at bay.
"I have thought much of your proposal, I just cannot answer you. I need more time."
"What do you wait for, Butterfly? What sign do you need before you accept me?"
"Perhaps one that means this is the right path for me."
"Do you love me?" His eyes were incredibly close now, twin pits that were so dark and deep I felt myself falling in.
"I have always loved you," the whisper was pulled from me against my will. "Since I was a child with only the memories of my father to hold onto."
"Return with me," his urging was spoken against my lips, the heat of his mouth sparking tendrils of flame in my blood.
I tried to turn away, shy, but he caught my chin tenderly holding my face in place. Tantalizing, teasing, he slowly used his teeth on my lower lip, making the muscles in my lower back clench tightly as I gasped. I was losing myself to this passionate brave who was so willing to give me a place to belong, an identity to hold onto. His inviting kisses grew longer, yet still alluring and enticingly promising. My lashes fluttered closed then opened again, trying to keep my reasoning intact as my hands slid up his chest.
I felt Wind Runner's fingers on my lower back, pressing into the muscles, urging me closer against him. It became hard to breathe, my heart pounding against my ribs. I wanted to lose myself to this, to surrender to the heavy onslaught of desire building inside me.
"Come with me," he whispered against my lips. "I will show you a world you have forgotten, a world where you will be at peace."
"How can that be?" I countered quietly. "I know the ways of our people are in the past, that even great chieftains have surrendered and moved to reservations."
Leaning in close, Wind Runner put his forehead to mine, looking deeply into my eyes.
"I will never live on hand outs of the white men! I live free, my village lives free, and so can you."
It was tempting, the allure of the past calling to me. I wanted so badly to believe him, so be assured that the warm, treasured memories I'd carried since childhood could still be mine.
"Come..." backing away, tugging on my hand, he smiled. "Let us go, come with me."
I let him lead me, lost in the full smile of the brave, handsome warrior who had won my heart. Each footstep seemed lighter than the last until I was floating above the grass, held only by the warm grip of Wind Runner's hand on mine. His pony was only a few dozen yard away, standing three legged in the shade of an aged sycamore tree. I was lifted to the dusky gray's back, then Wind Runner was up behind me, his arms wrapped around me as he took the rope hackamore. With a sure flip, he headed the horse away from the yard, away from the ranch, leaving my family home behind me.
Leaning back against his chest, I tilted my face skyward closing my eyes as the wind whispered against my cheeks. It felt like a dream, a wild, wonderful fantasy that I held on tightly to. I was going home, once more I would be among my people-
Tingling started in my stomach, then washed cold shivers down my back as my eyes snapped fully open, focusing in sharply on an object in the distance. It made my heart lurch as warning bells rang in my mind.
There was an eternal instant when all the horrors of my dream came rushing to the surface. With a wailing scream I used all my strength to shove Wind Runner forcefully off the horse as the heavy clap of a rifle shattered the stillness. White hot pain hit me with the force of a charging buffalo and I spun wildly from the pony. Long dry grass crunched beneath my cheek as I heavily struck the ground, a low moan bubbling from between my lips as everything went black.
For a moment I surfaced from the cloaked world of unconsciousness. A shadow passed over my face, gentle, calloused fingers on my cheek. From a great distance I heard screams- my mother's voice? There were drums beating beneath my ear then a strong hand closed briefly on my shoulder before I was lifted from the ground. Not wanting to die, I nevertheless felt my life draining away, the hot blood staining my blouse making it stick to my skin.
"Ah'day-wa-yea kee, meesh'ay-hay kee-ksue'yea nee-yea. (Father, I remember you)..." It did not sound like my voice, but the vibration in my throat told me I spoke aloud. "Remember your daughter now..."
"Kimimela-"
"Papa...papa..."
"Jaynie!" the high pitched shriek came from beyond the darkness, a world away. "Jaynie – no!" Then my world vanished.
"Kimimela." His voice called to me, commanding, insistent. "Kimimela."
"Who is it?" my cry echoed. "Who calls to me?"
"Come!"
From a great distance I heard the soft rattling of empty shells, bones jingling merrily against one another, a light musical sound that teased my senses from darkness. Blinking, I looked around uncertain of where I was. The prairie was all around me, the long golden grass swaying in the breeze, the jangling of shells in the background. From somewhere along the vast horizon I heard the light tapping of skin drums. Sunlight was pale and warm on my face and arms as I looked around me. In the waving grass I saw the silhouette of a tepee with a finger of smoke trailing up to the sky. Chanting was coming from the lodge, a faint murmur of sound that sounded like a song. Curious, I headed that way.
As I drew closer to words became clear, and I listened attentively as I walked nearer. 'Grandfather Great Spirit all over the world, the faces of living things are all alike. With tenderness they have come up out of the ground. Look upon your children that they may face the winds, and walk the good road to the day of quiet. Grandfather Great Spirit fill us with the light. Give us the strength to understand and the eyes to see. Teach us to walk the soft earth as relatives to all that live.'
Carefully, I approached the lodge, bending to peer inside as the smooth voice faded and stopped. All around me the smooth sounds of the rattling shells intensified, provoking my heartrate to respond. Shadows within the tepee moved as a form rose gracefully to turn and look at me. Stalking Elk stood there, his eyes kind, but sober and wise. Holding out his hand, he invited me inside the skin lodge.
"Kimimela, come. I have called you here, for there is much that weighs on your heart."
"You called me here? Am I dead?"
"You stand on the edge of the abyss, Kimimela...your life hangs upon a delicate thread."
"So where are we?"
"At a place where the shadows of our past meet the promise of the future, where the path of our lives split into infinite possibilities."
"Is this a vision quest?" Suddenly alert, I fully met his gaze, watching the shaman's eyes crinkle as he smiled at me.
"Consider it that way, if you wish. I asked you to meet me here, so that we can speak freely, before you choose."
"Choose what?"
"Life, or death."
Stunned, I simply stood there, gaping at him in shock as the Medicine Man stretched his hand farther toward me, a gentle prompt that I accepted. He guided me into the cool shadows of the lodge, and we both folded our legs beneath us as we sat. Silent, Stalking Elk stirred the flames, casting amber light through the dim interior of the tepee.
"Nothing makes sense anymore," I spoke suddenly, needed to express the turmoil inside me. "I cannot seem to find my way, my purpose. All I want is to go home...but, what is that now? Our way of life is lost, our war chiefs killed, our land stolen, our people living on reservations...that is not home."
"All things change, Kimimela, the true test of our character is how we react to that change." Stalking Elk looked up at me, his black eyes somber. "Yet, our people live. While it is true that most are denied the freedoms our ancestors lived with, they still survive, and our courage, our honor, lives on in our children. Our stories will be sung, the memories of our glory passed on...and that cannot be taken from us."
"Wind Runner has asked me to marry him," broaching the subject that bothered me, I lowered my eyes. "Yet I hesitate. Is that the right path for me?"
"I am not here to tell you what the desires of your heart are," he chided softly. "Your trouble is not the desires of a young woman's heart, but the true longing as to the identity of yourself...you seek inner peace, belonging, and you will not find that here, but among the living. I merely ask that you return to them."
"Then what?" I asked miserably. "Should I go back to simply not knowing where I belong? Perhaps death is better..."
"Have courage," the shaman spoke deeply, forcing my eyes to meet his across the flickering tongues of the fire. "Your future is a bright one, if you are brave enough to face it."
"What do you mean?" I half sat up, but the Medicine Man vanished abruptly and I was alone in the middle of the prairie. It was quiet, so utterly still that it seemed I could hear the blades of grass pushing up through the dry soil. Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath.
"What do I want?" My murmur was soft as my lips barely moved. "What do I truly want?"
Eyes the color of midnight formed in my mind, framed in a strong, familiar face. Hair the color of ebony hung in long sheets down his back, streaked with gray. Twined in the black length were eagle feathers and a slim braid of red leather, complementing the claw necklace that hung about his neck. Opening my eyes, I found the vision standing before me, bare chested, his legs encased in buckskin legging with beaded fringes.
"Little Butterfly, my little one..."
"Papa..." it drifted from my lips, full of longing and years of painful separation. "I miss you."
"You must choose, my daughter." His image began to fade, the world around me shimmering as it started to vanish like mist. "To find your place in life, you must choose."
"Papa...no, don't leave yet! Papa!"
The wail was echoing in my mind as I was dragged from the dream. Dull knifing pain edged in on my consciousness, stripping away the comfort of the blackness around me. In the distance I heard a low groan, the movement in my throat alerting my foggy mind it was my voice. I hear mutterings, smelled the sharp, pungent scent of crushed herbs, thick wood smoke, and hot oil. Something touched my forehead, a voice chanting nearby but before I could grasp onto consciousness it slipped from me and I faded back into nothingness.
"Sweetheart?" a cool hand touched my face, the effect like icy water. Ripped cruelly from sleep I jerked away with an incoherent cry. My body shifted as the mattress beneath me moved, something large and warm pressing against my side. I groaned again, unsure where I was, or if I was still in the depths of my dream.
"Ah'tay...ah'tay...(father), come back to me..."