2. Spirit Bears
"Love is not a union merely between two creatures, it is a union between two spirits."
- Frederick William Robertson
"Clara! Clara, wake up!" Charlie entreated as he shook his older sister. Clara hazily opened her eyes, the sun was shining bright at the edge of their wagon. She looked around to see if there was a problem, but it was something she should feel, not see. The wagon was not moving, and it was already bright outside, so something was wrong. Being on a tight schedule, it would be dangerous to halt.
She threw the blanket off her, feeling the cold morning breeze on her bare legs, and followed her brother outside their wagon, wanting to investigate the small mystery was why they weren’t moving. Adjusting her eyes, she saw they were in the same exact spot as last night. She peeked her head around the edge of the curved wagon and saw people by the center. They both jumped out and headed there to find a cluster of angry men, especially her father. Colin was a hothead, and it did not take long for his pale head to turn into a giant cherry.
"Father," she ran over and looked around to see several of the wagon tongues broken in half, "who did this?" Wagon tongues were strong and hard to break, obviously someone wanted to impede the travelers and they knew how to do it.
"Damn rotten savages that's who!" he threw his hat on the ground and ran his fingers through his brown frustrated hair, probably hoping that getting angry would help (it certainly doesn’t), "If I ever see one, I will shoot it on the spot. Tim! Let's go out hunting before any savages could take those food too!"
"They stole our food as well?" Clara was shocked. The wagon supplied with all the food was right next to her. Wouldn't she had heard someone ransacking their supply, and the breaking of wood of the wagon tongues? Obviously she did not hear such things, which means either these people were very quiet, or something seemed odd. She had always thought of Indians to be quite loud, screaming their warrior's cry as they attacked their victims, but they didn't seem as stupid as people had told her. From what she was observing now, these so called savages seemed brilliant.
The thought of them being just a single wagon away thrilled yet scared her. She could have been kidnapped any moment by them if they wanted. She wondered if any of them actually looked inside her wagon, but who would want to steal a pretty white gal anyways?
"Stole everything to the crumbs," Brad walked over and wrapped an arm around Clara's skinny waist, "'dem Indians want us to starve. They even took our water."
"Took our water too? Jesus, without water the oxen will never make it Oregon. We should resupply at a river and stay the night until the other wagons will pass us. They may possibly have extra supplies," Charlotte appeared out of nowhere, scaring Clara half to death as her mother's Southern accent broke into the conversation. Brad noticed the small jump of surprise and held her closer, hoping to ease the tension.
"Clara and I can go find some water," Brad said. Clara widened her eyes, there was no way she would go out somewhere alone with him. Not that she worried what Brad could do to her (he could do a lot of things), but the fact that if there were savages out there; a semi-muscular man with his skinny tree woman would have no match against them. Brad could do something to her, but he was not that kind of man.
"Good, I'll go grab some men and we can go find some more food," her father nodded and turned to go get ready for his journey.
Charlie grabbed his father's arm, pleading, "Please father, can I go with you? I promise I will be a good lad and not cause any trouble. Please please?" Charlie seemed to think by added additional begging "pleases" would probably influence his father to his advantage. Charlotte looked at her husband, giving him a look that it was his decision. She knew it was dangerous out there, but Charlie always got what he wanted.
Charlie got away with anything, and everything.
"Alright Charles," Colin smiled, the first Clara had seem him smile in a while, "as long as you try and stay quiet. Don't scare any animals away." Charlie cheered and ran towards the horses, ready to go out on his officially first adventure. Clara's mother went to go talk with Brad's and everyone else left the circle, leaving the young couple alone.
"See, this is what you get for wishing for an adventure," Brad smiled as he gently squeezed her waist. He meant his sentence in a more joking manner, but Clara did not really find it funny.
"This is hardly an adventure Brad, just folks trying to pull our legs," she said as she released herself from his grasp, walking back towards her wagon. Brad followed her at a distance, still wanting her to join him on their little expedition, but did not want to upset her of course.
"You think this is a joke Clara? That somebody is wanting to get a laugh out of this?" Brad was a little surprised at how Clara was acting. She used to be so optimistic in things like this, but now it seems she took everything for a joke or a prank.
“Brad, what else could it be? I mean, I doubt Indians would want to attack us if they were smart. Which I think ‘dey are,” Clara replied and climbed inside her wagon while Brad just leaned against it, looking in.
“Well, how do ya know whatcha don’t know?” he asked, smiling as he noticed it was puzzling Clara. Clara did not know what to do. Sure, going outside would be much more exciting than staying inside and reading, but Clara wanted to go alone. She wanted to enjoy all of it by herself. She thought if anyone were to accompany her, she’d lose focus on herself. Clara never seemed to be alone anymore and everybody made decisions for her, did things for her without her permission. Books were the only thing to escape from her reality and enter her realm where nothing could go wrong, where things seemed to just flow. If she could go experience things her own way, to not have a time limit or a duty... she'd be much happier if things went the way she wanted them to.
She made her decision however, “Give me five minutes to change. I’ll join ya when I’m ready and then we can go find some water. Happy now?”
“Extremely happy,” he grinned and closed the wagon curtain, leaving Clara to change out of her silly dress and into some clothes that really suited her.
Chayton gently applied the small war paint to his cheeks, the green and black lines streaking against his cocoa brown skin as he gently used the edges of his fingers. The faint smell of dampened fire and smoke reached his encircled teepee as the celebration from last night seemed to end. The Sioux had many celebrations, at least three times a week and could last all night. Chayton liked them, but to a certain point because they were always elongated to the next morning, and Chayton disliked waking exasperated.
He stepped out in his teepee to look at his tribe's camp. There were twelve foot high thick wooden stakes making a perimeter around the camp, protecting it from any predators or invaders. Everyone seemed to be exhausted from the celebration, but there was always work to do, and Chayton's was to investigate these humans. He found Enapay brushing his pure white stallion, trying to get it ready for the journey ahead. Chayton did not bother to whistle for his, since he thought he could move much faster in the forest than his horse could; instead he picked up a few roasted nuts in a basket and took a bite of his breakfast, feeling the sweet crunch in his mouth.
"Híŋháŋni," His friend smiled as he wished Chayton a good morning. Chayton smiled and adjusted the bow near his neck, the rough string rubbing against his muscular back. He wanted to be rather quiet for now, and Chayton was always quiet unless in the spirits of being talkative. He preferred to stick by himself if possible so nobody could interrupt his thoughts. Enapay finished cleaning his horse and got on it, but Chayton just watched as his friend looked at him.
“No horse?” he said in the native language. Chayton looked into his friend’s eyes, noticing that his friend looked confused. Perhaps he noticed Chayton was struggling, or the fact that he was upset about something. “Sick?”
Chayton shook his head and checked himself for all the necessities he would need in their small expedition of “hunting” the white men. It was a pleasant day with the heat since Chayton never cared to put a shirt over himself anyways, and it seemed a perfect day to take a walk anyways. Not really wanting to reply to his friend’s question, he already started walking out of the camp, past the wooden fence and out into the wild plains. Enapay followed him, while grabbing his weapons from the soft leather saddle of his horse, and then caught up to him. They walked in silence at first, only hearing the sounds of howling winds next to their ears and the animals of Dakota Territory waking up from their slumbers. The sun was just starting to wake up as well, the dark violet and grey getting dominated by the brightness of the star.
Finally, Chayton spoke, “I had a dream last night.”
“Is that why you seem so off?” Enapay chuckled, his light and gentle voice leaving his lips.
“No, not dream... a vision, and it seemed of great importance,” Chayton reached behind his ponytail-mohawk and scratched the back of his neck, “It is bothering me.”
“Is it one of strange fear, or one that seems pleasant?” he asked.
“I was... I was in a room, full of white people. They were all dressed nice, with these wonderful long suits or dresses. I felt... nervous, that whatever I was waiting for worried me and I noticed that even I was wearing those elegant clothes. There was music, wonderful sweet music, and white couples dancing romantically together, it looked amazing. I can’t explain this conflict of overwhelming joy, but also of terror. A woman with a strange accent spoke my name, and I turned to my left to see her bringing forth a young gorgeous woman, possibly her daughter. This lady was beyond anything I have ever seen, it was like my heart had exploded and I do not know why.
“Her hair was up, but there were small walnut colored curls, that escaped the grip of the small clip. As I looked at her, we both smiled, as if we knew each other from the past, that we were just lost friends who had found each other. Her eyes just stared at mine, and I felt this strange feeling in my... in my,” Chayton took a deep breath, his body shaking as he tried to explain this, “in my heart, like I craved her and I needed her. I thought I would collapse as I felt a sharp, but positive pain in my left chest, one that urged me to approach her. I then woke up, the feeling still lingering in my body. That was when I knew this was no dream but a vision.”
“Hopefully one that does not come true,” Enapay spoke in English. He knew some of it, but was not fluent like Chayton was, although Chayton was no professional either.
“Why do you speak of it like that?” he asked, curious as to why his friend would be displeased in this vision.
“Any vision with white people, especially a woman, is bad. However, that is not the only issue I am seeing with this... vision. I have an answer to this mysterious emotion you are feeling: love,” Enapay looked at him with a distraught face.
“Love? Enapay you cannot be serious, I mean...” Chayton thought, but the more he thought about the young woman, the more he came to realize that it was true. There was a sense of romance towards her even though Chayton had never experienced this type of affection towards someone. He had been offered many wives from his father or brother, but Chayton was never interested in any of them; but this woman, this was one who he never would stop thinking of.
“I have a wife, Chayton, I think I know what you are feeling,” his friend looked at the distance and slightly smiled. Chayton closed his eyes and took a deep sigh.
“Why a white woman though?” the warrior asked his companion.
“If anyone were to fall in love with a white, it would be you Chayton.”
Chayton noticed that his comrade was right, but Chayton laughed it off. There was no way he would even like a white woman, let alone love one. He didn’t even know where to find one anyways.
That’s when it hit him.
He knew where to find one, they were happening to start walking towards them.
Clara heard the rushing sound of a river and softly kicked into the belly of her chestnut colored horse, feeling anticipation of reaching the water. Brad was behind her, making his horse speed faster to try and catch up. They had traveled for around twenty minutes in the dry plains until they reached a greener scenery. Green meant water, and water meant survival. Brad and Clara had brought at least enough pouches to hold several gallons of fresh water, it just meant their journey back to the wagons would be slower.
They galloped past the tall thin trees and found a dangerous rushing river, flowing rapidly against the rocks above its surface. Stopping and getting off their horses for a quick break and trying to relieve the pain in their groin areas, Clara grabbed two pouches dangling from the saddle and walked towards the wide river. There was obviously no way across it, unless you wanted to drown. The width was at least maybe ten to fifteen feet, and jumping across would be a useless attempt.
“Ya know, perhaps we should go upstream or downstream to find more calm water,” Brad did not grab any pouches, but watched his fiancé waltz towards the wild river.
“Calmer streams mean fish, and fish means bears. However, we never thought of bringing a gun did we?” Clara turned to her dirty blonde man and was curious to see if he brought a firearm or blade.
He didn’t have one.
“I had assumed that you had brought one,” Brad sighed and grabbed a few pouches from his and walked towards Clara. Brad smiled as he got a good look at her beautiful, lightly freckled face. He was always desperate to have her, and even though it seemed as they were to get married soon, Clara never actually felt a type of romantic affection towards him. He always felt as he pulled her close, she would push further away; he still had that feeling that she was never in his grasp. She was independent yes, but that did not mean a man would have no place in her life.
“You assumed that a woman would bring a gun?” Clara laughed. Brad smiled to see her laugh, acting normal for once. It’s what he thought was normal though, most people did not know the actual Clara, Brad only knew a part of her.
“I just... ya seem so paranoid about this whole thing that I thought you would bringa’ gun,” Brad shrugged and dipped his finger into the frigid river, “Damn that’s cold.”
“Ya,” Clara replied as she stuck her hand in. It was not that cold as Brad may have exaggerated, but it was no hot spring. She made sure she filled her pouch to its capacity, then filled another. Brad had finished filling his first two and was already at his horse, grabbing more. Clara smiled at him trying to help, but she never wanted to get this over with. The scenery was ok, not cold and bare but it was no luscious forest.
The river flowed the same as it would, and Clara was careful not to lean in too far. She had heard many dangers of being out into the wilderness like this, but sometimes it seemed so peaceful. Suddenly she heard a strange grunt, something inhuman. She turned her head to the left, towards the sound of anger.
Standing maybe a hundred feet away was a black bear, a big one.
“Brad...” Clara stood up and yelled to her fiancé. Brad looked up and his eyes widened; he saw the bear charging towards her at his lumbering full speed. Clara knew jumping into the river may save her from being clawed or eaten to death, but not from drowning. Running was too late though, by the time she got halfway to her horse, the bear would be on her. She had no idea what to do except stand there, paralyzed in fear, hoping that something or someone could distract it. Echoing in the distance she could hear Brad yelling things, and eventually he picked up a rock and threw it at the lumbering black beast, but it continued.
However, she had a Protector.
Chayton saw the bear coming across the river towards the young woman. He ran towards the river and leapt the wide gorge, avoiding the brutal waves and landed next to the woman, knocking her over and out of the way as he put his hand out. The black bear that was at full speed, now came to a halt right before the Native American’s hands. Keeping his hand there, the bear stood there, staring at the Sioux Warrior. Clara was in shock on the grass, mouth open, breathing at its peak, and hands shaking. As the handsome, muscular and mocha skinned man lowered his hand, the bear turned around and walked away.
Chayton turned and saw the woman in disbelief, but he stuck a hand out, hoping maybe the white cream could, for a short second, mix with his chocolate hand. She grasped his rough and calloused hands and he pulled up, perhaps too hard because she was thrusted almost into his naked chest. He could feel her hot breath on the bare skin of his chest, and he clenched his jaw for getting her too close.
“Thank you,” she said, still out of breath. Chayton looked into her hazel eyes, the strange jungle green met his dark wooden abyss, and he actually curved his lips into a small smile. He did not know whether to actually speak English, or just nod in understanding. Her soft hands were still in his, being enclosed by the giant palms he possessed. He wanted to hold them forever; he had never touched something so soft.
“Hey!” Brad ran over and their hands left each other's as they looked at the confused fiancée, “How did you do that? That was amazing!”
Chayton just shrugged, of course he knew how to control the animal, he just did not want to share the secrets with these white strangers. He kept his eyes on the girl though, noticing that something was familiar with her. Light brown curls at the tips of her hair, a dazzling smile, and a nice smooth face really made Chayton ponder whether this woman was the one in his dreams. The more he thought of it, the more his heart raced, and the more he looked at her amazing features, his body started to heat up and blush.
“Clara, are ya okay?” Brad turned from the interesting and built Indian to his girl.
“I am fine yes... thanks to him,” she rubbed her shoulder from the harsh landing and looked back at Chayton. Chayton’s heart fluttered as he heard her name. Clara... it was the most beautiful name in the world to him. The two syllables easily rolled off his tongue in his mind, and there was a sense of lightness to the name. It was like her name was a sweet music that flowed easily. Chayton then heard the sound of the “twa-too” again, disrupting the sweet sound of Clara and looked back towards the forest. He had no idea if Enapay just saw what happened, but obviously there was something else going on; something that wasn’t good.
He quickly turned around and leaped over the river, running back into the forest as Clara started yelling towards him. He felt guilty for leaving her without speaking or anything, but according to Enapay, something bad was happening. He put aside the light feelings and started to feel a violent, dark, emotion... something anticipating what was going to happen next.
Clara watched the painted Indian warrior leap across the wide river with ease. She could not help but blush as he looked at her before running back into the forest. He was incredibly handsome and cute, the kind where seeing him would melt every girl’s heart, even if he was considered to be a “savage”. His slight and curvy smile was gorgeous as it appeared on his tan face and his light brown eyes were like an abyss of dark ocean. Clara could still feel the residue of his calloused, rough, but yet gentle hands on hers; the electric blast of cold that met her warmth caused a tropical storm within themselves.
His muscular and built body made Clara flutter as she almost lost her balance and made contact with it. Compared to Brad, this charming Native was obviously stronger and fit, making Brad look like weak, skinny farmer (which was what he practically was). His unique mohawk hair style that left sixty percent of his head bald except the center caused her fingers to tingle as she tried to imagine the texture.
“Are you sure you are okay?” Brad asked as he finished tying up the last supplies of water. There was no way he was going to let her back towards the river, so she was forced to stay near the horses.
She wanted to reply with never better, or even brilliant, because it was true. There was something that just made everything seem better around her. The birds started to sing and the sun reflected off the bright green trees, giving the sense of life surrounding her. She finally felt... alive.
“Yeah, of course. Better than getting eaten by a bear I suppose,” she tried to shrug it off as Brad helped her on to her horse. Brad didn't leave there, but left his hand on her leg, which annoyed her slightly.
“I should have brought a gun or something... I just felt so helpless. It seems strange to say that a savage saved you, ya know?” He gently squeezed her boots and Clara seemed to be oblivious to the entire thing.
“Maybe they are not savages. It could be totally possible that Indians had not ransacked our supplies but a group of raiders. We say things like this, but maybe we are the ones who are savages... we’re the ones who are different in their eyes,” she shrugged.
“You willing to believe that because one Indian saved you? What faith you have in them Clara,” he slightly smiled.
“Oh what faith you have in white people Brad. You see one Indian and you judge a whole entire culture based on what that one person did. I’m willing to get to know them a little bit more before I start calling men and women barbaric and savages,” Clara gripped the leather bridle hard, not in anger towards Brad, but frustration in the world really.
“Well then, I certainly hope that you would not get the chance to ‘know them a little bit more’ because they’ll eat you within minutes,” he joked and walked towards his own horse. Clara was now more upset because as she started heading back towards their camp, there was something tugging on her heart to turn and head deep in the forest. But, she couldn’t do that could she? She had a family to return to, because her purpose was to keep her own family happy, not herself.
“What just happened will not be spoken to anyone Brad, understand?” Clara said as her horse passed his.
“But what an interesting story to tell,” Brad sighed.
“Telling that story will only make my father go on a rampage and kill innocent people. It’s best that something of that sort does not happen,” Clara looked her fiancé straight in the eye.
“Alright, fine.”
Chayton sprinted behind Enapay, the soft dirt kicking up behind both of them as they ran. Chay had no idea what was happening, but Enapay could. Enapay was not really a warrior, but he was more of a spirit warrior than a physical one. He was much more capable of connecting with the spirits all around him, much better than Chayton. Chayton never really bothered with the spirits, for some reason he thought they were bogus, fakes, however he couldn’t say such things around his tribe.
“Stop,” Enapay held his hand up, signaling the out-of-breath warrior behind him to halt. Chayton stopped right behind him, a little winded at running at least a couple of kilometers. They were standing above a low, rocky, unstable cliff as they viewed several white men possibly a hundred yards away. They stayed low, of course, trying their best to stay hidden in the foliage of the forest. Chayton tried his best to observe how many men there were, but all he saw was around three... and what looked like a young boy.
They sat there, blending in with the green surroundings, just investigating what these white men were doing. Soon they would get their answer.
“So Colin,” a more skinny man on a horse asked one of the other ones, the one with a curvy mustache, “is everything alright with Clara? Brad said that things were a little off with her lately.” Chayton’s ears perked up like a wolf at hearing the splendid name.
“Not sure Will. Clara has been acting strange ever since we left Richmond, but maybe it’s because she had to leave school early and not finish,” the man, Chayton tried to conclude was Clara’s father, got off his horse and grabbed a rifle off the saddle. Suddenly, the intimidating father signaled for them to be silent as the rest got of their horses. The young boy gripped his small pistol with two hands, slightly shaking it with the nerves. Chayton would have never been scared at that age with a weapon, but maybe it was perhaps he was born a warrior.
Finally, they all heard the sound of something faintly grunting, mixed with a high pitched squeal. A very large brown cub came rolling down the small grassy hill next to them, not noticing the humans until it came to a stop. It did not attack the humans, for the cub was just as interested in the humans as Chayton was. In fact, the bear cub approached Clara’s father since he stuck his hand out (stupid idea, do not do it).
“Chayton...” Enapay whispered to the warrior as he watched in confusion, “spirit cub.” Uh oh, not good. Chayton now saw the small white patch underneath the cub’s stomach, signaling he is one of the spirit bears. Spirit Bears were especially important, they symbolized strength and were the Guardian of the West. Anyone who killed a Spirit Bear, especially an Indian would be punished to the death.
“Charlie,” Colin, also Clara’s father, (or mustache man) looked at the dirt haired boy and smiled, “why don’t we let this be your hunting kill, eh?” Enapay jerked, as if trying to go down there and prevent the death of the young cub, but Chayton held him back. The life of a spirit cub was not worth theirs, in time another will be born, but Chayton figured another person like himself would not. Enapay eventually calmed down, and they all looked at the small boy which Chayton guessed him to be around eight or nine years old, and they noticed some conflict inside him.
His bit lip and steady grip on the gun gave him the sense of determination, but his blue eyes said something else. There was a sense of sadness, a young boy to have to be the end, the demise of such a curious creature, such a savage beast, but little did he know this slaughter would lead to another death of such a curious, unfortunate savage. He had a choice to make; make his father proud, become a man in the family; or, be innocent, be called a wimp and little boy. However, boys those ages do not understand anything of the sort. They do not understand the fact that every decision that they make will determine their fate and future in the end.
The decision that seemed to benefit him at the moment, making his father proud, really would not benefit in the end but ruin his life really. The decision to be a wimp actually would have ended his life to be a different story, and possibly many others, but however, being called a hasty-witted weasel did not appeal to him at the moment but it would have eventually paid off in the end, sparing some pain. But he was just a kid, and did not think of such things, so he nervously gripped his revolver, pointing it straight at the cub chewing its paw. At the click sound of the revolver, it looked up at the boy in confusion, but it would not get to figure it out as the bullet sped straight into the cub’s neck, leaving no more time for thinking.
Enapay looked away before he could see the innocent life quickly stolen by another, but Chayton watched every second, even the celebration of the surrounding men towards the young boy. The boy smiled at the gratitude and applause towards him, but Chayton could see his throat tighten as he looked at the cub with sorrowful eyes. They waited behind the tall pine until the white men saddled to cub corpse to one of the horses, and galloped away, leaving only dust and blood.
“Chayton, this will bring spiritual unbalance. Once the mother finds outs, she’ll want that cub back,” Enapay closed his eyes and sighed, realizing that this was a much bigger problem than they first thought.
“What if we brought the corpse back?” Chayton looked at his companion, curious to know how to avoid conflict with the white people.
“I think, if we bring it back, the Spirit could revive the cub,” Enapay shrugged, and Chayton slightly smiled, thinking it would probably avoid a catastrophe.
“Well then, I guess we will have to visit their camp... we should tell my father, and hopefully we can ask for the corpse back. Tell him to bring extra food, so that if they were intending the cub as a meal, then we can trade,” Chayton got up from kneeling, and looked west towards their own camp.
“Smart,” Enapay smiled back and they headed towards their home.
Clara dropped her thin pen and looked at her sketchbook. There was a perfect remembrance of the Indian who saved her today. Her photographic memory would now be put into good use, other than good for studying. Her drawing was pretty good as well, but it was the photographic memory that really sold the drawing. Everything was the same, the war paint, the hair, the smile, the small scar under his eye, and even the perfect lips. If she was to never see that man again, at least the drawing will always remind her of him, the man who saved her when nobody else could, or would.
She closed the book/journal and heard the echoing sound of approaching horses. Clara jumped off her wood hard bed and looked outside the wagon to see her father and brother returning from the north. Her brother was the first off his horse, and he walked towards Clara, tying his steed to the wagon for now.
“How’d it go?” Clara asked her younger brother, wondering what it would be like to go hunting. However her mother would never let her do such things; such things like that were not feminine.
“It was fine,” he mumbled quietly, and Clara knew immediately something was wrong. Charlie looked up at Clara, and Clara noticed trouble in his eyes, a type of sadness, something she could not describe. However as she was about to ask what was wrong, he said, “What’s that?”
Clara looked where he was pointing at the side of her button up shirt and there was a couple blotches of blood. She widened her eyes as she pulled the tucked shirt out of her jeans and investigated the blood. Pulling up the side of her shirt, she saw small bits of gravel in a small bloody wound.
“What happened?” he rose an eyebrow and looked his tall older sister straight in the eyes.
“Nothing, I just fell off my horse. Ya know me, a big klutz and all,” she faked a smile.
“Clara, you are never a klutz,” he crossed his childish arms, “tell me what happened.”
“It’s none of your business,” Clara sneered and jumped back in the wagon, “keep watch, I’m changing my shirt.”
Charlie sighed and stood guard while his sister changed. Clara sighed to herself, relieved that she was able to get the wound off her brother’s mind. Clara was not very good at lying, but rather much better had hiding. There were differences between the two of course, but sometimes they intertwined. Clara sighed as she dug through her bag of clothes, the only thing remotely clean was her corset, but her mother would possibly kill her because it “exposed” too much.
However, Clara decided to wear it, not much to rebel, but just because she figured that she could dress like that and nobody else would care. She was already engaged, and the other men knew she was not available anyways. After fixing her outfit and making sure her wound wouldn’t bleed anymore, Charlie started rapidly banging on the wagon, yelling.
“Clara, Clara come out!” he yelled and Clara jumped out to see what all the nonsense was about. She looked out and saw a group of people on horses on the hill nearby: Native Americans.
“What in the hell did you guys do!?” Clara now deducted that whatever had Charlie upset had something to do with the arrival of the Indians.
“We... or more of I, shot a bear cub,” Charlie whispered as they both stared at the Natives in the distance. Suddenly Brad, Colin, and a couple of other men started fast-walking out there, weapons in one hand, fist clenched on the other. Clara started following them but Charlie gripped her hand, signaling her not to go too. She shook his hand away and followed them, knowing that shooting a bear cub was a little ridiculous for Indians to be upset, but it still was a bear cub.
As Clara got closer to the four Indians off their horse and ahead of the rest of the ones waiting, she noticed one of them was the man who saved her earlier that day. Her heart rose in excitement, and she almost practically sprinted towards her father and Brad. They turned around at the sound of pounding boots and Brad smiled, Colin, however, did not.
“Clara, go back,” he commanded and pointed directly back towards the wagons.
“Oh come on Mister Robertson, let her have the adventure she wants on this trip,” Brad smiled and looked at her father.
Her father somewhat smiled, wanting to make his daughter happy, thinking that maybe something like this would make her a little bit excited and jumpy, “Well, as long as you do not say anything or do anything that could potentially harm us.”
“Yes sir,” Clara nodded and walked next to Brad, smiling until they were within ten feet of the Native Americans. There were only four standing, one young girl, wearing a colorful vest with eagle feathers and her hair braided perfectly. Next to her was what Clara thought to be the Chief, dressed with multiple layers of cultural clothing, feathers around and deer skin shoes and pants. To his left was a man a little shorter than the Chief, all decorated in war paint (more than the other one) and he had weapons all over him: bow and arrows, tomahawk in one hand, and a handmade shield in the other. His large muscles intimidated Clara, and once he made eye contact with her, he never looked away. However, she turned her attention to the one closer to her... the one who saved her.
He was looking the same, except the three streaks on each of his cheeks were slightly smeared, either by hand or sweat from when he went running off earlier. He looked up, and when he saw Clara he had no idea what to do. His heart pounded, and Clara did a small waving motion with her hand, signaling a hello. His breathing got more rapid, but he tried his best to act natural. Chayton smiled and imitated her, waving back. Clara smiled and her heart melted.
“So, what is it you are here for?” Colin asked and Clara directed her eyes towards her father.
“We are here for the Spirit Cub,” the young girl said, perfect English rolling off her tongue. Everybody was actually quite surprised at such words coming out of her mouth, but it made Colin more furious.
“It is just a cub, merely just food for our families. We are survivors and hunters, shooting cubs mean nothing to us,” Colin responded back rather spitefully. Clara looked back at her “friend” and noticed his eyes never left her, and his smile only widened when she looked. She smiled back and kept one eye on him, and the other on the conflict to her left.
“Sir, that bear is of the Spirit world. The mother is a Spirit... and is causing unbalance within our culture. We kindly ask you return the corpse. We have things in return we can give to you,” the girl replied, with the same tone she started with, just monotonous.
“We want no poison you savages could offer,” Colin finally turned towards Brad and Clara, only to find his daughter googly-eying the attractive Indian across from them. He could see the Indian returning the same looks, the smile on his face as he stared at his daughter, his most prized possession, “Clara! Do not encourage the boy!”
Clara flinched at his harsh tone and looked at her father, nodding, then looking at the ground. Chayton felt bad... it was his fault as well and she was the one getting punished for it. He turned his eyes towards her father and felt his burning eyes staring at himself. Eventually, her dad looked away and back at the girl. The girl was translating to the rest of them what Colin was saying, and the Chief looked a little disappointed. Clara bit her bottom lip, knowing that what she did was stupid and rather silly... but his smile seemed infectious.
“We have food, enough to last you until you get to your destination,” the girl explained.
“No means no, this corpse will not-”
“Father,” Clara looked up and at her dad, “We should return the bear cub. It is a part of their culture, and we should respect it. They are giving us enough food in return for the travel... we should take it. Making them angry will do nothing but make it worse. What is the harm in returning the cub? We can accept their food or go hunt later, we will not starve. Just let them go in peace.”
Colin stood there, pondering that his daughter did have a point, “You may retrieve the cub, but we will not accept any of your ‘gifts’.”
“That is fair enough,” the daughter said and spoke their native language back to the rest of them.
“Chayton, get the bear,” Chaska, his older brother, commanded him. Chayton nodded and headed towards Colin, symbolizing he would retrieve the bear.
“Go ahead savage,” Colin sneered, “take the bloody bear.”
Chayton clenched his fist, but then immediately released it, knowing that any show of wanting to be violent would only have everyone agree to what the scary man was saying. Instead, he walked past him, towards the strange covered things on wheels and he felt a presence to his left. He turned, and saw the girl there, Clara.
“Hi...” she whispered.
“Hello,” he replied and slightly smiled.
“Y-you speak English as well?” she looked surprised. Clara had no idea that not only was this man completely into her, but he also spoke English, which also seemed to make things easier (but also dangerous as well). Chayton just shrugged as her question and smiled, looking at the ground as they were heading towards the strange covered transports.
“Chayton,” he said and looked at her. She perked her head up and looked at the attractive man walking to her right, his strong stride looking almost military like.
“Clara,” she grinned and they arrived at the wagons. Clara motioned Chayton to stand there until she would need help, and she went to Charlie, “where’s the cub?”
“On Father’s horse,” he said and grabbed Clara’s hand, leading her to their father’s steed and the cub was tied to the rear end. She cut the ropes with a small knife protruding the saddle, and she did not realize how heavy the large cub actually was. However Chayton was behind her and grabbed her, keeping her from falling backwards from the overwhelming weight. She felt the rough hands around her waist and she kept her balance.
“Here,” he said, taking the bear easily away from her arms and put the limp, innocent savage over his shoulder. Clara was surprised at how easy he had made it look, making the bear look like it weighed nothing more than a stuffed rabbit. Clara had not noticed till now, but his ripped muscles on his arms were covered in small scars or bruises, the mocha skin having small blotches or lines of dark chocolate. Once he balanced the bear on his right shoulder, he started to walk back towards where his tribe was waiting. “Thank you for the cub.”
“Do you think the mother will not be so mad?” Clara asked. Chayton just shrugged and Clara just smiled to herself, knowing that either he was probably shy, or maybe he did not know much English. As they were closer to approaching them, Clara started making her distance away from Chayton, although she had wished to be as close to him as possible. Around him, her atmosphere felt protected... that nothing could harm her. Brad or even her own father never gave off such a strange veil of protection, but Chayton seemed like the one who would be willing to sacrifice himself for a stranger.
As soon as they got back and Chaska took the bear from Chayton’s arms, Colin gripped his daughter’s arm firmly, pulling her into him, as if dragging her away from the mystery of the painted Sioux Warrior. Chayton turned after Chaska took the creature, and saw Colin whispering something to Clara. That was when Chayton saw something in her eyes that he wished he would never see in such hazel, beautiful eyes: fear. As her father whispered, he could see a fearful look on her face, and it made him want to go over there and push the father away; but he could not do that.
Clara saw him looking at her, and she eventually looked away as Colin stopped talking. He still had the firm grip on her arm, but his furious voice was turned away from her sensitive ears. Clara had hoped that Chayton would do something, to put her out of her misery of being stuck there. Her eyes sent a plea for help, hoping that he could understand what she was trying to tell him.
“Are you sure you do not want our gifts?” the Indian girl asked one more time, hoping that maybe she could change his mind on accepting the food.
Colin, instead of replying, just grumbled and shook his head. The Sioux tribe then walked back to their horses, starting to travel away since they had their prize. Chayton was the last to gallop away, since he was too busy looking at Clara with that face of fear. However, he forced himself to turn away, and he sped away on his painted stallion to regroup with his family.
“Brad,” Colin looked at him and the other men around them, “get some horses and we shall have to go hunting again.”
“Yes sir,” Brad and the others ran back towards their camp, having to go gather people for another hunting party, leaving Clara and her father alone. Clara now felt as if nothing prevented her father from beating her now. It was true, Colin could be very abusive, towards Charlotte or Clara, but it was rare that he ever got into the attacking mood. Only if Clara did anything wrong did he physically hurt her, and Clara just figured to avoid any trouble, do what she was told, and pay all her attention to her family.
“And you missy,” Colin tugged harshly on her arm once more, and Clara bit her lip to avoid having a soft grimace of pain escape her lips, “we will talk after dinner.” Clara nodded, understanding that probably he was going to beat her. Clara thought about telling her mother, but Charlotte was too a coward to stand up to her husband. Even if Charlotte tried to persuade him to not beat their own daughter, it would only end in both of them being beat.
Clara just now even had more of an urge to just sprint into the forest, into the wilderness. Her home, her family, no longer protected her, in fact they harmed her. To her, she wanted to escape, escape the torment that her life was. All her life she did what others wanted her to do, and now when she tried to do something like smiling at a boy, she would get harshly punished. She knew she had to get out, she just had no idea how to do it without hurting her family.