"I am uncertain, yet, as you know. I love my home in St. Louis, but there is some undefined aspect about this land that causes me to feel peaceful, as though this is my home." She sighed. "But, we don't have to decide now, do we? After all, we have yet to explore the woods and plains in the country. Indeed, if the intriguing scent of the autumn leaves and the atmosphere in this country is a sample of the beauty to be found here, I admit to being captivated by it." Stepping out of his embrace, she chanced to give Thomas a flirty smile from over her shoulder as she laughed up at him. "Excuse me, Thomas, for I must put my attention on business. My father has asked me to look over the transactions we've had today. As you know, I have an affinity for numbers and often help him with his accounting."
"Shall I assist you with it?"
"Only if you please. This will take me but a moment." She scanned down the dealings that had occurred so far for the day, committing each sale to memory so she might recount them later to her father.
As the daughter of Robert McIntosh—one of Fort Union's partners—she had unconsciously made herself into a business asset when her father had discovered she could memorize a page of numbers quickly and remember them again at will. And so, according to her father, her talents were to be kept within the family of traders, thus her upcoming marriage to Thomas, who, though a young man, was already a junior partner in this business. Of course, his family had helped obtain his status, for they had financed this fort in part, as well as the trading post, Fort William.
Although one could argue her upcoming marriage was one of convenience, she believed this was not entirely true. She had fallen under Thomas' spell almost from the first moment she'd met him. His fine manners and his tall, good looks had combined to urge her to say "yes" to his proposal of marriage. That her father had encouraged her to wed Thomas had also swayed her decision, for the marriage would tie their families financially.
Her mother had been silent concerning her daughter's upcoming marriage. True, she had shown no negative emotions, though there had been no positive encouragement, either.
Her younger sister, Amelia, was, of course, excited about the upcoming marriage. But, Amelia was young and her nature tended to be naïve at best, and, in truth, she was prone to question very little in life.
Laylah sighed, thinking back to the two young Blackfoot men. Untamed they might be, but it had been a crowning feather in her father's cap that he had convinced the Blackfeet to come to Fort Union to trade; especially since the Blackfeet held the reputation for being the most feared tribe of Indians on the plains. Of course, the Blackfoot men had objected at first, for they hadn't wished to make the long journey to Fort Union. Yet, here they were.
She frowned. It was hard not to notice the two Blackfoot men, since both were young and handsome in an exotic and uncultivated way. But, she put thoughts about them from her mind. Good-looking though they might be, they were still Indian, and, therefore, dangerous.
Besides, she would never see them again. On this thought, she put her speculations to rest and, having committed the page of numbers to memory, turned around to hug her fiancé.
****
EAGLE HEART DESPAIREDof ever coming to know what had happened to his brother. No one at the fort seemed to remember seeing a man who looked much like Eagle Heart, himself. Yet, he couldn't be certain what these people said, since it was almost impossible to communicate to the whites. Why no one at this fort had learned the language used everywhere on the plains—the language of gestures—was a mystery.
He wished he could make inquiries of the other Indians at the fort, for they were familiar with the gesture language. But, he couldn't. These other Indians—the Crows and Assiniboines—were his traditional enemies. Not that he was afraid of them. It was simply that, being enemies, they were honor-bound to lie to him.
Somehow he would have to make himself understood by these white men. There was no other way.
So, it was to this end, he stepped into the room used for trade. It was a sunshiny day in this month of "the leaves falling," and, while a part of him hoped She-steals-my-breath, the beautiful white woman, might be present, another part of him dismissed her from his thoughts. She could mean nothing to him. With a force of will, he put her out of his mind.
Yet, as he stepped up to the trading counter, he saw that she stood on the white man's side of the table. Looking up, she stared straight at him, and, though it was forbidden for a Blackfoot woman to face him so boldly, he was yet reminded how beautiful a pair of green eyes could be....
****
"MR. LARPENTEUR, I BELIEVEhe is asking you for information about either his friend or his brother. I'm not certain which it is."
The trader frowned down at her. However, she didn't flinch. "How do you know dees, Mademoiselle?"
"My father," she said, glancing downward, "hired an older Indian gentleman from one of the Eastern tribes to instruct both me and my younger sister on this language of gestures. He insisted on our learning it before we were allowed to make this trip into the North Country. He said if anything bad ever happened to us, we would at least be able to make ourselves understood. Shall I ask this man what it is he is seeking?"
"Oui, Mademoiselle."
She nodded and, inhaling deeply, brought her right hand up to ask the Indian, "Question, who is it you are seeking?"
"Halt!" he said in gestures, bringing his right hand up, instead of down, for emphasis. "I do not speak to women." He added a frown and looked so sternly at her, she felt faint in reaction.
But, she didn't faint. Instead, she gulped and, looking down and away from him, signed, "No one here speaks the language of gestures. If you wish to be understood you will have to communicate to either me or my younger sister. If you prefer to talk to my sister, I will fetch her."
She chanced a quick glance up at this man who towered over her.Why, he must be over six feet tall.He was also outrageously handsome in a wild sort of way: black, straight hair, which was decorated with a single feather hung from a braid on the right side of his face; it was his only hair ornament. He had pulled a portion of his bangs forward and had cut them so a part of them fell down over the center of his forehead, as seemed to be the custom in this untamed land.
He still wore the handsome, white clothing she had seen him wear a few days previously, and up close she could see and admire the blue, white and yellow circle sewn onto his shirt. It was placed in the middle of the buckskin clothing, was level with his chest and looked to be made of porcupine quills, as well as beads. Rows of colorfully sewn porcupine quills of the same colors decorated the outer portion of his sleeves, while white fringe, situated next to the porcupine quills, draped from those same sleeves. She noted that some of the fringe was also composed of black hair. She shivered to think of the reason why this kind of hair ornamented his shirt.
Fierce though he might be, there was an unknown quality about him that drew her to him. His eyes were black, his nose straight and slightly aquiline, but not overly so. His lips were full, and the color of his skin was tan, not red, though there might have been a slight tint of red running beneath the outer layer of his skin. He wore no paint as did most of the Indians here at the post. This observation eased her nerves a little, for she had heard it said that the Indians painted themselves only when going to war.
Still, she shivered at the thought of any man having to go to war with an Indian like this.
But, he was answering her question, and she gave his hand gestures her full attention. He said, "I see I have startled you. There is no threat or insult meant to you; rather, a man should not speak to a woman who is not his wife. To do so abuses her standing with her people and can cause a man's woman to be jealous, also."
"You are married, then?" Laylah signed, then gulped and looked away from him. Why had she asked him this?
