"I…no, I—" Reverting to sign, she raised her head, looked at him and continued, repeating, "I have gifts for you." However, she didn't offer any of those gifts to him.
He nodded, then signed, "What do you have in your bag?" He pointed toward it.
"Oh yes," she said, "my bag." Then she signed, "I have brought you some presents since we must part tomorrow. It is my way of saying thank you for your kindness toward me, and also it is a gesture to ask you to please remember me."
He didn't sign or speak for several moments. Instead, he stared at her. And, it seemed to her there was very little emotion upon his countenance as he looked down upon her. At last, however, he signed, "I will not forget you. You are now in my heart. But, why must we part tomorrow?"
She raised her head and looked away from him. "Because," she signed, "tomorrow I will be reunited with my husband-to-be, and we will be leaving here to return to Fort Union, where we will marry. That is, we depart from here as soon as another steamboat is going back east. Plus, once we are back in camp, I will no longer be able to speak to you as I am now. I wish you to know that I, too, will never forget you." She glanced up at him, but if she had expected to see any emotion upon his countenance, she was to be disappointed. There was not a single feeling to be seen upon his face, he who had told her he loved her as his woman, as his wife.
Dragging the large parfleche bag from around her shoulder and out in front of her, she opened it, reached in and brought out the two different pairs of earrings she had made for him. She slowly reached out to take his hand, then dropped both sets of earrings onto his palm.
He immediately closed his fingers around the gift and her hand, and signed with his other hand, "Your thoughtfulness and your gift are appreciated. You have made my heart happy this day."
But, he didn't look happy. He didn't look emotional at all. There was nothing to be read upon his facial features.
Yet, contradictorily,shefelt something. At his touch, tiny sparks of energy cascaded up and down her nerve endings, causing her to nervously sway from one foot to the other. Even her stomach twisted; it jiggled and turned, and it even felt as if it jumped up into her throat.
There seemed to be no end to the reaction of her body to his touch, and at last, realizing the reason for it, she retrieved her hand from his. But, still she felt the effect of the contact, and, despite her best efforts not to, she shivered.
He signed, "Are you cold?"
She looked down and shook her head. Why could she not speak to this man without her heart beating so fast? And, why did she feel so awkward and girlish? And, why was she afraid of him—he, who had proved himself to be dependable?
Glancing up at him briefly, she said again in English, "But, I have more gifts for you."
When she saw him frowning at her, she realized she had once again forgotten to use the sign language. But, it didn't matter. Reaching once more into the large brightly-beaded parfleche bag she had made for him, she pulled out the black-and-white-beaded choker, the beaded belt and the buckskin sun-shield, the last two being items she had carefully beaded in blue and white. Without saying a word to him, she placed them within his hands. Then, feeling a little giddy and ridiculously timid, she started to turn away from him.
Why, for goodness sake, did she tremble at his touch?
But, he held her back by tapping her shoulder, and when she looked back at him, he nodded and smiled at her. He signed, "I am honored you have made these gifts for me. I will keep them close to my heart."
She turned around toward him, gazed up into his dark, dark eyes and felt as though she were becoming lost within his simple gaze. But, taking a deep breath, she took control over herself and signed, "I have one last gift and it is this parfleche bag. I made it so you might keep all these trinkets in it."
She held the bag out to him, and as he took it from her, his hands brushed hers. Whether he had done it deliberately or not didn't matter. Immediately, her body reacted to his touch, causing a feeling of excitement to enter into her nervous system and flood through her as though there were fire in her veins instead of blood.
Strikes Fast glanced down at her, for the top of her head was level with his shoulders. But, as she looked up at him, it was what she saw in his eyes that caused her to melt inside: there was passion within his gaze and it was directed at her. There was also hurt, hope and another look she couldn't define there within his eyes, and when he signed, "Does the man you intend to marry cause your heart to beat fast?" she looked away.
What could she say back to him? Certainly not the truth.
"Do not marry him," Strikes Fast continued in sign, "because if he does not stir desire within your heart, you might come to regret your decision."
Sharon didn't sign or say a word in response. Instead, she once more gazed away from him. She couldn't very well tell him the truth.
But, she glanced back at him when he continued to speak with gestures, and he said, "Perhaps I am the only one who feels the passion between us. But, if you experience it, too, consider this: the man you say you will marry may not be the one who will bring you happiness in marriage."
Again she stood mute before him. What could she say? She was well aware of her reaction to Strikes Fast. She was also quite conscious of what she and David had shared…had done. But, she was not about to tell her deepest thoughts to this man.
Presently, he signed, "I tell you this: I see hurt in your future life with this man, the painter. And, like the brother you would like me to be, I should warn you against this marriage."
"But, why do you warn me?" she asked.
He smiled and looked away from her. At length, however, he signed, "I do not know why Sun has given me the power He has. Sometimes it is more of a curse than a piece of good fortune. I only know I can see things other people do not."
"And, what do you see in my future?"
He shrugged. "The future has not yet happened. It is yet without substance, being only in the form of a mist. Because of this, it can always change." Taking a step toward her, he reached out to place his fingers against the pulse at her neck, and she knew, she felt, her heart was racing. She gazed up at him, and he down at her, and, against her will, her body swayed in toward him.
At the last minute, she took a step back. And, though she moved out of his reach, her body held a surprise for her: as she stood before this man, a very feminine place upon her body began to throb with a need she had never before experienced, not even with David.
