CHAPTER SIX
"Marry you?" Czanna jerked up her head. She had been staring down into her lap, ashamed of herself; she had tried to use what she knew about hiring servants as a means by which to gain this proud man's cooperation. She had done this without first acquiring the knowledge of what he considered valuable.
But, marriage?
How could she ever marry him? He was Indian, while she… She was of the aristocratic, gentry class in Hungary. Indeed, though he was quite handsome, as well as heroic in coming to her family's aid, he was obviously not her equal. Indeed, they were worlds apart.
Yet, as she gazed at Stands Strong across the short distance between them, she was reminded of where she was: she was no longer in Hungary, and whatever had been accepted there was not necessarily so here. Indeed, she had to put her considerations and prejudices behind her. That is, she would have to do so if she were to make a new life here.
Still, marriage…?
She had always thought she would marry a man from her own culture, or at least from a society closely related to it. Indeed, if she were to marry a man so utterly foreign to her, mightn't she be in danger of losing the essence of who she was?
She, who had thus far lived her life in luxury, would be reduced to a mere circumference of a tepee, or worse, as her living quarters. To be sure, she would be required to do the work expected of a woman within his tribe,and she knew these to be demeaning jobs, tasks only fit for a servant. She might even be required to convert to his religion, a circumstance she could never agree to.
Make no mistake, to marry him would require her to put the noble way of life forever behind her. True, her brother had forced her to vow to never return to Hungary. Plus, he had instructed her to make a new life for herself in the American West. But, she doubted he would have ever considered she should willingly become an Indian man's wife.
As she gazed at Stands Strong, this man who was truly her only friend in a world of unknown fears, she was presented with an acute and terrible problem: she could not marry him, if for no other reason than their situations in life were so different. Yet, if this be what he required of her in order to give his allegiance to her, dare she not marry him?
Czanna gazed up at this man again but found she was staring at the top of his head; his eyes were centered downward. Indeed, he appeared to be patiently awaiting her response.
However, instead of answering him directly, she asked, "Mr. Stands Strong, I know you like me well enough, or you wouldn't have made me one of the women in your life. But, why marriage? Do you love me?"
Raising his head, Stands Strong stared directly into her eyes as he said, "I desire to have you as my wife."
"Yes, I understand this," said Czanna. "But, this is not an answer to my question: do you love me?"
She thought he might again back away from answering her directly, but instead he surprised her when he said, "I would like to make love to you. No true man will continue to pretend friendship with a woman when he desires to take her to his sleeping couch."
Stunned at his open honesty, Czanna couldn't account for the instantaneous and powerful flames of carnal sensation that rushed through her. Moreover, an image of her being held in Stands Strong's arms and accepting his kisses flitted through her mind.And, without willing it to happen, a cascade of fire was even now surging through her bloodstream, creating a desire within her to come in close to him…very close to him.
Did she secretly wish for this man's embrace?
Surely not. But, if this were not true, why did every sense within her so unexpectedly yearn to scoot in close to him, and there to urge him to hold her, to touch her?
Clearing her throat, she tried to put these thoughts out of her mind and contemplate, instead, what could possibly be her response to his declaration. At length, however, she decided she had not a single idea of what to say, and so she remained silent.
But, her silence was not going to aid her cause in securing this man's cooperation for his assistance, especially when he wasn't helping her with the dilemma of how to respond to his proposal. Indeed, he didn't utter another word. Looking downward, he was clearly awaiting her answer.
Knowing she would have to give him a reply, and soon, she first needed to discover an important fact of Indian life, a detail which might give her the means to gently say no.
"Mr. Stands Strong," she began, "I am told Indian men might take more than one wife. Are you already married?"
"I am not," he answered without hesitation. But, then he asked, "Are you?"
"I…I am not," she replied. "But, my God and my religion do not allow a man to have more than one wife, and I could never marry you if you already have or might intend taking another wife besides me. Knowing this, do you still wish to marry me?"
He inhaled deeply, glanced up at her and said, "My almost-mother is white, as are two of my aunties. I know well their beliefs. I know also their husbands honor their religion and their God, as I would, too. If we were to marry, I would take no other woman as my wife."
She sighed. Oh dear, there was to be no easy way out of declining his proposal. But, decline it she must, if only because their positions in life were so very ill-matched.
And so, she said, "Mr. Stands Strong, of all the men I have ever known in this country, I like you best of all. But, your proposal comes at a difficult time in my life. Please let me explain: on this very day when we met one another, there at the cliffs, I had only learned of the deaths of my beloved elder brother, my father and my mother. They were killed in a terrible manner back in my homeland of Hungary; they were hanged by the neck, though they were innocent of the charges made against them."
Swallowing down the instant urge to tears, she continued and said, "The morning when you found me, I was singing and praying to God. I felt then, and still do, so deeply grieved, I knew I could not go on with what my brother had charged me to do for my family. And yet, I had to keep on, for my younger brother's sake and for my little sister's. This was why I had walked so far in the dark of the early morning. I didn't know what to do; I was only aware of the need to try to let go of my pain by saying goodbye to my brother, my mother and my father. And so, I sang as best l could, using the song as a means to ask the Lord to keep them safe. Forgive me, but I am not yet over their loss."
He inclined his head. "It is hard to lose those one loves."
"Yes, it is, and thank you. But, my situation grows worse. I now fear we may have lost Mr. Henrik, too. He was my father's manservant, and my brother charged him with the duty to take us to our cousin here in Indian Country. But, the man he had hired whom we had met at Fort Benton—a Mr. Hanson—to scout for us, and who was to lead us into the mountains, robbed us by stealing all the coin Mr. Henrik had given him. And, I am told this robber left us in the middle of the night while I was gone. Mr. Henrik then went after this scout who is now part of the gold seekers' circle of friends.
