"Was I screaming again?" asked Briella.
"Yes, Mistress, you were."
Briella groaned before she sat up and glanced around the room she had grown up in since the age of seven. Somehow, the familiar and beloved furnishings calmed her mind.
With the walls decorated in white with red, blue and pink accents, the room was a study in two different cultures. While the walls were made of sturdy cottonwood, the wood was painted white to give the room a more feminine appearance. A tan Navajo woolen rug with triangular designs of deep blue and various shades of red and orange covered the wooden floor from one end of the room to the other.
Her sturdy wooden bed sat in the middle of the room, and at the head of the bed was a strong, though beautifully carved, wooden bedpost, the top of which was sculpted with an angeldelicately carved there at the highest center point of the board. Rising up at the foot of the bed sat another artistically carved angel who appeared to be always watching over her. However, though the bed frame was large and strong, the bed, itself, was girlish, with the bedspread flaunting a delicate lacy skirt all around its perimeter.
Glancing to her left, Briella saw the two south-facing windows, and she watched as the white lacy curtains blew in and out with the slight breeze in the air. Although these curtains covered the windows, they were delicate enough to allow the sun to penetrate into the room. More substantial blue and pinkish-red curtains hung at each side of these two windows, while a wide valance in the same colors hung down over the top of each window.
Above the bed, a small and white lacy canopy hung from a large wooden square hammered securely into the ceiling. The canopy didn't descend down to the bed, and, looking up at it, Briella was reminded of all the times when, as a child, she had envisioned upon those pieces of cloth images of the direction her life might take—a life that had included Red Fox ever since the day she had first met him.
Refusing to think about the mess her life was now in, Briella brought her gaze toward one of her bedside tables, which was constructed of the same wood as the frame of her bed, and upon each table next to the bed sat a kerosene lamp. A rocking chair with a bookshelf nearby it held several books for reading, while another chair with a pot hanging down from its center sat in a corner of the room for her convenience, especially used for those nights when one didn't dare venture out to the necessary.
The fireplace was across the room from her bed, and, at present, its fire was little more than ashes due to the heat of the day.
It was a lush room which had been built to accommodate the only child in the household at the time, her elder brother having left to seek his fortune in New York City, while her other brother, George, and her elder sister, Czanna, lived with the Pikuni Indians.
At present, Briella's lady's maid, Parisa, stood beside her bed, and, bending over, she reached down to feel Briella's forehead. Then, straightening up, her lady's maid said, "I do not feel a fever, Mistress. Was it the same nightmare as you have had this past week?"
"Yes, I fear it is so." Briella stretched her arms over her head. "Please, could you bring me the container of water we keep on the dresser?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Parisa came up to her feet and paced across the room, then back again.
Briella smiled at this friend who was her maid, then said, "Thank you, Miss Hood."
Parisa grinned. "Pardon, ma'am, but I should like it very much if you would call me simply, Parisa. Most people do."
"Ah, Parisa, I am so glad you have told me this. I do like the ring of this name better than the more formal Miss Hood. Parisa… The name is unpretentious, just like this western land."
"Yes, ma'am."
Their conversation paused for a moment as Briella took a drink of the fresh river water, obtained from the grand Marias River this very day. At last, Parisa asked, "Would you like me to help you to dress to go down to breakfast? Or do you wish to lay in bed a little longer?"
"I would like nothing more than to lay abed for the next year or so, but I fear I must…since there is no fever…arise and prepare to meet the day, as gloomy as it might be."
"But, Mistress, the sun is shining this morning, and it looks to be a beautiful day."
"Is it?"
"Indeed, it is, Mistress. Tell me, is it because of your dream that you wish to stay abed?"
"Perhaps," answered Briella.
"Would you like to tell it to me?"
"No, Parisa, but I thank you for asking." Briella paused for a moment. "Oh, if only I hadn't had to go to the city of New York. I fear my life changed there in a way that is not part of my nature. And yet, all I have done I have had to do so I might return here, to my home."
"I know what you say is true," said Parisa. "Although, if you hadn't come to New York, I would never have met you, and had I not met you, I would even now be working in a factory mill all day long. As it is, I am here with you and enjoying becoming more acquainted with this land known as the Indian Territory. Every chance I get, I leave the ranch to do little more than gaze at the countryside."
"Yes, there is no other land like this," replied Briella. "You will love it even more the longer you stay here. But, now I fear I am out of excuses for staying abed, and after these past few days of barely eating any food at all, I find I am hungry. I suppose I had best arise and get dressed so I can mosey on down to the dining room, where I hope to see the cook might have prepared a good helping of buffalo steak."
"Then, you would like to dine there instead of in your room today?"
"Yes," said Briella. "It is time for me to face my ghosts, or rather my fiancé and his mistress."
