However, she was convinced that it was in Swift Hawk’s mind to woo her. She couldn’t have been as close as she had been to him without coming to this conclusion.
He meant for them to marry, and she wondered how he would court her. It brought several interesting speculations tomind. Did Indians court their women the same as the white man? Would he bring her things? Ask her brother for her hand? Dreamily, she grinned.
“Howdy, miss.”
Roused out of her imaginings, Angelia glanced down to her right to see who had come upon her.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Russell,” she said, recognizing the wagon master, Kit Russell, a gentleman perhaps in his late thirties. He had recently been elected to the position of man-in-charge of this caravan, or wagon master.
“Howdy,” he said again, tipping his hat. He was silent for a minute or two, and then, “You’re the sister of one of our scouts, ain’t ye, Miss Angelia?”
“Yes,” she responded. “Yes, I am.”
“The sister of Julian Honeywell?”
“Yes,” she replied again, daintily shrugging.
“I thought so, and forgive me, ma’am, but I need to talk to ye.” Russell hesitated in his speech, as though he might be choosing his words carefully. “It’s like this. Being a scout’s sister and all, we, that is, myself ’n’ the rest of the people on the caravan, can understand how ye don’t rightly see any difference ’tween us and them Injuns.”
Oh no. What was this? Chastisement? Had she and Swift Hawk been seen? There, by the river? Angelia’s stomach plummeted, and she swallowed hard. With her voice steady, she said, “Us and the Indians? Difference?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jerking off his hat, the wagon master rubbed his head on the back of his forearm. After shaking out his hat, he slammed it on his head and looked up at her. “There’s some folks in the wagon train that have asked me to talk to ye about your being close with them Injuns and all.”
“Close?”
“Yes, ma’am. Now the way they see it, they don’t rightly feel safe with them Injuns, though they understand the Injuns isnecessary, since they’s scouts, and we need their experience and their ability to smooth our way through the hostile territory. They’re valuable, ’cause no white man can talk to them quarrelsome tribes. But the teaching you’re doing at your fireside at night, and to a savage…it…well, it causes you to have to talk to ’em and be close to ’em, and…it’s…well, it’s…it’s not done.”
“Oh, I see, you’re talking about the lessons I’m giving to Swift Hawk in the evening. People are finding that objectionable?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Russell touched his hat, while Angelia closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. But it was short-lived, for Russell was continuing. “I guess I’ve been sent here to find out whose side you’re on.”
“Side? Are there sides?”
“Yes, there are, miss. They’s Injuns, after all, and your teachin’ ’em makes it look like you’re one of ’em.”
“Surely not. They’re lessons I’m giving, like any schoolchild would receive.”
“With all due respect, ma’am, I realize that. It’s just that…the way it looks…”
“But the Indians are here to help you, and the train.”
“Don’t matter. Not out here. An Injun, though he’s necessary, has to be constantly watched. No one trusts ’em.”
What an odd viewpoint to have in a country where one had to rely on Indians. “But these are friendly Indians. They’re helping you.”
“Don’t matter.”
She shook her head. “I see.”
“That’s good. That’s good.” Russell exhaled deeply, as though this conversation had been more of an ordeal than confronting the devil himself. “It’s understandable, your confusion and all. You probably reason that them Injuns think just like us. But they don’t. Truth is, me and the others, we fearfor ye. And as wagon master, I gotta see to your safety.”
“I understand,” she said. “Tell me, Mr. Russell, do you and the others fear for me, or are you upset with me?”
“Pshaw.” He looked puzzled. “Both?”
“Ah, both.”
“Beggin’ pardon, ma’am, but yes. Now the way me and the others see it, them Injuns is all alike, even the friendly ones. And we all knows any Injun ain’t a compassionate soul. Naw, they’s all bloodthirsty savages, who’d sooner kill ye than parley with ye. And it just ain’t safe.” He inhaled deeply. “It just ain’t safe.”
