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But the fact that he was presenting her as someone special—as someone who had saved him—made her feel ashamed. His father was dead because of her father. What a travesty she was acting out! What a sham!
Having no choice but to do as he asked, no matter how torn she was inside over being there in the presence of so many that had died because of her dreadful father, Mariah knelt beside Echohawk, her eyes wavering, her heart pounding.
“I cannot see, but on my father’s grave marker should be emblazoned his ranks and achievements,” he said, reaching to run his fingers across the engraved letterings. “Also there should be three black emblems posted there, representing the three scalps that he had taken from evil white men.”
He doubled his hand into a fist and his jaw tightened angrily. “Soon I will present my father with, not one more scalp, but four. The scalp of the evil white man who led the recent raid, that of the young lad who rode with the raiding party, the renegade Sioux White Wolf’s scalp, and that of the man with yellow eyes who also took much from me, even my heart! Someday, somehow, these scalps will sway in the wind from my father’s grave post!”
Mariah grabbed at her stomach, suddenly ill, Echohawk’s warnings reaching clean to her soul, for although he did not know it, her scalp was one of those he sought!
“Please take me back to your village,” she said, stumbling quickly to her feet. She grabbed at Echohawk as he rose quickly beside her. “I . . . I . . . feel ill, Echohawk. I . . . need to lie down.”
Echohawk placed his hands to her shoulders and steadied her. “Speaking of scalps was unpleasant to you, and unwise of me for being so thoughtless,” he said gently. “I am sorry, No-din. It was not my intention to upset you.”
“Echohawk, it’s not so much that,” Mariah said, sighing deeply. “I . . . I just never thought you could be capable of . . . of scalping. That is a savage act. You are anything but savage!”
“Killing innocent Chippewa is savage!” he defended hotly.
He spun away from her and began working his way down the side of the hill. When Mariah saw his feet slip, endangering him, she ran to him and placed her hand at his elbow, which he just as quickly wrenched away from her.
“I did not mean to use the word ‘savage,’” she tried to explain. “And I did not use it to describe you, Echohawk. Only the act of scalping.”
“Many white people have referred to the Indians as savages,” Echohawk grumbled, walking steadily downward. “They should look in mirrors more often! They then would see who is the true savage!”
Not to be dissuaded, and not wanting him to stay angry at her, Mariah grabbed his hand and would not give up her hold when he tried to jerk it free. She forced him to stop and turn to her. “I’m sorry, Echohawk,” she murmured. “Please forgive me? I would never do anything to hurt you, nor your feelings. I . . . I think too much of you and your people. Have I not proved this to you by staying instead of going on to Fort Snelling?”
“I have wondered about this decision of yours,” Echohawk said, his voice wary. “But of course you know that. I have voiced this aloud to you more than once.”
“Then why question it again?” she murmured, her pulse racing as she moved closer to him. “Echohawk, we have found something special between us. Please, let’s not do anything to jeopardize it.”
Echohawk reached his free hand out to her, placing it on her cheek. “Ay-uh, there is something special between us,” he said hoarsely. “But before it grows any stronger, there is much I must resolve inside my heart. Also, yourself. Do you not have much troubling you, that you have not spoken aloud to me? I have felt it in the hesitation of your voice at times.”
Mariah’s face paled at the thought that he might be astute enough to catch her moods, which she had tried to keep hidden from him.
“But of course I have been torn about many things of late,” she murmured. “I am eighteen and I have just left home. Would you not feel somewhat unsettled were it you having made such a decision about family? I have separated myself from all of my life as I have known it. I have found a different way of life with your people—and am dismayed that I am able to accept it so easily, even enjoy it. So do you see why you felt my moods? Echohawk, I have not learned how to master them. Perhaps I never shall.”
“Nor have I, mine,” he said, in his mind’s eye recalling so many things of his past that were gone from him forever. A wife. An unborn child. A mother. And now a father. “I, too, have things to resolve within my mind and heart. And I plan to resolve some of them today.”
He stepped closer to Mariah and framed her face between his hands, drawing her lips to his. “You are so much what I desire in a woman,” he whispered against her lips. “This is a part of what I must find answers to today. I will return you to my village and then I shall leave again, to go and commune, alone, with the Great Spirit. He will guide me. He knows everything about everything. He rules over all.”
His mouth covered Mariah’s lips with a gentle kiss that left her weak. She drew a ragged breath when he drew away from her, her eyes filled with a soft wonder.
* * *
Mariah sat in Nee-kah’s wigwam, trying to be an alert student as Nee-kah explained about the storage of food, but her mind kept wandering to Echohawk. He had been gone into the depths of the forest for several hours. The sky had just darkened into night, wolves baying at the full moon an eerie sound in the distance.
“No-din, the meat from the deer should be sliced up thin and hung up to dry in the sun,” Nee-kah said, quite aware that Mariah’s mind was elsewhere. Her thoughts were clearly with Echohawk, who had left the village to commune with the Great Spirit. And from past experiences Nee-kah knew that Echohawk could be gone for days. As troubled as he was, he would not return until he had answers that would guide him into right decisions about his future, about his people, and about No-din.
“No-din, you break up the bones of the buffalo and boil them to get the grease out,” she explained softly, trying to reclaim Mariah’s attention. “You take the large intestine and stuff it with a long piece of meat, raw. This whole thing is then boiled and eaten . . . No-din!” Nee-kah said, moving to her knees in front of Mariah, blocking her view of the fire that she had been so intensely staring at. “Our teachings are over for the night. Let us join our people outside by the fire. They are singing. Do you not hear them? They are singing in an effort to lift the spirits of those who have recently lost so much.” She took Mariah by the hand. “Come, No-din. Let us join them. You need some uplifting yourself.”
Mariah jumped with a start, having been shaken from her reverie by Nee-kah’s determination. “What did you say?” she said, her voice lilting, her eyes wide.
“Let us join those outside by the fire,” Nee-kah urged, yanking on Mariah’s hand as she rose to her feet. “We will sing. We will be happy!”
Mariah forced a smile and went outside with Nee-kah and sat down beside the fire with the rest of the people. Yet she could not help but glance toward the forest, wondering when Echohawk would be back, and what decisions he might have reached. She prayed to herself that the Great Spirit did not give him too many answers—those that could condemn her in his eyes.
* * *
In a place of serenity, where the star
