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Kaylene took a last look at John, then turned, and walked back toward Fire Thunder’s lodge. Just as she got there, a woman arrived, carrying two pots of food into the cabin.
Kaylene went inside. She thanked the woman as she waddled past her, to leave.
Absently, Kaylene peered into the pots. Venison ribs filled one of them. Purple corn the other.
And even though it had been a while since she had eaten, she felt no hunger.
There were too many things on her mind. Most prominent of all, her wish that Fire Thunder loved her enough to understand her need to find answers to the questions that were eating away at her insides.
“He has to understand,” she whispered. “God above, if not, what shall I do? I can’t bear the thought of possibly losing him! Yet, how can I forget what Dawnmarie told me about not waiting too long? One never knows if they will see tomorrow!”
When Fire Thunder entered the lodge with White Wolf, she gazed at him with a sadness she did not want to feel.
When he came and embraced her, it was sheer heaven. No, she could never do anything that might cause her to lose him.
And yes, she understood Running Fawn’s reason for risking all by meeting the man she loved!
Chapter 21
The hours I spent with thee, dear heart,
Are as a string of pearls to me.
—ROBERT CAMERON ROGERS
It was now the fourth day of the Kickapoo’s New Year Clan Festival. Fire Thunder and his people felt uniquely blessed this year, for a heavy rain, with much lightning, fell over the village on the first day of the festival. This signified that the thunderers had taken special pains to notify them. It was as though they themselves had come to tell the people the festival could begin.
As soon as the lightning from the four directions had been seen, the warriors, following Fire Thunder’s lead, had gone into the monte to chant and offer Indian tobacco to the thunderers, thanking them for the message that the New Year had arrived.
On this fourth day of the festival, everyone was gathered in the Thunder Bundle House, a building made of split logs, with a tree-bark roof. The music from many drums and gourd rattles was rhythmically soft. The people sat around a great fire in the firepit, quiet and meditative.
Kaylene was proud to be among them. She wore a low-swept cotton blouse and fully gathered skirt that Running Fawn had loaned her for the special occasion. She wore flowers in her hair.
Kaylene gazed at Fire Thunder as he sat with the other warriors, and saw how handsome he was today—even more so than usual. He wore a spanking-new buckskin outfit and beautifully beaded moccasins that a distant cousin had made for him for this special occasion.
Kaylene sat with Dawnmarie on a bench. Little Sparrow sat with the children, all eyes, as she watched the continuing activity of the New Year festival.
Kaylene looked slowly around the group of people, her heart sinking when she realized that Running Fawn wasn’t there. To add insult to injury, as far as her people were concerned, she had slipped out and was not observing the special ceremonies.
It was apparent to Kaylene that Running Fawn had felt that her father would be too involved in the festival to notice her absence.
Thus far, Kaylene felt that perhaps Running Fawn had been right. At this moment Black Hair seemed all absorbed in the rituals of the day.
“I find this all so wonderfully interesting,” Dawnmarie whispered as she leaned closer to Kaylene. “It is wonderful to be among my people in this way.”
“Do you understand the meaning behind what the warriors are doing?” Kaylene whispered back to her.
“Some,” Dawnmarie said, gazing at Kaylene. “My mother told me much about my people when I was growing up. She hoped that I would one day be among them. She felt it important that I know as much about their customs as possible.”
“It is a miracle that you happened to arrive at such an important time,” Kaylene murmured, silently admiring Dawnmarie’s snow-white doeskin dress embellished with lovely beadwork.
And she could not help but be taken by the color of Dawnmarie’s eyes. She understood why White Wolf called her Violet Eyes. Never had Kaylene seen eyes so violet in color.
“It was the work of Kitzhiat, the Kickapoo great spirit, that led me and my husband here at this moment in time,” Dawnmarie said, smiling warmly at Kaylene.
“I hope to understand everything about your people one day,” Kaylene said. “One thing in particular has been on my mind that I would like to know.”
“What is it?” Dawnmarie said softly.
