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“I don’t believe it was the color so much as Brian Brave Walker’s physical attributes,” Dancing Cloud mumbled. “Surely if the man had any guilt whatsoever about the havoc he wreaked during the war against the children of our village, seeing Brian Brave Walker could be the same as looking at those children his horse ran down, or his bullets pierced.”
Lauralee looked quickly at Dancing Cloud. “Darling, you have spoken so often of your people as full-blooded Cherokee, and your pride of that,” she said, her voice guarded. “Have you ever stopped to think about the children we might have? They would not be full-bloods. How would you feel about having a son with white skin, instead of copper?”
Dancing Cloud gave her a sudden, stunned look, as if someone had splashed cold water onto his face. Like a thunderbolt inside his mind the remembrance of that day in the spirit world with his father came to him, and what his father had said to him about children. He had forgotten the warning, until now.
He stared at Lauralee a moment longer, then rose quickly from the chair and went and stood at the open door. He clasped his hand so tightly to the door, his knuckles were rendered white.
He thought back to that day with his father in the spirit world. James Talking Bear had reminded him that this woman to whom he had given his heart was white. If she had children born of their union, the child could be white.
Never before had mixed bloods lived among his Wolf Clan of Cherokee. Never before had any of their braves married a white woman.
This was the first for his people.
Only briefly after Dancing Cloud had discovered that he loved Lauralee had he stopped to consider the consequences of marrying her. And all through these weeks of other more pressing issues he had forgot to worry about the skin color of a child born of his and Lauralee’s love.
Lauralee came to him and took his hand. “Dancing Cloud, what is it?” she murmured. “Tell me what’s wrong. You’re frightening me.”
“I want children,” he said, turning slow eyes to her. “But white-skinned?”
She went cold inside. Fear grabbed at her heart. What if he changed his mind about marrying her? What if he sent her away?
Again he turned his eyes from her and peered out the door, at the throng of people who were kneeling around a large outdoor fire not that far from his cabin. They were now quiet, in a soft communion with the Great Spirit. It was as though even they knew that Soft Wind was taking her last breaths.
Dancing Cloud felt suddenly guilty for thinking of what color children he and his woman might bring into the world, when one of his very own people would soon enter the spirit path of the hereafter.
“Darling Cherokee,” Lauralee murmured. “I know you too well to allow what you have said worry me any further. You know, as well as I, that the color of our children will not matter. Even if it means that we will bring the first mixed-blood into your people’s lives, it will be a child who is loved . . . who is revered, because it will be the child born of an intense love, the first child of your people’s chief. ”
She sighed heavily. “I still am not your wife,” she said, feeling selfish to even think about that at this time.
“Soon,” Dancing Cloud said. He took her hands and drew her around to face him. “Soft Wind is dying. When our mourning for her is behind us, we will speak words of togetherness. We will have brought Brian Brave Walker into our circle of life. We will then look toward a future of our very own children, be they white, or copper-skinned.”
“Oh, darling, I knew that you would never allow such a thing as skin coloring or bloodlines stand between our happiness,” Lauralee said, easing into his arms. “And I promise you, Dancing Cloud, that we will have many beau-tifu1 children.”
“There is something more I wish to do,” Dancing Cloud said, gazing down at her.
“Yes? What is it?” Lauralee asked, searching his eyes.
“I have recently learned about an orphanage that lies only a half day’s ride from the base of my mountain,” he said hoarsely.
“Yes, I believe I know the orphanage. It was a topic of conversation many times among those of us who were in the orphanage in Saint Louis. It was built only a few years ago. The orphanage where I was raised donated a good sum of money to get this newest one established. I remember talking among the girls at our orphanage about whether or not those at the new one fared better than we did at ours.”
“There may be small children there from Cherokee villages where there is much starvation among their people because of white people’s interference in their lives. White people who stole their land and their livestock,” he said thickly. “Let us go there soon. Perhaps we might find a child or two to bring back with us to be Brian Brave Walker’s brother or sister?”
Lauralee stared up at him, stunned by his suggestion. She was torn with how she should feel. If he brought more orphaned children to his house to father, would this give him an excuse to ask her not to bear children of their own whose skin might not match his?
“Do you mind, my o-ge-ye, if we go soon and see if there are Cherokee children who need family and loving?” he said, his voice filled with an anxious hope. “While you have sat at Soft Wind’s bedside those long hours I have thought of what a sad life she had. Like you, she witnessed the death of her mother. Not only her mother. Her whole family. She was wrenched from her home and placed in an orphanage. Then she lived a hellish life with Clint McCloud.”
He stopped and nervously cleared his throat. “While you saw to Soft Wind’s needs these past days I have thought hard and long about other Cherokee children whose destiny is colored by sadness because they are in orphanages. An orphanage must be the loneliest of places. But of course you know that it is.”
Feeling selfish and guilty for having thought that Dancing Cloud had motives other than what he said, to bring more children into their home, Lauralee leaned into his embrace. He had not just thought up taking in more orphans after thinking about bringing a mixed-blood child into this world that was born of his and Lauralee’s love. He had been thinking about the orphaned Cherokee children for days!
“My sweet, gentle Cherokee,” she said, tears streaming from her eyes. “Your heart is so big. Your heart is so good. Yes, my beloved, I will go with you to the orphanage. I will take within my arms as many children that will fill them.”
She clung to him. “If you wish, we can even delay our wedding day awhile longer so that we can go and get the children,” she murmured.
“I knew that you would say that,” Dancing Cloud said.
“I only wish that I had known about Soft Wind, where she had b
