CHAPTER FOUR
The party was in full swing. Though the evening was overly warm, the musicians had set up their white man's song makers—fiddles, guitars and a bass—on a platform out of doors. It was evening. The dance tonight was a welcoming party for the members of the fire-canoe-that-walks-on-water, the party being held in honor of its arrival.
The days were still long now in the moon of Home Days, the sun having not yet set this day, though the hour was late. Unfortunately, the white man's "crazy water" flowed all too easily here tonight, and many of the Indian warriors, as well as most of the fort's engagées, had imbibed too much. Gray Falcon could only hope no fights would result from the free-flowing liquor.
Such ill-behavior was not his way, nor was it the path of his friend, Eagle Heart. By the very nature of who they were, their direction in life was different from most. True, as healers, they were admired by many others within their tribe, but their position also came with a price, for a strict code of conduct governed them. This conduct included no use of alcohol nor other similar temptations.
Indeed, the only reason Gray Falcon was here at all was to seeher. And, he was not disappointed.
She seemed to be the center of attention, and it appeared she was enjoying the fort's several male engagées who were treating her as though she were a goddess. Indeed, there was not a man here tonight who wasn't lingering upon every word she spoke. Gray Falcon heard her laugh as she placed a fan against her face and smiled up at one of the men.
Glancing away from her momentarily, he saw the other white woman and recognized her as the friend with whom A'sitápi had journeyed here by boat. But, as the other woman's attention was centered upon the white man who accompanied her, and, with the engagées, apparently seeing this and acknowledging it, they were focusing their attentions solely on A'sitápi.
Watching A'sitápi , Gray Falcon couldn't help but wonder if she were truly in love with him, as she declared herself to be. How could she be in love with one man while encouraging other men to admire her?
And, why did it now bother him that she might not love him as greatly as she declared? He frowned, not wishing to explore this thought. Perhaps it was as he had supposed it might be, and she was only infatuated with him.
Yet, it was a surprise to observe how womanly she had become. Of course, he had always thought she might blossom into a very pretty woman. But, he hadn't realized how the beauty of her form would affect the general male population, himself included. No wonder several men in the town of St. Louis had asked for her hand in marriage.
Indeed, he had never seen any woman look more beautiful than she did this night. The green dress she wore emphasized her every curve. And, she possessed many curves in her figure, and in all the right places.
Her complexion was clear, and she was, at present, smiling. Even though it was evening, the sun was still well centered in the western sky, and he could see her well enough to know her eyes looked green tonight. This, he knew, was because she was wearing the color of green. Her eye color had always intrigued him, for it often changed its hue depending on what she was wearing.
Her nose was dainty, not overly long, and was turned up slightly at its end. Her cheeks were high and a little tinted with the same color as the wild rose. Her lips were full, her teeth white and straight and he was beginning to feel as if he didn't really know her at all.
He watched as one of the men from the fort asked her for a dance. He looked on as she accepted his offer and allowed the man to take her hand and then hold her as they stepped in time to the music along with the other dancers. And, though he knew this was the white man's manner of showing his enjoyment of the music, it didn't mean he liked what he saw.
Perhaps he should have taken the time to learn these particular dance steps that allowed a man to touch a woman and hold her—and to do it in a place for all eyes to see. It would have been simple enough to have learned the dance. Then, maybe, he might have asked her to enjoy being swept into his arms, and he wouldn't be standing in the shadows of Fort McKenzie, wishing he were the one she favored.
Was he jealous? Not possible. She and he were not now, nor had they ever been, a "romantic concern" to have caused jealousy to raise its ugly head within him.
Still, he frowned, remembering his completely masculine and physical reaction to her earlier today. The memory caused him to further speculate about the unspoken bond between them. She was, after all, the spark which had opened up the world of the medicine man's mind-to-mind speak to him. Indeed, they were tied to each other, but why?
He couldn't answer the question, but this he did know: what had brought them together was not sexual. It never had been.
It was, however, unusual for a Pikuni man to strike up a close friendship with a woman who was not his wife, since, in his tribal world, men and women did not nurture friendships outside of their marriage partner.
He frowned again as he watched her twirl around the dancing area, and he wondered yet again how she could have let that man place his arms around her while she professed to lovehim? Was sheipasskata'pssi?A flirtatious woman?
She could be. The thought was not pleasant. Was he to now add the teasing of men to her other unsuitable habit of speaking her mind?
But, he realized he didn't have to watch her in the arms of another man. He was free to leave. And, he would do so now.
Pushing himself away from the fort's wall, he quickly and purposefully walked toward the gate that separated his people's encampment from the white man's fort. There was another celebration happening in the Pikuni encampment tonight. Perhaps he would attend it instead; maybe he might even dance there.
But, as he paced out of the fort, his thoughts were centered on her, and he recalled earlier today when he had held her closely against him. In his mind's eye, he saw again the beauty of her face, the mystery of her eyes and the rounded symmetry of her womanly figure. Immediately, his body responded to the memory.
He shifted his attention to the environment, allowing his immediate masculine response to cool. Never would he have imagined he would have experienced such a manly reaction to the girl whom he had once nicknamed "Annoying-young-person."
Apparently, his body possessed a mind of its own, especially since he was well aware she was here to either marry him once and for all—if she could convince him to ask her—or to throw him away. At least, this was his understanding based on their mind-speak from a few months ago.
But, upon further consideration, he wondered what she intended to do here. Did she have it in mind to seduce him? Unfortunately for him, if she did, she would have little trouble in doing so.
And, therein lay a problem. She was white. He was Indian and was also a medicine man, although he had yet to prove himself as a healer. She didn't understand his life; he didn't understand hers. It was not right that he should feel sexually stimulated by her; he should particularly not be entertaining the thought of capturing her for the night and taking her to his lodge. Yet, the physical desire to do just that was almost impossible to ignore.
This desire for her was also forbidden to him since he had not changed his mind about her unsuitability as a marriage partner. Yet, again the yearning to take her in his arms and make love to her was causing his body, even now, to react in a way he seemed unable to control.
What was he to do about her? Much as he might like the idea of lying with her without the problem of marriage, he could not.Hánnia,as an upcoming man of medicine, he was not free to steal her, nor to make love to her—not without her agreement to become his woman.
