“I have no idea. If she can’t go back to her family, which sounds reasonable,” particularly knowing that she would be blamed for killing Napayshni and the Crow would seek revenge if she went back to her village, “I don’t know where to take her.”

“Are you in love with her?” Luc asked him bluntly.

“I don’t even know her,” Jean answered. It wasn’t entirely true. They had been meeting for several weeks, but he didn’t know her well enough to love her. They couldn’t even talk to each other. “I just did her a favor, getting her out.”

“She says she’s your slave now,” Luc informed him.

“I don’t need a slave,” Jean answered quietly. “I don’t even have a house. All I have is a horse, and a bunch of maps. I suppose I could take her to my cousins in New Orleans and leave her there. Maybe she’ll want to stay at Fort St. Charles.”

“There won’t be much for her there. And she speaks no French or English, and has never been out of her village, except with the Crow. She’s never been to a town or a city. Can you imagine her in New Orleans? What would she do there?”

“I don’t know,” Jean said, running a hand through his hair. “She needed help. I didn’t think beyond that.” And in fact, they had had no other choice but to escape, as fast as they could. Both their lives were on the line, not just hers. But he didn’t say that to Luc.

“I think you should keep her,” Luc said, smiling at her. She smiled back at him in return, and told him the food had been good.

“She’s not a piece of furniture, for heaven’s sake, or an object. I can’t just ‘keep’ her. She should have a life, a husband, children, something. I can’t drag her around with me on my horse.”

“Maybe you should get a house and leave her there. She’s a bright girl, and she’s got spirit. You can tell that talking to her. She’s very brave to have been taken by the Crow, defying their chief, and trying to run away. And she says she’s not worried now. She’s with you.”

“Thank her for her faith in me. She’s more responsible for getting us here than I am. I would have gotten lost several times. She had an unfailing sense of direction. She knows the forest as though she’s been in it all her life. She never looked frightened or complained.”

“If you teach her French, you can talk to her.”

“And then what? I think I’ll take her to my cousins. I can buy her some decent clothes in St. Louis.”

“What she’s wearing is more than decent. Everything about it says that she’s a chief’s daughter. The beading, the quills, the beads on her moccasins.”

“I don’t think my cousins in New Orleans will understand that. If I take her there, I need to buy her proper gowns. My cousin’s wife, Angélique, is extremely proper.” There was a quiet dignity about Wachiwi, and a grace, that anyone would notice and have to respect. Angélique had been born in Paris, and was a distant cousin of the king, and never let anyone forget it. She had been in New Orleans for forty years, but she was still extremely French. He knew he would have to teach Wachiwi a few words of French by then.

Jean had stayed with them for several months when he first arrived, and still did from time to time, when he needed a taste of civilization. But it always rapidly became too much for him, and then he took off again. He enjoyed his wanderings in the wilderness and discovering new territories too much to settle for a life in town. He couldn’t imagine Wachiwi happy there for long either. But it would be a good place to take her, until she adjusted to life away from her own culture and people. For some reason, Jean was convinced she could learn. She seemed to be curious about everything. She was now as she explored Luc’s kitchen, and quietly washed their dishes in the bucket he kept for that purpose. As Jean had, she devoured the simple meal. It was delicious, and she thanked Luc in Sioux.

He only had one bedroom to give them, and he insisted they take it. He slept in the sitting room on a comfortable old couch. And as soon as they were shown the bedroom, Wachiwi lay down on the floor. She had never seen a proper bed before, but she made no comment, and assumed it was for Jean. Before that, Luc had shown her the outdoor plumbing facilities, which she had never seen before either, and she thanked him. Jean pulled her to her feet when she lay on the floor, and pointed to her and the bed, and indicated that he would sleep on the floor, but she refused and lay down on the floor again. They argued about it in sign language for a few minutes while she insisted. She was his slave now, but as far as Jean was concerned, she was a woman, and had ridden just as hard and as long as he had. In the end, to make the point to her, he lay down beside her on the floor, and she giggled. He was telling her that if she slept on the floor, so would he. She didn’t budge an inch, and he was amazed at how stubborn she was. It shouldn’t have surprised him from all he knew about her now. He was still amazed by the story Luc had told him, of her courage and all that had happened to her in the past few months. And now she was riding east with him, to an unknown fate, and he was a stranger to her. But it was clear that she trusted him completely. They had survived their trial by fire. Her fate would have been very different if Napayshni had killed him instead. She might have been dead by then, for meeting a white man in secret. In fact, Jean had not only rescued her, but saved her life, and she knew it. And now she believed she belonged to him. He had no idea what to do with her, but he couldn’t just abandon her. She had nowhere to go. And in the face of her insistence, he finally gave up and slept in the bed. He got a good night’s sleep and so did she. He handed her a blanket, she wrapped herself in it, and was asleep in less than five minutes, as Jean lay in bed and thought about her. It had been an amazing three days, which he suddenly realized had changed his life forever. He had no idea what to do with her, but he now was responsible for this exquisitely beautiful Dakota girl.


Chapter 9


Luc made breakfast for them before they left, and gave them food and fresh water for their journey. He kept Jean’s exhausted horse and gave him one of his own, a solid young horse with strong legs that would take them as far as they needed. Jean thanked him for his kindness, and Wachiwi did the same in Sioux. And then they began the two-day trip to Fort St. Charles. It took longer than Jean expected, and they arrived on the afternoon of the third day. The trip had been long and arduous but not dangerous. The fort was familiar to him, because he had stayed there before. It was manned by French soldiers, and no one seemed surprised to see Wachiwi with him. Many men traveled with Indian women, and they directed her to the quarters set aside for Indian women. There wasn’t the remotest possibility that she could stay with Jean. She was treated like a servant or a slave. She looked unhappy when Jean came to see her that evening after having dinner with the commandant. It had been a hearty meal of roasted rabbit, prepared by a French chef, with excellent wines, delicious coffee, and a delicate dessert—and afterward the commandant’s aide handed out cigars. It was the best meal Jean had had in months.

But when he went out to see Wachiwi, he was embarrassed to see that they had served her slop in a dish like a dog. It upset him to realize she was being badly treated. It had never occurred to him that they would do that to her. And the other Indian women seemed less dignified than she did. He looked at her and tried to express how sorry he was, and she looked as though she understood. She nodded. And when the door to the women’s dormitory opened, he noticed that they slept on blankets on the floor. They weren’t treated like humans, but more like dogs, and when he saw that, he decided to move on the next day. His goal was St. Louis now, where he could get her a room in a hotel and get her properly dressed. It was another two-day ride from where they were.

He appeared at her dormitory the next day, pointed to the horse Luc had given them so she knew they were leaving, and spoke to her in French. She looked pleased, and Jean had decided that Luc was right. She needed to learn another language other than Sioux, either English or French, or ideally both. If she was going to exist in the civilized world, there were many things she had to learn. She seemed bright, and Jean thought she could. He taught her a few basic words in both languages as they rode.

There was a lot about her that intrigued him and so much more he wanted to know, about how she had grown up, what her ideas were, what she thought. He had been dazzled by her beauty from the first, but even without a common language, he sensed that she was a woman of depth, spirit, and soul.

Their pace was less frenetic, because they weren’t escaping from anyone now. They were beyond the reach of the Crow, theoretically, or even practically. Wachiwi could never go back, but she was in no danger now, except from the usual rigors of the road. They camped in the woods that night, but Jean had gotten supplies at the fort, and had brought blankets for both of them. They lay looking up at the stars, and as he thought about all that had happened and how far they had come, she quietly reached for his hand and put it over her heart. He understood that it was her way of thanking him, and he was touched. Her unwavering trust in him moved him a great deal. She was both vulnerable and strong, and she suddenly seemed very young. He was worried about what would become of her now, particularly after the poor treatment he’d seen at the fort.

He slept fitfully, and when he woke, it was still dark, there was a full moon, and he saw that she was awake. He wondered if she was frightened or sad, but there was no way he could ask her, so he gently touched her face and stroked her hair. He wanted to reassure her that everything would be all right. Whatever happened, he wanted to leave her in a safe place. They had come through a lot, and he was going to see her to a good situation somewhere, wherever that was. He was not going to abandon her now. He felt surprisingly responsible for her, a feeling he’d never had before. She was a young girl, and he was going to find a good home for her. He hoped that his cousins would be kind to her in New Orleans, and perhaps let her work for them in some capacity. Perhaps she could help take care of Angélique’s daughter’s children, or work for them in the house. There had to be somewhere where Wachiwi would fit in. He lay on his side then and smiled at her reassuringly. She lay under the blanket he had given her, smiling at him, and this time she leaned over and touched his face and then kissed him on the mouth. He hadn’t expected it, and didn’t know what to say. She had startled him totally. So he said not a word, tried to resist the tender feelings he had for her, and then kissed her back. She was all he could think of and he didn’t want to take advantage of her in any way. They were totally alone in the forest and in the world. And as they kissed, he was suddenly filled with passion and an electric current passed between them. They had been through so much and been so frightened, and now they were like two shipwrecked people on a beach. They had escaped and survived together, and neither of them was sure where to go next, other than into each other’s arms, which seemed to be the only safe place they had. Jean kissed her with a fervor he had never felt before for anyone, and she embraced him with all that she had saved and held back for her whole life. She had never dared to look a man in the eye in her own village, and now she was lost in Jean’s arms, swept away by their passion, which ignited like a fuse to which someone had put a match. He moved toward her and under her blanket without thinking, and she had taken off her dress. He saw and felt the same exquisite shape he had seen at the lake, and this time she wasn’t a mysterious stranger, she was familiar and warm and entirely his. And when they fell asleep in each other’s arms as the sun came up, there was no doubt in either of their minds that they belonged to each other now and this was meant to be. But where they would go now, and how, was still a mystery to both of them, yet to be revealed.

It was late the next day when they woke up and the sun was shining brightly. Jean looked at Wachiwi as she opened her eyes, watching her intensely for signs of remorse, and there were none. She smiled at him and opened her arms to him again, and he lost himself in the wonders of her body with all the passion and relief and joy he felt for her after the night before. This was not what he had expected or planned, and yet it seemed to be a gift they had been given. They were both laughing and smiling when they got up. They couldn’t talk about it, but they both understood what had happened. Somewhere along the way, the night before, or days or weeks before, without realizing it they had fallen in love. If he hadn’t killed Napayshni, they wouldn’t even be together, but destiny had intervened and now they were. He couldn’t help wondering if a child would come of the night before. He had seen that she was a virgin when they made love.