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She nodded brusquely, then added, “Black Cat says he does not understand your ways.”
And that brought Pierre directly to his next order of business. Understanding each other’s ways, and words, were the keys to peace. “Which is why Captain Lewis requests your presence at the fort.”
The smug look instantly vanished. Her eyes widened. Pierre couldn’t help but notice again what a lovely shade of green they were. Before he could tell her exactly why the captain had requested her, the mademoiselle’s mother approached.
Pierre removed his cap, bowed. “Madame,” he said.
The older woman seemed more at ease with him than did her daughter. She smiled broadly.
“This is my mother,” Miss Manette said guardedly. “Her name is Evening Sky.”
Madame Manette then said something to her daughter in Mandan.
“Oui,” the mademoiselle responded.
“Your mother speaks French, as well?” he asked.
“She understands but cannot speak with ease.”
“I see,” Pierre said once more.
“My mother asked if you were one of the soldiers who helped Spotted Eagle. I told her yes.”
“How is the boy?” Pierre asked.
“Much better, merci. Please express my thanks to Captain Lewis.”
“You can tell him yourself. He asks that you come to the fort and assist us with understanding your language, help us compile a list of words, an explanation of your tribal customs.”
Mother and daughter exchanged glances. “But Sacagawea—” the younger woman then said.
“Evidently there has been some sort of disagreement.”
“Oh.”
There was a long pause. Pierre could clearly see her hesitancy. Did she think the captain would command her service without payment?
“You would be rewarded for your service,” he told her.
Her eyes flashed angrily. “I’ve no need for useless trinkets.”
So vain baubles didn’t appeal to her. He respected that, but he wasn’t about to tell her so. It irritated him that she had so quickly assumed she’d be paid in useless trinkets. What did she think he and the other men were? A pack of scoundrels looking to trick or take advantage of the native tribes? We are here to explore the land, foster good relations between the tribes, promote fair trade for all. “You would have to discuss payment with Captain Lewis,” he said.
Her mother touched her lightly on the sleeve, spoke again to her in Mandan. The cross look on the daughter’s face softened slightly, but her expression toward him remained anything but friendly. “Tomorrow,” Miss Manette then said to him.
“Tomorrow?”
“Please tell Captain Lewis that I will pray about his offer and give you my answer tomorrow.”
Pierre squinted. Pray about it? While he respected her faith, this was hardly a life-or-death decision. What exactly was there to pray about? It was a few days’ work at most. Knowing Charbonneau, he’d come crawling back as soon as he realized the captains could do without him.
“The work is only temporary,” Pierre told her.
“I understand,” she said. “Still...tomorrow.”
Pierre couldn’t help but feel a measure of disappointment, but why, he did not know. He certainly didn’t enjoy conversing with this woman. Was he disappointed in his ability to perform his duties in persuading her to comply? Did he fear his captain would think him a failure if he didn’t bring her to the fort immediately?
Across the way, an Indian, a powerful-looking man with eagle plumes in his hair and arms the size of trees, was staring at Pierre. Who was he? A relative? Did he distrust the men at the fort as much as Mademoiselle Manette obviously did? Is he the cause of her delay? Whoever he was, Pierre instantly recognized he was not one to be trifled with.
“Very well, mademoiselle,” Pierre said. “I shall relay your message to Captain Lewis.” He tipped his cap to her and her mother, then returned to the fort.
* * *
After the meat had been carved and equally distributed among the tribe, Claire and her mother returned to their lodge. A comforting fire was glowing, smoke curling toward the small hole in the center of the roof. Claire was glad for its warmth. Although her mother did not complain, Evening Sky was walking slowly today. The cold made the older woman’s bones ache. Claire helped settle her mother in the spot against the wall, then piled the buffalo skins around her.
They shared this dwelling with twenty other family members—Running Wolf and his wife, their children, their spouses and several grandchildren, as well. It was within these walls that Claire’s Mandan family told their stories, tales of spirits and souls.
Claire loved and respected her aunt and uncle, her cousins and her cousins’ children. She wanted to believe they cared for and respected her, too. After all, Running Wolf had thought enough of her judgment to have her accompany Little Flower to the fort to seek help for Spotted Eagle. He’d even praised her for her ability to communicate effectively with Captain Lewis.
“You speak to a man of powerful medicine,” he’d said, “and he has honored you.”
She breathed a silent sigh at the memory. If she could continue to please him in ways like this, if she could prove that she could contribute to the tribe as an unmarried woman, then perhaps Running Wolf would not be so eager to see her wed.
She’d thanked her uncle for the honor he paid her, but gave credit to where it was ultimately due. “I had nothing to do with Spotted Eagle’s healing. It was my God who made your grandson well. He used Captain Lewis to do it.”
Running Wolf had dismissed her claim of God’s providence with a sniff, just like he did whenever she spoke words from her father’s Bible. To him, the stories of sin and sacrifice, of life resurrected from the grave, were simply fanciful tales, products of a white man’s imagination.
But I know they are true. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son...”
Her uncle, her chief and the warriors of the tribe might be formidable men, but she was determined to be a light in the darkness and pray for their salvation.
Her mother, now settled, reached for the pair of moccasins she was crafting, a gift for Running Wolf.
“You are intrigued by the invitation to work at the fort,” she said knowingly.
Claire drew in a breath. Her mother knew what she was thinking. She always did. Claire was intrigued, but she was not certain she was interested for the right reason. She’d seen today just how quickly a simple misunderstanding over meat could turn into a disaster. Captain Clark had gotten angry. Black Cat was offended and, eyeing them both, Mr. Lafayette had laid his hand on his musket.
It was his response she remembered most vividly. Quick to assume the worst, ready to take action, just like the white men of Illinois. And yet he seemed most relieved when I then explained Black Cat’s true intentions, as though he did not enjoy the possibility of confrontation.
The man was a mystery. A mystery with a charming smile.
He’d offered her the opportunity to help the American captains better understand her people. Would she be able to help? Could she make a difference? She supposed that even if this position provided nothing else, it could certainly be an opportunity to recapture a glimpse of her father’s culture. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it until now. His staring aside, the dark-haired Frenchman spoke to her with courtesy, bowed to her as though he was a Quebec gentleman asking a lady for a dance.
But Mr. Lafayette is no gentleman, she reminded herself, and this is no palatial ballroom. This is the wilderness—cold, barren, hard. This is a place where survival depends upon good hunting and strong bodies. Men here do not pursue women for dancing or concern themselves with matters of courtship.
Taking the pot of snow she had previously collected, Claire placed it on the fire. As it melted, she added herbs for tea. Her uncle would soon arrive, and he would be expecting his drink.
Running Wolf came into the lodge just as the tea had finished steeping. He sat down on his pile of skins. Claire brought the steaming liquid to him.
“Your tea, uncle,” she said.
After he had accepted it, Claire started to move back. However, he motioned for her to stay. After taking a long draft of the tea, he then spoke. “You spoke words to the white hunter and the angry white chief then looked pleased. What did you say ?”
She told him about the misunderstanding with the meat. Running Wolf frowned slightly.
“Mandans take no more meat than needed. Did you tell all the white men this?”
Evening Sky looked up from her work. “She has an opportunity to tell them that and more, brother.”
“How?”
Claire’s mother then told him of the request from Captain Lewis. Running Wolf gathered his knees to his broad chest and thought for a moment, then said, “If the white chief with the three-corner hat wishes for it, then she must obey. The white chief has great power. Perhaps he is willing to share that power with the Mandan.”
“He will send his messenger for her in the morning,” Evening Sky said.
Running Wolf nodded. “Then it is decided.”
Decided? Claire looked at her mother, then her uncle and then back at her mother again. She knew why Running Wolf was eager to send her, but why her mother? She’d told Mr. Lafayette she’d pray about this. She hadn’t even had the opportunity to do so yet. The American captains appeared to be honorable men in search of peace, but what if they were not?
She wanted to protest the decision being made for her when she was still unsure—but she knew better than to speak her mind. Running Wolf would see it as a challenge to his authority, and the likelihood of him ever listening to her on spiritual matters thereafter would be nil.
So she held her tongue, but it was hard to do so. Claire moved about the lodge at a busy pace. She stoked the fire. She cleaned the cooking pot. Soon her cousins and the rest of her family would be arriving and it would be time to prepare the evening meal.
Her mother must have recognized her distress, for when Running Wolf finished his tea and left to visit the elders, she said to her, “All will be well, child. The Lord will supply all we need.” With those simple words, she returned to her beading.
There were times when Claire was envious of her mother’s strong faith. She had a prevailing sense of peace, one that had held despite losing her husband, her relocation to such a hard land and their uncertain future.
Such surety must come with age, Claire thought, but she prayed that God would grant her a little of that peace now.
Chapter Two (#uab98e6a2-93c6-51d4-a7fa-d27ee6a0d2ec)
Claire stepped from the lodge the following morning to find Mr. Lafayette waiting for her. The air was so cold that his nose and his cheeks above his black beard were as red as a choke cherry. The beard lifted with the hint of a smile the moment they locked eyes.
“Good morning, Miss Manette,” he said. “Have you come to a decision?”
“I have, Mr. Lafayette,” she said with much more confidence than she actually felt. Was her nervousness due to the fact that she’d actually had little say in coming to this conclusion or the unsettled feeling his smile provoked in her? Her cousin was right. He was a pleasant-looking man. Claire couldn’t deny that. “I will accept your captain’s invitation,” she said.
His smile broadened but quickly faded the moment her uncle stepped from the lodge. Arms crossed, eagle feathers in his hair, Running Wolf nodded curtly to the white man.
Mr. Lafayette responded the same way.
“My uncle will accompany us to the fort,” Claire explained, “to offer his greetings to your captains.”
“As you wish,” Mr. Lafayette said, and with that, he turned in the direction from which he had come. Claire and her uncle silently followed. After leaving the village, the only sounds were the fierce prairie wind and the snow pelting their clothing.
Whatever conversation might have been initiated by the Frenchman was discouraged by Running Wolf’s presence. For that Claire was grateful. It allowed her time to study him. What kind of man is he? Honest and authentic? Sly and deceitful? All she could tell at this point was that he was most likely a good hunter. His feet made no sound. He walked like a Mandan.
They arrived at the fort, where imposing sentinels still stood guard. One word from Mr. Lafayette, however, and Claire and her uncle were allowed to pass. They followed the Frenchman to the captains’ quarters. Once again she waited outside while he announced her arrival.
“These white men have made a small village,” Running Wolf commented as he glanced about. “Yet they have no altars for incense or prayers.”
“They address their Creator with words from their hearts,” Claire said. Or at least, she hoped they did.
Mr. Lafayette returned, ushered them inside. Captain Lewis was again at his desk. Placing his quill in his inkwell, he stood and greeted her formally. “Miss Manette, I appreciate your willingness to come. Your knowledge will be a great help.”
Mr. Lafayette introduced Running Wolf. Her uncle spoke his words to the captain.
“He says he has great respect for your power and wishes good health to you and your men,” Claire said. “He says that he hopes for continued peace between the white men and the Mandan people.”
Mr. Lafayette promptly translated her words into English. Claire listened carefully to the captain’s response.
“That is my wish, as well, Running Wolf, and why I appreciate your willingness to bring your niece to us. She will be well looked after and will return to you in a few days.”
Claire began repeating the message for her uncle but halted at the captain’s last sentence. A few days? So she—an unmarried woman, alone and unchaperoned—was expected to stay at the fort with all the soldiers? Her spine instinctively stiffened. No! That will not do!
She told Mr. Lafayette so immediately. Blinking, he stole a quick glance at his captain, then looked back at her.
“Tell him,” she said in French. “I will not stay. It is not proper.”
He repeated her message, but far less emphatically than how she had originally spoken. Captain Lewis looked taken aback.
Running Wolf didn’t need a translator to tell him something was wrong. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, but when Claire explained the circumstances, he was not offended by the captain’s thoughtless request. He was angry with her.
“Do as the white chief says,” he ordered.
But this isn’t proper! He wouldn’t ask such if I were a white woman. Where am I to sleep? Sharing quarters with her blood relatives was one thing, a fort full of soldiers quite another.
The icy chill of fear caused her to shiver. Had her uncle counted on this? Is this his way of finding me a husband?
It was then that Mr. Lafayette spoke. “Perhaps, sir,” he said to Captain Lewis, “if mademoiselle’s mother were to stay on at the fort as a chaperone, the lady may be more apt to remain.”
The lady. Twice now he had referred to her in such a way. Was that how he saw her? Or was he simply saying what he thought she would want to hear? Mr. Granger back in Illinois had claimed to view her with respect and to care for her safety. It had been a lie.
Claire did not know what to think or whom to trust. She studied Mr. Lafayette, trying to discern the truth behind his words, but could garner little information. He had returned his gaze to his captain.
Captain Lewis blinked, and then looked chagrined, as if he’d only then realized the insensitivity of his plan. “Y-yes, of c-course,” he stammered. “My apologies, Miss Manette. That would be only proper. Will your uncle allow your mother to come? I understand and respect the hardship it will place on the rest of your family.”
Yes, it will be a hardship. There would be two fewer pairs of hands to cook, to sew, to tend to the children. Claire explained it to Running Wolf. When he frowned, she was certain he was going to tell Captain Lewis to forget the whole thing.
Good. That was what she hoped would happen.
“My sister cannot make the journey on foot,” he said. “She has weak legs. You must send a good horse for her.”
A good horse? Claire drew in a sharp breath. So she would be staying, after all. Reluctantly she relayed her uncle’s message.
“Yes, of course,” Captain Lewis said, “and we will return the horse to you after your sister’s arrival. You may have use of it until the women return home.”
This pleased Running Wolf, for the use of a white chief’s horse, even if only temporary, was a great honor. He nodded to the captain. “I will go now. I will bring her to you.”
