Restoring Hope Page 16

  “You need focus on rabbit.”

  Obviously. And she thought she was! But apparently, she wasn’t. “I told you this was hard.”

  “No. Not hard. Easy.”

  “For you.”

  “Will be for you. Practice.” He retrieved the arrow and brought it back to her. “Try again.”

  She didn’t want to try again. She was hungry, and her stomach had no trouble letting her know that. “I need to eat.”

  He looked disappointed. “One more try. Then we eat?”

  She nodded. It sounded like an easy enough compromise. She scanned the grass. “There?” She pointed to two rabbits toward the east.

  “Good spot.”

  This time she crept to the animals and he followed. She took a deep breath and raised the bow and arrow, directing the arrow at the rabbit on the right. She tightened her grip and let the arrow fly. Once again, it fell short of her mark.

  “Good.”

  “Good? I didn’t even get it.”

  “You do better.”

  Better by how much? A couple inches?

  “Tomorrow I teach you to aim and use pressure.”

  Tomorrow? That meant she had to go through this again? Whatever did she do to deserve such torture? He took back the bow and arrow, his strong hands brushing hers, and once again she wondered if she should find the action as exciting as it was. He turned his back to her and released the arrow, expertly shooting a rabbit that she could hardly see. She rolled her eyes. Nothing should be that easy.

  He smiled at her. “We eat better tonight. I go get rabbits.”

  “I’ll get the knife so we can start skinning them.” Then she headed back to her aunt.

  ***

  Gary wiped the sweat from his forehead and stuffed his bandana back into his pocket. His gaze drifted to the Mandan tribe half a mile from where he stood with the Indian, probably not much older than him, staring at him.

  “You will not come here,” the man said, his arms crossed and a frown on his face.

  By the amount of feathers lining his headdress, Gary gathered that this was an important man. “But I’m searching for someone. She came from this tribe. Her name is Woape, and—”

  “There is no one by that name here. You will not come into village. We are peaceful.”

  The horse next to him nudged him in the shoulder as if to indicate that they should take their search elsewhere. But Gary had no idea where else to look. He’d been back home, and not only was Woape gone but so were his aunt and sister. All of them couldn’t have vanished into thin air. Taking a deep breath, he chose his words carefully. “I don’t want trouble. I come in peace.”

  “Woape is not here. You have no reason to stay.”

  Gary tried to determine whether the Indian was telling him the truth or not. He didn’t sense any hostility from the man or the group of onlookers who kept their distance from them. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. The task of finding his wife proved more difficult than he thought it would, and with each passing day, the pit of despair that lingered in his heart grew a little more. What if the Indians who had come for her found her in the attic? He thought the plan was full-proof. Maybe she left her hiding spot. But that didn’t seem like her. He had held out for the hope that she would have found her way back to her people.

  Gary scanned what he could of the earthen lodges and the people hovering around them. If Woape was here, she’d tell them about him, even if she thought he was dead. Deciding to try again, he said, “My name is Gary Milton. Woape is my—”

  “Citlali, I talk with him,” an older man yelled out as he approached them.

  The young Indian nodded toward Gary. “You do not believe me. Believe the chief.”

  Gary waited until the chief caught up to them, hoping his apprehension didn’t show. The chief had a formidable look about him that left little room for argument. “Woape is very important to me, and I’m important to her. If she’s here, she’ll want to see me.”

  “But she is not here,” the chief answered. “Citlali has told you the truth. Her father, brother and a couple of others have been searching. Even we searched.” He motioned to himself and the other Indian.

  All hopes that they had been lying faded. Gary wasn’t a mind reader, but there was no mistaking the sorrow in the chief’s eyes. Gary turned back in the direction that would lead him north of the Mandan tribe. Maybe those men who’d snuck into their house had found her after all. But she had to be alive. Their child had to be alive.

  The chief drew himself to his full height. “We suggest you leave.”

  Gary blinked for a moment when he realized that even if they told him the truth, they were wary of him. Did they think Gary had something to do with her disappearance? He debated whether it would be wise to press the issue, to let them know he wasn’t a threat, but then he realized that only Woape could settle the matter. And since she wasn’t there, it was pointless to stick around. Finally, he thanked them and hopped back on the horse. As he headed back north, he determined that he wouldn’t give up. Not until the Lord made it clear to him that he should. As long as there was the spark of hope, he had to keep looking.

  Chapter Twenty

  Woape gathered her sleeping child and stood from the chair at the table. “I want to take a nap.”

  Penelope smiled and also stood with a cup in her hand. “Tell me the truth, how well am I learning your language?”

  “You’re doing very well.” She glanced at her daughter. After her birth, Woape decided to tell Penelope what had happened and confessed that she knew how to speak English. From there, she’d taken to the task of teaching her friend her language. She’d like to think it was a thank you for all Penelope had done for her and her child, but she doubted she could ever adequately thank Penelope. She returned her gaze to Penelope who was putting the cup into the sink. “I pray that Cole will return.”

  Penelope looked over her shoulder, seeming surprised.

  Woape shrugged. “I’d like to see good happen for you.”

  Woape had her child—Gary’s child. If Cole did come back for Penelope, then Penelope could find happiness again. Woape could almost hear her mother now: No one is guaranteed a happy ending, Woape. We learn to be content with whatever happens. Maybe her mother was right, but Woape still couldn’t help but hope. Maybe that meant she was still young.

  “It’s been nice having you here,” Penelope softly said.

  Yes, but Woape wasn’t planning to stay forever. Sooner or later, she’d have to go back to her tribe.

  Penelope grabbed a hat and work gloves. “I’m going to weed the garden.”

  She nodded and carried the baby to the bed. “What day is it?”

  “July 9th, I believe.”

  “My daughter is not a month old and she already looks big.”

  Penelope grinned as she slipped on the gloves. “I suppose that is the nature of babies. You blink and they’re all grown up. Sleep well.”

  Woape settled onto the bed as Penelope shut the door. She turned onto her side so that she could watch the child as she slept. She didn’t think it was possible to have such comfort in Gary’s absence, but with this child, she knew a part of him remained with her.

  “Your father was a good man,” she whispered, chuckling as the baby scrunched her eyebrows.

  Closing her eyes, she drifted off to sleep. In the span of her sleep, she didn’t know how much time passed until she heard the sound of laughter. At first, she thought she was dreaming but soon realized the laughter was coming from Penelope. Surprised, since in the time she’d known her, Penelope rarely laughed, she opened her eyes.

  Penelope was excitedly whispering to someone who stood in the doorway, slightly out of Woape’s view. The man was white, and for a split second, Woape thought it was Gary. She bolted up, her heart hammering with excitement. But it couldn’t be Gary.

  When Penelope glanced at her, Woape’s hope plummeted. No. It wasn’t Gary. But if it wasn’t Gary, then...

  “T
his is Cole Hunter,” Penelope told her, her face flushed with joy. She turned back to him. “Would you believe my friend has been praying you’d come back?” Without waiting for him to respond, she said, “Martha is from the Mandan tribe. She’s a good friend, and she has a baby girl.”

  “Hello, Martha,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” Woape replied. One thing she didn’t tell Penelope was her real name. She worried that Hothlepoya would make the connection if he heard anyone mention that “Woape” lived out there with Penelope. But if “Martha” was here, then he had no reason to connect those dots, especially since “Martha” was a white woman’s name.

  Penelope turned to Cole. “Why don’t you get the wagon ready?”

  He nodded and left.

  Woape couldn’t help but smile. Penelope’s face glowed, and Woape was glad her friend’s happy ending came after all.

  Penelope rushed over to her. “I can’t believe it. Pinch me. Am I dreaming?”

  Maybe she should ask if Woape was still dreaming, for it was Woape who fell asleep. But Woape knew they were both awake. “He loves you. I can tell by the way he looks at you.”

  Gary used to look at her that way. Citlali never did. There was a big difference in the way a man looked at a woman when he was with her for duty’s sake and when he was with her because he loved her. And Cole came back because he loved Penelope. A woman was fortunate to have the pleasure of a man’s love, even if the time had been cut short.

  Woape picked up the baby. “We both have things to rejoice for. We’re blessed.”

  Penelope wiped some tears from her eyes, but at least this time, there was happiness on her face. “You’re right. Cole wants to marry me, so we want to go to town. We thought we’d build you and your child a cabin of your own in that direction.” She pointed northwest. “You’ll only be a few yards away.”

  “You do not need to go through all that trouble for me.” Woape glanced at her child. She slept well and didn’t fuss much. Just like her father, she seemed to be content no matter what. “I was thinking of returning home—back to my people. She might be up for the trip. Do you think I could go on the train?” As long as she stayed around a lot of people, her journey might be safe.

  “You don’t have to leave. I like having you around.”

  “I like being here too, but I don’t belong here. You’ve been wonderful to me. I sense that God has something else for me.” And that might be going to her tribe and marrying Citlali.

  “Well, you have friends here.”

  “The same is true for you, should you ever come to my tribe.”

  Penelope hugged her, careful not to squeeze the baby. “Let me arrange for your train ticket and see to it that someone takes you to your tribe.”

  Woape realized this was doing more than could ever be expected of a person, but it would solve her problems—and she did want to return home. “Thank you.” That was all she could offer.

  “You’re welcome. And thank you for praying. You know, I believe it worked.” She stood up and glanced around the cabin. “I suppose I should get things ready. It’ll be a two day trip.”

  With a mixture of apprehension and excitement, Woape went to help her. She wondered if her people would welcome Gary’s child. She recalled how Chogan reacted. But that was Chogan, and Chogan was set in his ways. He thought the greatest travesty that could befall their people was to have children with white people. Others in her tribe didn’t share the same mentality—at least not to the degree he did.

  Well, if they couldn’t welcome Gary’s child, then they couldn’t welcome her. And if that was the case, maybe she’d come back here. But she had to try going back first.

  ***

  Another arrow landed so far off her mark that Julia had to fight the urge to break the stupid bow. “This is pointless. My aunt and I will just eat jerky on our way back home,” she told Chogan before she held the bow out to him. “I’m done.”

  He refused to take it. “You improve. Did better.”

  “Better isn’t good enough.” She didn’t want to snap but her sharp tone came out anyway. Did he really enjoy watching her fail day after day of doing this? “There are some things I’m good at, but this isn’t one of them.” She thrust the bow in his direction.

  “You need patience.”

  She grunted and released the bow so it fell to the grass. As she hastened toward the campfire where her aunt made lunch, he jumped in front of her. She shrieked and almost tripped on her skirt.

  “You give up too fast,” he said.

  Gritting her teeth, she glared at him, her fists clenched at her sides. What did he care? She had no intention of being a hunter.

  “You impatient.”

  “You are impatient,” she corrected.

  “No. I not lose patience. You do.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I meant that you need to put your verb in your sentences when you speak. You don’t say, ‘You impatient.’ You say, ‘You are impatient.’”

  “If I say that, will you try again?”

  He had to be crazy! “No.”

  Shrugging, he replied, “I not say it.”

  She stood there for a moment, staring at him in disbelief. Why that should startle her as much as it did, she didn’t understand, but for some reason, she hadn’t expected it. “You are a stubborn man.”

  “And you stubborn woman.”

  “Me? I’m not stubborn. I went along with this whole thing and tried shooting rabbits.”

  “You not put your heart into it.”

  “Because I don’t want to do it. If I were a man, I could see the point, but I’m not a man.”

  An amused smile crossed his face. “That is good thing.”

  She didn’t know what to make of that comment so she just stared at him.

  “I use word ‘is’. Happy?”

  When she could finally speak, she crossed her arms and said, “Yes. You should take this chance to fine tune the English language.”

  “I fine tune English language. You fine tune hunting rabbits. Deal?”

  Sighing, she remarked, “You had to slip that one in, didn’t you?”

  “It is your choice. You can shoot rabbit or other animal. You need patience. Learning takes time. I not learn your language right away.”

  So he had a point...and a good one too. She didn’t know if that should annoy her or not.

  He motioned to the bow still lying in the grass. “Come. Try two more times. Then we eat. Then we find Woape and Gary.”

  “Just two times? You won’t try to talk me into more than that?”

  “Two times until we stop for the night. Then we practice again before supper.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said we were going to find Woape and Gary.”

  A chuckle escaped his throat. “You make joke.”

  She was surprised he caught onto that. Most people seemed to miss it when she did, so she long ago gave up trying. “A small one,” she admitted, relaxing. “But we could find them. That would be good.” And her nagging guilt could finally leave because she could apologize for what she’d done.

  “We might. That would be good.”

  She nodded.

  “So try again?”

  “You probably won’t leave me alone until I do anyway.” She turned around and headed back to the bow and picked it up. “If I really do shoot one, you have to skin it and cook it.” She retrieved an arrow from the pile between them.

  He grimaced. “I think I get the bad part of the deal.”

  She laughed to herself as she made another failed attempt at shooting a rabbit. “I don’t think you’re in any danger of cooking.”

  “You need to focus on rabbit.”

  “I do.”

  “You focus too much on me. I make you...nervous?”

  “Of course, you make me nervous. You know what you’re doing, and you’re watching me.”

  “I try to help.”

  Well
, maybe that was true, but still, he was watching her with keen interest. “Maybe if you didn’t stare, then it would help.”

  “I watch your technique.”

  “Couldn’t you take a break and look at the rabbits?”

  “But I not make them stay still. They move as they will. I can help you.”

  “It’s just unnerving, that’s all. I do better if I’m not being stared at all the time.”

  “But it is nice to look at you.”

  Her jaw nearly dropped and her face grew warm. Did he mean that the way she thought he did?

  He picked up another arrow and stepped up behind her. “I make it better then.” He gently took her arms and lifted them so that she was holding the bow up. With a nudge, he directed the arrow to the right where a solitary rabbit rested. “Put arrow in,” he whispered in her ear.

  A shiver of delight raced down her spine. Oh, he had to be kidding if he thought this was going to help her concentrate! This was worse. Much worse! She looked over her shoulder.

  “What is wrong?”

  “Well...” Seriously, how was she supposed to explain it to him?

  “I watch rabbit. You watch rabbit also.” He turned her head so that she had to look in front of her. “I not watch you.”

  There was no way she was going to be able to concentrate. Not when he stood so close to her that she could practically feel his body. Not when his hand covered hers as she positioned the arrow in the right spot on the bow. Not when he lifted her arms so she was aiming the arrow at the rabbit.

  “Take your time,” he whispered. “Patience.”

  Fine. So he wasn’t going to step away from her. And there was no way she was going to tell him how distracting it was either. She gripped the bow and bit her lower lip. His hands were still resting on her elbows. Her skin tingled and heart raced with unabashed excitement. She wished her body would calm down. It’d be much easier to release the arrow if she could just take a deep breath. Finally, she exhaled and let the arrow go.

  This time, she got within a few inches of the animal. Excited, she clapped her hands. “I almost did it!”