Bound by Honor Bound by Love Read online

  He closed his eyes and waited for Onawa to come to him. Seconds turned into minutes, and by the time a half hour had passed, he gave up counting the seconds. She was in no hurry to see him, and who could blame her? He was lucky she bothered coming back to his lodge at all.

  He finally drifted off into a fitful sleep. In it, he caught images of an impregnable wall that circled the entire village. All full-blooded Mandans were locked inside, and Onawa was unable to see Julia, Woape, her nieces, and her father. She tried to climb the wall to get outside, but when that didn’t work, she dug a hole until she reached the underground tribe of Mandans who never made it to the surface of the earth. They showed her a passage that took her above the ground, and the Lone Man led her to the river where a large sacred bundle led her to the people she loved.

  Woape and her father and nieces were all white. Their heritage had been removed from them, and Onawa took the corn from the sacred bundle and it transformed her into a white woman. She gave birth to a white child. Woape asked who the father was. Onawa said the chief of the white man was the father, adding that she loved him. When Woape asked about Citlali, Onawa said she never knew someone by that name.

  At that point, Citlali woke up, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. He had no idea how long he slept, but beside him, the bed was still empty. Maybe Onawa wouldn’t sleep with him tonight. Maybe she planned to sleep alone. He didn’t know if he could bear that thought. Just as he was ready to get out of bed and get dressed so he could recommend she go to their small room, she pulled back the buffalo hide and stepped into the room.

  Relieved but not wishing for her to know he was awake, he closed his eyes and pretended he was asleep. His heartbeat calmed. Good. She was still with him. She wasn’t going to run off because she couldn’t stand him like Woape had. He focused on her movements as she got ready for bed. He wondered if she was still upset with him or if she’d forgiven him?

  She approached the bed and slipped under the blanket. He waited for her to snuggle up to him like she usually did, but tonight, she turned her back to him and pulled the blanket over her head. He hesitated to say something to her since he now knew she wasn’t happy with him, but after his nightmare, he felt compelled to try to do something to ease the tension between them.

  Before he could talk himself out of it, he turned toward her and put his arm around her waist in an effort to hold her. She stiffened, and he stopped. His heart racing in dread, he whispered, “Onawa?”

  She didn’t respond for a long moment, and he swore the silence that passed between them spanned an eternity. When she finally spoke, he detected a hard edge to her voice. “What do you want?”

  Uncertain, words failed him. How could he tell her that he was terrified this would be the last time they’d be together? Maybe she’d come back to talk to his sister and explain why she’d be leaving the tribe with her sister and father. Maybe he’d never see her again. He brought his hand up to the blanket and gently lowered it so he could see her face in the dim light. She had her eyes closed, and though he wished she’d look in his direction, she didn’t. In a tentative move to help bridge the gap between them, he lowered his face towards hers and kissed her on the cheek.

  Her eyes flew open and she edged away from him. “I’m not in the mood.”

  It took him a good moment before he realized she thought he was initiating lovemaking. He pulled back and whispered, “I wasn’t going to…” He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to kiss you. That’s all.”

  “Oh. Alright.”

  She didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t have to. He heard the relief in her voice. He didn’t dare ask her if she still cared for him because he might find out that she never cared for him to begin with. He should just be happy she was here with him. She returned to the lodge. They would stay married. He would get to be with her and their child. He told himself that was enough. But for some reason, it seemed like a shallow consolation.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You can’t do this!” Cole shouted among the protesters who had come to the chief’s lodge to argue his mandate.

  Citlali could barely hear Cole among the group of angry men who demanded the chief forgo his mandate to remove all of the white people from the tribe. Though Citlali stood by the chief and expected this would happen, he took a step back. He knew most of the tribe would be upset, but he’d underestimated the power of their fury.

  Cole pushed his way to the front of the group so he was face to face with the chief. “I adopted Etu and Yepa. They’re my children. You can’t take them away from me!”

  The chief turned his stoic gaze in his direction. “White man’s laws do not matter here. You are under the authority of the tribe.”

  Cole’s face grew red. “I don’t care what you say. Those are my children!”

  “No, they are not your children. They are Motega and Takchawee’s children. You took care of them for a short time, and we appreciate that. But it is in their best interest to return to their family.”

  “Penelope and I are their family.” Cole turned to Citlali who held his breath at the accusing glare in his eyes. “You should have told me that by taking my children here, this arrogant chief of yours would demand we turn them over to him.”

  Citlali swallowed. “This wasn’t… I didn’t know…” He glanced at the chief who narrowed his hard gaze at him. Growing silent, Citlali averted his eyes. What could he do? He was caught between a rock and a hard place. No matter what he did, he couldn’t win.

  “That’s the most emotion I’ve ever seen in you,” Chogan told Citlali, and the lodge grew silent.

  Citlali stiffened. How did Chogan manage to silence the room when the chief couldn’t? Citlali had no idea how Chogan could command so much respect when he was just a hunter. Chogan stared long and hard at Citlali who couldn’t look him in the eye. He and Chogan had had their difficulties in the past, but nothing was as hard as Chogan’s condemning scowl at this moment when families were being ripped apart from each other.

  “Why don’t you be a man and tell the chief you won’t be a part of this, Citlali?” Chogan demanded. “Doesn’t it matter to you that your wife’s family will have to leave the tribe?”

  Citlali gave a slight wince but didn’t respond. He couldn’t afford to say anything, especially not in front of the chief.

  Chogan grunted and shook his head before he turned his attention to the chief. “You won’t live forever, and you can’t force people to abide by your archaic rules once you die. Life teaches us that everything is in a constant state of change. Even if the seasons cycle, no two winters or summers are the same. Once a process has been started, you either adapt or become obsolete. The ways of our people are dying. The sooner you face that, the better. Fighting it won’t do you any good. Those who are adapting to the changes happening around us will survive. Your ways will not.”

  “You did not always talk this way,” the chief replied in disapproval.

  “That’s because I saw how things are instead of what I wanted them to be. You can’t stop this. It’s bigger than all of us.”

  “That’s the kind of thinking that will condemn us all. You give up and the situation becomes hopeless.”

  “No. Your inability to adapt to changes will condemn you and those who persist in following you. You will miss out on people who will enrich your life.” When the chief refused to relent, Chogan turned to Citlali and pointed to all of the men. “They won’t follow you. You think you will win their approval just because the chief tells them to? When the chief dies, most of these men will abandon you. In the white man’s world, they vote for their rulers. They don’t listen to whoever the chief tells them to follow. And what do you think will happen to your children if they marry among the white people? Will you send them out of the tribe? And when Onawa’s finally had enough, do you honestly believe she’ll stay with you?”

  Something in Citlali snapped, and he struck Chogan under the ear, aiming for the bundle of nerves located ther
e. The result was immediate. Chogan went limp and fell to the ground. Citlali’s heart pounded loudly in his ears. He’d never struck a man before. He knew the techniques to fight in case he ever needed to defend himself, but he’d never put anything he learned into practice.

  The onlookers remained silent, and time seemed to be suspended as he turned his gaze to the chief who gave a slight nod of approval at the way Citlali had handled the situation. Citlali’s eyes grew wide. He knew what he’d just done.

  In one swift move, he’d proven that he could hold his own against Chogan, and the men would either be in awe of him or reject him. Most likely those who weren’t happy with the chief would reject him. Either way, it turned his stomach to have struck out at someone the way he had. All the control he’d carefully used to rein in his emotions seemed to be shattering all around him.

  Unable to bear the shame of letting everyone know he could be bothered to the point of striking someone, he fled from the lodge, ignoring the chief who called out for him to return. He didn’t look at anyone as he hurried out of the tribe. Several people called out to him, but he couldn’t answer them. Soon enough, they’d learn he’d acted out of anger. He’d rather not be there when they did. Fleeing, he pulled his robe closer around him and went to the one spot he could safely be without anyone seeking him out: the area where he went whenever he sought his visions.

  ***

  Bitter cold filled the night and Citlali wrapped the robe tighter around his body. He regretted not taking his teepee and supplies as he left the tribe, but he’d rather die than go back for them. Thankfully, there was no snow, especially since the temperatures had dropped since the sun went down. He brought his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead to his knees. In his haste, he hadn’t even considered how he’d make a fire, and all efforts to do it from the tree branches nearby resulted in a waste of time.

  The prairie came with a profound loneliness, and he had never noticed it more than tonight. He knew what the chief would want him to do. The chief would want him to take this opportunity to seek a vision, sure that it would encourage him to send the white people away. But Citlali didn’t want a vision. He was tired of looking for guidance from spirits that didn’t exist. The Mandan legends were just that: legends. It had been their way of life, and as much as the chief struggled to maintain it, Citlali knew Chogan was right. Life was changing. The old ways were passing to make room for the new ones. If he’d learned nothing else from the outraged men who filled the chief’s lodge that day, it was how fruitless the chief’s plan was. A chief was to lead, not force his will on the tribal members.

  For the first time in his life, Citlali cried. Years of repressed emotions came flooding to the surface, and he had no idea how he could stop them. No matter what he did, he was trapped. Trapped between his duty to the chief and his love for his wife. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t please them, and to make matters worse, he’d struck Chogan in anger.

  At some point, he drifted off to sleep, grateful for the reprieve from the day’s events. He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when someone called his name. At first, he thought it was part of a dream he was having until he felt someone touch him. Startled, his eyes flew open and he sat up. It took him a moment to realize he was staring into Chogan’s eyes.

  Recalling the way he’d struck him, Citlali bolted to his feet. “What do you want?” He pulled his robe closer to him and scanned their surroundings, noting Chogan’s horse and the travois it pulled.

  “You have a poor way of running off like a scared rabbit,” Chogan said as he turned to the travois.

  “I didn’t run like a scared rabbit,” Citlali insisted, not hiding his irritation. What was the point? He’d already shown Chogan how angry he could get.

  Chogan didn’t bother glancing in his direction. Citlali wasn’t entirely surprised by his reaction since Chogan made it a habit of ignoring him when he didn’t care what he had to say. Gritting his teeth, Citlali went to the travois to see what Chogan put on it. He furrowed his eyebrows when he realized Chogan had packed a teepee and buffalo blankets.

  “Why did you bring this out?” Citlali demanded. “You’re not allowed to stay here. This is my private area.”

  Chogan shook his head and lifted the teepee off the travois. “You are not only a scared rabbit, but you’re stupid, too.”

  Citlali grunted.

  “I wouldn’t be coming all the way out here to stay here,” Chogan told him as he carried the teepee to the area of the grass where Citlali had been sleeping. “Julia’s better looking than you. I’m returning to her tonight.”

  Some of Citlali’s anger departed and he relaxed. “Why did you bring me supplies?”

  “Because I think you’re finally understanding what makes for a good chief.”

  Chogan placed the teepee on the ground and started setting it up. Eager to be in a warm teepee instead of being exposed to the bitter air, Citlali hurried to help him. The process of setting everything up didn’t take long, and Chogan had Citlali’s belongings in the teepee. As Citlali made a campfire, he thought about Onawa. Would she miss him? Or would she be glad he wasn’t with her tonight?

  He sighed. She probably didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Sure, she’d returned to him last night, but he got the feeling that she didn’t want to be with him but did it because she felt she had no other choice. Today, she learned what he did to Chogan, and Chogan was Julia’s husband. There was no way she’d be eager to see him right now…if ever again.

  “That should make you comfortable until you decide to leave your hole and return to the tribe,” Chogan said.

  Citlali shot him a piercing look. “It might be due to remind you that I helped save your life when Ernest left you for dead.”

  “Why do you think I’m doing this for you now? You’re no match for the night, and you’re no hunter. If you’re going to survive to return to the tribe and do the right thing, you need to live through this humiliating experience.”

  “You never miss an opportunity to give me grief, do you?”

  “When I was injured and wanting to find Julia, you told me I did well to find a woman I’d sacrifice everything for. Now you do the same. Don’t let pride hold you back.”

  Before Citlali could reply, Chogan turned and went to his horse. Citlali sighed but focused on the warm fire in front of him. For tonight, he’d take comfort in knowing he had shelter, food and warmth. He wouldn’t think of the chief or Onawa. He’d clear his mind and relax.

  Chogan headed back to the tribe on his horse, and Citlali gave into the peaceful solitude of the night. Above him, the stars twinkled in the clear sky. In the past, he sought a vision when he was out here, but deep down, he knew the vision wouldn’t come. They were things of myths. The Lone Man was a myth. If it’d been true, then the Lone Man would have returned as promised, especially with the tribe in such division and the Mandan people becoming smaller and smaller in number. But the Lone Man hadn’t returned, and soon there would be no Mandan people left to return for.

  Citlali’s gaze went to Chogan as he disappeared into the darkness. Chogan was happy. Julia was happy. Woape was happy. Gary was happy. Onawa’s father was happy with Julia’s aunt. He returned his attention to the fire and wrapped the robe tighter around his body. He’d like for Onawa to be happy, and if possible, he’d like to be happy, too. He just didn’t know how that was going to happen.

  ***

  Onawa couldn’t believe it. Citlali left without saying a word to her. Granted, he hadn’t said a word to anyone else either, but word had spread quickly through the tribe that he left right after striking Chogan. She wondered what Chogan said to him to make him angry enough to do that. In all the time she’d known him, he’d never acted out in such a way. As she thought about it, he never showed any emotions.

  She sat in Citlali’s lodge, not listening to what the others around her were saying. They were talking about Citlali, of course, and the events that transpired. Citlali’s mot
her and aunts were concerned but also relieved that Chogan had come by for Citlali’s things and would see to it that Citlali had them. Even if the days were warm, the nights were still too cool to sleep without something to warm him up.

  As they continued to talk about the day’s events, she was beginning to feel sick to her stomach. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten to take some ground ginger to ease the nausea that came with expecting a child. Before the sickness could get worse, she went to the room she and Citlali shared and grabbed the sack of ginger from the small table. She dabbed it under her tongue and sat on the bed while she waited for it to work.

  She glanced behind her, her gaze resting on the side of the bed where Citlali slept. Except he wouldn’t be sleeping here tonight, and who knew if he’d come back to sleep here again. She brushed away the tear that trickled down her cheek. Citlali hadn’t come for her to take her with him, and that was the part that hurt the most. He didn’t care for her at all. He married her because the chief wanted him to and did his duty to make sure another Mandan child would be born in the tribe.

  She leaned forward and rested her forehead on her knees. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to throw up. She needed to relax. Even as the stark reality of her marriage came crashing down upon her, she needed to keep her strength up. This wasn’t just Citlali’s baby; it was hers, too. She needed to think of what was best for the child. Days of hoping for Citlali’s love were over. There was no point in pining for someone who didn’t want her. He’d made it very clear that day how he felt.

  From this point, she needed to do what was best for her and the baby. She squeezed her eyes and fought back the rest of her tears. She didn’t want to cry over him. She was tired of caring about him and what he wanted her to do or not do. She’d played the devoted wife, even willing to stay with him when he stood by the chief’s decision to force people she loved out of the tribe.