Tales of Western Romance by Madeline Baker Page A

if white men are, you
know, different.”
    “ I do not know if the vehoe is
different or not,” Winter Star retorted with a toss of her head. “I
have no one to compare him to.”
    “ Surely you have seen a man without his
breech clout,” Willow replied.
    Winter Star grinned. “Just one. Your little
brother, Black Beaver.”
    Willow laughed. “Boys and men are all the
same. One grows into the other.”
    Winter Star giggled behind her hand.
    “ Why do your parents make you spend so
much time looking after the white man?”
    “ They do not make me,” Winter Star
answered with a shrug.
    Willow’s eyes grew wide. “You stay with him
because you want to?”
    “ Yes,” Winter Star said
defiantly.
    “ Why?”
    “ I do not know.” Winter Star looked
down, her fingers toying with the handle of the waterskin. “He
needs me.”
    Willow nodded, her expression thoughtful as
she studied her friend. “He is going to die soon.”
    “ I know.”
    “ It is good to kill the soldier coats!”
Willow remarked vehemently. “I wish I could kill him
myself!”
    Winter Star nodded. She could understand
Willow’s hatred. Her friend’s father had been killed by the Long
Knives last winter.
    “ You do not wish to see him dead, do
you?” Willow accused. “You like this man, don’t you?”
    “ Yes.”
    Willow shook her head. “How can you have
sympathy for him? He is vehoe! They have no honor. Their
words are like the wind, impossible to see, impossible to
hold.”
    “ He is different.”
    “ Different,” Willow said scornfully.
“How?”
    “ I do not know.”
    “ I do not understand you,” Willow said.
“The whites bring nothing but trouble to our land, and now you say
you care for this man. I think it is good that he will die
soon.”
    “ I do not wish to speak of his death,”
Winter Star said curtly. “There must be some good white men. They
cannot all be bad.”
    “ I have never heard of a good white
man, nor do I believe there is any such thing.” Willow glanced past
Winter Star and smiled brightly. “I see Young Hawk coming this way.
Do you want to be alone with him?”
    “ Not now.”
    “ I thought you cared for
him.”
    “ I do, but Magpie Woman and her sister
are also walking this way, and I do not want them to see me talking
to Young Hawk alone.”
    Willow nodded. Magpie Woman would tell the
whole village that Winter Star and Young Hawk had been together,
alone.
    Young Hawk nodded at the two girls as he
approached. Willow was a pretty girl, as slender as the tree for
which she had been named, but it was Winter Star who drew his gaze.
She was the most beautiful girl in the village and he was
determined to have her for his wife.
    “ The Fox Soldiers are having a dance
tonight,” he said, his gaze on Winter Star’s face. “Will I see you
there?”
    “ I do not know,” Winter Star replied
softly. “I must ask my mother.”
    “ And if she says it is all
right?”
    “ Then I will be there,” Winter Star
said. She glanced at the waterskin in her hand then smiled at Young
Hawk. “I must go. My mother is waiting for me.”
    Young Hawk watched her out of sight before
turning to face Willow. “Does she speak of me?”
    “ Sometimes.”
    “ What does she say? Does she speak of
marriage?”
    Willow smiled impishly. “Sometimes. Of
course, it is Black Otter she speaks of at such times.”
    “ Black Otter!” Rage filled the young
warrior’s eyes. “He is old enough to be her father! And he already
has two wives. I...” Young Hawk glared at Willow. She was kidding
him, of course. It was the way of maidens.
    He drew himself up to his full height as she
began to laugh. With a curt nod, he turned and walked down river,
the back of his neck burning with anger and embarrassment.
    Willow laughed until she was breathless, and
then, suddenly, her expression grew serious. It was not Black Otter
that Young Hawk should worry about, but the white man.

Chapter 4
     
    Two days later, Riley Culhane