know what they say, you can’t be too rich or too thin.”
Hawk sat back in his chair. He had come to enjoy the easy banter between the two women, just as he’d come to enjoy being the center of attention. In the village there hadn’t been much time to just sit back and relax. He’d spent many hours with Heart-of-the-Wolf, learning the ancient chants and healing skills of the Lakota. And because he was well liked by the other warriors, he was always invited to go along on a hunt or a raid. Though still a young man, he had been considered wise beyond his years and many of the young men had come to him seeking advice.
After breakfast, Veronica helped Maggie into the bathtub, then went into the laundry room to put in a load of wash. Alone, Hawk wandered through the house and then, on an impulse, he went into Maggie’s room and sat in her wheelchair. He thought of the years she had been imprisoned in the chair by her inability to walk, and tried to imagine what it would be like if he were crippled. Would he want to live if he couldn’t chase the buffalo across the vast sunlit prairie, or feel the wind in his face as he raced Ohitika across the plains? Would life be worth living if he couldn’t stalk the wily elk, or stand beside Red Arrow and Crooked Lance to fight against the Pawnee?
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, breathing in the faint scent that was Maggie’s alone. Sitting there, his hands fisted around the arms of the wheelchair, he seemed to feel Maggie’s essence surround him. He felt her loneliness, the emptiness in her life. She was a beautiful woman, vibrant and alive. She should have a husband to cherish her, children to love. With all his heart, he wished he possessed the power to restore the strength to her legs, that he had the gift of healing that would allow her to walk again.
He looked up, feeling a little sheepish, as Veronica entered the room.
“It’s all right,” Veronica said. “We all do it.”
“Is there nothing that will help her?”
“The doctor says she could walk if she wanted to.”
Hawk ran his hands over the big black wheels. “I do not understand. If she can walk, why does she stay in this chair?”
“It’s her guilt that keeps her there,” Veronica explained. “The doctor says she feels responsible for her sister’s death and that her refusal to walk is her way of punishing herself.”
Shadow Hawk frowned. “I do not understand.”
“I don’t either. But when she wants to walk badly enough, she will. Now, I need the chair.”
Wordlessly, Hawk stood up, wondering what he could do to make Maggie want to walk again.
Shadow Hawk stood alone under a starlit sky, his head back as he gazed at the heavens. For a moment he thought of his people, his mother, wondering what had happened to them, frustrated because there was nothing he could do to help. Thinking of them, worrying about them, availed him nothing. He would go back to the cave when the moon was full and hope he could return to his people.
He let out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes, his spirit reaching out to Bobby. The boy had been gone for three days and Shadow Hawk yearned to know if he was well, if Wakán Tanka would grant the young man a vision.
Standing there, he heard the wind whispering through the pines that covered the Black Hills. He heard the gentle swoosh of wings as an owl skimmed the air in search of prey, heard the rustle of underbrush as a deer made its way toward a shallow pool to drink. His nostrils filled with the fragrant scent of the pines, of freshly turned earth where a skunk had dug a hole for the night. He felt the caress of the night wind on his cheek. And then, eyes still closed, he saw Heart-of-the-Wolf. The old man was dressed in white buckskins. White moccasins covered his feet. A single white feather adorned his hair, a thin slash of white paint bisected his left cheek.
As from far away, Hawk seemed to hear the sound of drums. He heard the rapid beat of an
Hawk sat back in his chair. He had come to enjoy the easy banter between the two women, just as he’d come to enjoy being the center of attention. In the village there hadn’t been much time to just sit back and relax. He’d spent many hours with Heart-of-the-Wolf, learning the ancient chants and healing skills of the Lakota. And because he was well liked by the other warriors, he was always invited to go along on a hunt or a raid. Though still a young man, he had been considered wise beyond his years and many of the young men had come to him seeking advice.
After breakfast, Veronica helped Maggie into the bathtub, then went into the laundry room to put in a load of wash. Alone, Hawk wandered through the house and then, on an impulse, he went into Maggie’s room and sat in her wheelchair. He thought of the years she had been imprisoned in the chair by her inability to walk, and tried to imagine what it would be like if he were crippled. Would he want to live if he couldn’t chase the buffalo across the vast sunlit prairie, or feel the wind in his face as he raced Ohitika across the plains? Would life be worth living if he couldn’t stalk the wily elk, or stand beside Red Arrow and Crooked Lance to fight against the Pawnee?
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, breathing in the faint scent that was Maggie’s alone. Sitting there, his hands fisted around the arms of the wheelchair, he seemed to feel Maggie’s essence surround him. He felt her loneliness, the emptiness in her life. She was a beautiful woman, vibrant and alive. She should have a husband to cherish her, children to love. With all his heart, he wished he possessed the power to restore the strength to her legs, that he had the gift of healing that would allow her to walk again.
He looked up, feeling a little sheepish, as Veronica entered the room.
“It’s all right,” Veronica said. “We all do it.”
“Is there nothing that will help her?”
“The doctor says she could walk if she wanted to.”
Hawk ran his hands over the big black wheels. “I do not understand. If she can walk, why does she stay in this chair?”
“It’s her guilt that keeps her there,” Veronica explained. “The doctor says she feels responsible for her sister’s death and that her refusal to walk is her way of punishing herself.”
Shadow Hawk frowned. “I do not understand.”
“I don’t either. But when she wants to walk badly enough, she will. Now, I need the chair.”
Wordlessly, Hawk stood up, wondering what he could do to make Maggie want to walk again.
Shadow Hawk stood alone under a starlit sky, his head back as he gazed at the heavens. For a moment he thought of his people, his mother, wondering what had happened to them, frustrated because there was nothing he could do to help. Thinking of them, worrying about them, availed him nothing. He would go back to the cave when the moon was full and hope he could return to his people.
He let out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes, his spirit reaching out to Bobby. The boy had been gone for three days and Shadow Hawk yearned to know if he was well, if Wakán Tanka would grant the young man a vision.
Standing there, he heard the wind whispering through the pines that covered the Black Hills. He heard the gentle swoosh of wings as an owl skimmed the air in search of prey, heard the rustle of underbrush as a deer made its way toward a shallow pool to drink. His nostrils filled with the fragrant scent of the pines, of freshly turned earth where a skunk had dug a hole for the night. He felt the caress of the night wind on his cheek. And then, eyes still closed, he saw Heart-of-the-Wolf. The old man was dressed in white buckskins. White moccasins covered his feet. A single white feather adorned his hair, a thin slash of white paint bisected his left cheek.
As from far away, Hawk seemed to hear the sound of drums. He heard the rapid beat of an
Similar Books
