place in the tribe.”
“Your wife! How can that be? I don’t want to marry a savage. Besides, there is no priest to perform the ceremony.”
Wind Rider snorted in disgust. “No holy man is necessary. According to tribal laws and tradi tion, once the bride enters her husband’s lodge they are wed.” He didn’t say that divorce was accomplished just as easily. All a woman had to do was leave her husband’s lodge and they were considered divorced.
“I won’t do it,” Hannah insisted stubbornly. “It won’t be legal.”
“Would you prefer death? Or perhaps,” he added with a hint of malice, “you would prefer Cut Nose. It wasn’t my wish to join with you, but it was either that or watch them kill you.”
Hannah thought neither of those choices particularly palatable. Obviously Wind Rider expected no argument; he went to the back of the tepee and found his bow and quiver of arrows, then ducked beneath the flap. Hannah followed him outside. “Where are you going?”
“Hunting. Woman-Who-Waddles will bring you appropriate clothing for tonight and help you erect our honeymoon lodge.”
”H-honeymoon lodge?”
“It is the custom for the bride to erect a lodge out of sight of the village where the bride and
groom can be alone to get to know one anoth er. They are expected to remain there seven suns or, in your tongue, one week.”
”A week?” Hannah squeaked in disbelief. “Whatever do they do for an entire week?”
Wind Rider’s lips quirked upward. “For a whore you are incredibly stupid. I hope you can remember all the ways in which you pleased your white lovers. It will be interesting to learn if white women act differently between the blan kets than Indian maidens.”
Hannah’s mouth dropped open, shocked by Wind Rider’s words. It hit her with stunning impact that tonight she would be expected to lie with the handsome savage. His hands would be all over her body; he’d touch her with his lips, his mouth, and he’d force his way into her body. He’d learn the truth, and never again would he call her whore. Just the thought of what tonight would bring sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Tongue-tied, she watched him stalk off to join his friends, who were already mount ed and waiting for him.
Woman-Who-Waddles appeared the moment Wind Rider left. She giggled and rolled her eyes as she pulled Hannah through the woods to a remote site close to the river. Two women were already there, struggling with a large tepee. They pulled Hannah into their midst, showing her how to place the tent poles and stretch the buffalo skins around the exterior. Within an amazingly short time the honeymoon lodge was ready for occupancy. The two women left and returned shortly with an armful of soft skins and furs for the bed.
Grasping her hand, Woman-Who-Waddles and the others pulled Hannah toward the river. In short order they stripped her of the worn doeskin tunic given to her by Spotted Doe and ducked her beneath the placid sur face of the water. Then they literally attacked her with soap plant, scrubbing until her hair and skin was sparkling clean. Wrapping her in a soft blanket, they led her back to Wind Rider’s tepee.
The next hours were spent grooming Hannah’s hair and dressing her in a pure white doeskin tunic richly embroidered with beads and lavishly fringed. Hannah exclaimed over it with delight, which seemed to please Woman-Who-Waddles. Sometime during the long afternoon Hannah heard the hunters return, but since none of the women under stood English she could not question them about tonight’s ceremony. The drums began beating at dusk, and Hannah was more fright ened than she had ever been in her life.
The women left her then, all but Woman- Who-Waddles, who hovered over Hannah like a mother hen. Suddenly the tent flap opened, and Spotted Doe ducked inside. She faced Hannah squarely, her face dark with hatred.
“It should be I joining with Wind Rider today/’
“You speak
“Your wife! How can that be? I don’t want to marry a savage. Besides, there is no priest to perform the ceremony.”
Wind Rider snorted in disgust. “No holy man is necessary. According to tribal laws and tradi tion, once the bride enters her husband’s lodge they are wed.” He didn’t say that divorce was accomplished just as easily. All a woman had to do was leave her husband’s lodge and they were considered divorced.
“I won’t do it,” Hannah insisted stubbornly. “It won’t be legal.”
“Would you prefer death? Or perhaps,” he added with a hint of malice, “you would prefer Cut Nose. It wasn’t my wish to join with you, but it was either that or watch them kill you.”
Hannah thought neither of those choices particularly palatable. Obviously Wind Rider expected no argument; he went to the back of the tepee and found his bow and quiver of arrows, then ducked beneath the flap. Hannah followed him outside. “Where are you going?”
“Hunting. Woman-Who-Waddles will bring you appropriate clothing for tonight and help you erect our honeymoon lodge.”
”H-honeymoon lodge?”
“It is the custom for the bride to erect a lodge out of sight of the village where the bride and
groom can be alone to get to know one anoth er. They are expected to remain there seven suns or, in your tongue, one week.”
”A week?” Hannah squeaked in disbelief. “Whatever do they do for an entire week?”
Wind Rider’s lips quirked upward. “For a whore you are incredibly stupid. I hope you can remember all the ways in which you pleased your white lovers. It will be interesting to learn if white women act differently between the blan kets than Indian maidens.”
Hannah’s mouth dropped open, shocked by Wind Rider’s words. It hit her with stunning impact that tonight she would be expected to lie with the handsome savage. His hands would be all over her body; he’d touch her with his lips, his mouth, and he’d force his way into her body. He’d learn the truth, and never again would he call her whore. Just the thought of what tonight would bring sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Tongue-tied, she watched him stalk off to join his friends, who were already mount ed and waiting for him.
Woman-Who-Waddles appeared the moment Wind Rider left. She giggled and rolled her eyes as she pulled Hannah through the woods to a remote site close to the river. Two women were already there, struggling with a large tepee. They pulled Hannah into their midst, showing her how to place the tent poles and stretch the buffalo skins around the exterior. Within an amazingly short time the honeymoon lodge was ready for occupancy. The two women left and returned shortly with an armful of soft skins and furs for the bed.
Grasping her hand, Woman-Who-Waddles and the others pulled Hannah toward the river. In short order they stripped her of the worn doeskin tunic given to her by Spotted Doe and ducked her beneath the placid sur face of the water. Then they literally attacked her with soap plant, scrubbing until her hair and skin was sparkling clean. Wrapping her in a soft blanket, they led her back to Wind Rider’s tepee.
The next hours were spent grooming Hannah’s hair and dressing her in a pure white doeskin tunic richly embroidered with beads and lavishly fringed. Hannah exclaimed over it with delight, which seemed to please Woman-Who-Waddles. Sometime during the long afternoon Hannah heard the hunters return, but since none of the women under stood English she could not question them about tonight’s ceremony. The drums began beating at dusk, and Hannah was more fright ened than she had ever been in her life.
The women left her then, all but Woman- Who-Waddles, who hovered over Hannah like a mother hen. Suddenly the tent flap opened, and Spotted Doe ducked inside. She faced Hannah squarely, her face dark with hatred.
“It should be I joining with Wind Rider today/’
“You speak
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