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Authors: Constance O'Banyon
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could turnfor help. There was no one. The neighbors really had stopped coming around after her father married Barbara, so she couldn’t ask them for help. If she was going to get away, she would have to save herself, she thought with stubborn determination!
She dried the tears from her face and sat up. Yes, she was her mother’s daughter, and she wouldn’t give up until she was free!
Chapter Six
Tag opened his eyes, trying to focus them amid his confusion. It took him a few minutes to realize that he was in Windhawk’s lodge. He sat up slowly, searching for his sister. With a sweeping glance, he discovered that he was alone in the lodge. He found to his relief that the pain in his chest wasn’t nearly as acute as it had been, and he was hungry. It took several tries and considerable effort, but finally he managed to stand up by holding on to the lodgepole.
He noticed that his chest was wrapped and bandaged, and knew that it was Joanna’s handiwork. He had vague, shadowy memories of her feeding him and forcing liquids down his throat.
Tag staggered toward the opening, pushed back the flap, and walked outside. His glance automatically went to his own tipi. No smoke rose from the top opening as it did from all the other tipis, and he realized for the first time that Morning Song wouldn’t be there to greet him.
Tag was wearing only a breechcloth, and he began to feel the cold. It was snowing lightly, but a strong wind whirled the flakes about so they weren’t sticking to the ground. Turning around, he stumbled back into the lodge. He was feeling weak and shaken so he sat down beside the cook-fire to get warm, hoping his body would soon stop trembling.
That was where Joanna found him when she came in a short time later. When she saw her brother with his face buried in his hands, her first instinct was to rush to him and take him in her arms to give him comfort, but she realized just in time that sympathy was not what he needed at the moment. What he needed was her strength.
“I am glad you are finally up, Tag. I hope you are hungry,” she said, trying to sound cheerful.
Blue eyes locked with blue eyes, speaking a language that could not be put into words. Their eyes told each other of their sorrow and spoke of the comfort they could find in each other.
Without another word, Joanna walked to the cook-fire, sliced a piece of meat from the roasting spit, placed it in a dish, and handed it to her brother.
“It’s snowing again,” Joanna said.
“I know.”
“Do you want to talk?”
“Yes, Joanna, I want to talk, but not about…Morning Song. Speak to me of the weather. Talk to me about the gossip that is circulating about the village. Say anything, Joanna, but don’t mention Morning Song.”
Joanna held back her tears, knowing he was dealing with his grief in the only way he could. She wished she could hold him and tell him everything would soon be all right, as she had when he had been a child…but he was no longer a child, and there were no magic words that would make the pain of grief go away.
“I think I know what you need, Tag. There is someone who needs you as much as you need her. She will help you get through this,” Joanna said, standing up and walking over to the cradle where his daughter lay.
Tag watched as she picked up the baby and carried her over to him. He felt guilty that he hadn’t even given the baby a thought. He hadn’t even known that his own baby was a girl. When Joanna handed the infant to him, he hesitated foronly a moment before he took her in his arms. Staring down into the tiny face, he felt nothing but emptiness.
“I will just leave the two of you alone to get acquainted,” Joanna told him.
Tag didn’t even notice that his sister had left as he held the baby awkwardly. He felt panic for the moment, since he knew very little about babies. He watched as his daughter opened her eyes and began to cry. Her cry seemed to reach inside him, and he realized that she was a
She dried the tears from her face and sat up. Yes, she was her mother’s daughter, and she wouldn’t give up until she was free!
Chapter Six
Tag opened his eyes, trying to focus them amid his confusion. It took him a few minutes to realize that he was in Windhawk’s lodge. He sat up slowly, searching for his sister. With a sweeping glance, he discovered that he was alone in the lodge. He found to his relief that the pain in his chest wasn’t nearly as acute as it had been, and he was hungry. It took several tries and considerable effort, but finally he managed to stand up by holding on to the lodgepole.
He noticed that his chest was wrapped and bandaged, and knew that it was Joanna’s handiwork. He had vague, shadowy memories of her feeding him and forcing liquids down his throat.
Tag staggered toward the opening, pushed back the flap, and walked outside. His glance automatically went to his own tipi. No smoke rose from the top opening as it did from all the other tipis, and he realized for the first time that Morning Song wouldn’t be there to greet him.
Tag was wearing only a breechcloth, and he began to feel the cold. It was snowing lightly, but a strong wind whirled the flakes about so they weren’t sticking to the ground. Turning around, he stumbled back into the lodge. He was feeling weak and shaken so he sat down beside the cook-fire to get warm, hoping his body would soon stop trembling.
That was where Joanna found him when she came in a short time later. When she saw her brother with his face buried in his hands, her first instinct was to rush to him and take him in her arms to give him comfort, but she realized just in time that sympathy was not what he needed at the moment. What he needed was her strength.
“I am glad you are finally up, Tag. I hope you are hungry,” she said, trying to sound cheerful.
Blue eyes locked with blue eyes, speaking a language that could not be put into words. Their eyes told each other of their sorrow and spoke of the comfort they could find in each other.
Without another word, Joanna walked to the cook-fire, sliced a piece of meat from the roasting spit, placed it in a dish, and handed it to her brother.
“It’s snowing again,” Joanna said.
“I know.”
“Do you want to talk?”
“Yes, Joanna, I want to talk, but not about…Morning Song. Speak to me of the weather. Talk to me about the gossip that is circulating about the village. Say anything, Joanna, but don’t mention Morning Song.”
Joanna held back her tears, knowing he was dealing with his grief in the only way he could. She wished she could hold him and tell him everything would soon be all right, as she had when he had been a child…but he was no longer a child, and there were no magic words that would make the pain of grief go away.
“I think I know what you need, Tag. There is someone who needs you as much as you need her. She will help you get through this,” Joanna said, standing up and walking over to the cradle where his daughter lay.
Tag watched as she picked up the baby and carried her over to him. He felt guilty that he hadn’t even given the baby a thought. He hadn’t even known that his own baby was a girl. When Joanna handed the infant to him, he hesitated foronly a moment before he took her in his arms. Staring down into the tiny face, he felt nothing but emptiness.
“I will just leave the two of you alone to get acquainted,” Joanna told him.
Tag didn’t even notice that his sister had left as he held the baby awkwardly. He felt panic for the moment, since he knew very little about babies. He watched as his daughter opened her eyes and began to cry. Her cry seemed to reach inside him, and he realized that she was a
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