The following morning Adam rose as the sun, still shrouded behind the peaks of the mountain range that stood sentinel over the village, was starting to lighten the eastern sky. The light was dim but it was bright enough for Adam to make his way to the creek. There he hacked away at his beard with the razor that he'd sharpened on the leg of one of his leather boots. Without any soap, and a mirror to see what he was doing, it was a slow and careful task to remove the last vestiges of hair from his face. He used the latent memory of his everyday shaves at home, and touch alone, to undertake his shave but at last he could feel that all the beard and moustache were gone.
When he approached Cameahwait's lodge to break his fast, he was met with a gaggle of children who reached up to stroke his face, chattering away nineteen to the dozen and keen to study the razor and see how it worked. Adam showed how it unfolded from its handle and how he could run the blade over his cheeks. They reached up to grab it but Adam, laughing, held it over his head out of reach and playfully shooed them away. He noticed Wanekia preparing the meal. She had seen the clean shaven Adam walking towards the tepee, and Adam had been gratified to notice her do a small double take when she realised that it was he. She blushed and looked away but not before a tiny smile drifted across her lips. Cameahwait merely lifted his chin in approval when he saw Adam's face.
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The next few weeks were a time of learning and evolving as Cameahwait took it upon himself to rid Adam of his 'white man's bad habits' and adjust Adam to life in an Indian village.
Cameahwait had refused to let Adam hunt, proclaiming that he had all the stealth of a buffalo who had stumbled into a hornet's nest. Adam remembered with a sad smile how Hoss had been the undisputed champion when it came to tracking. He was so attuned to the seasons and to the creatures that walked the earth, that no matter where he was, whether it was the windblown high country with its hidden waterfalls, soaring ponderosa pines and rocky granite peaks, or the thickly forested sides of the blue lake that was so integral to the Cartwright boys' nature, Hoss could track man and beast with ease. Hoss's abilities were so renowned throughout the territory - had been renowned, Adam reminded himself sadly - that he had been called upon to lead posses, tracking down fugitives and outlaws. But Hoss was gone, and that just left Adam. Adam was no amateur when it came to tracking. He could track a wolf or cougar with the best of them. But he was no Hoss and as he discovered when Cameahwait took him out into the woodlands, trekking up to the high tree line, his skills were sadly lacking in comparison to the Indians.
Adam could easily identify animal tracks and follow them successfully. Cameahwait though would pull him back roughly time and again to point out signs that Adam had missed: evidence that an animal was moving at speed or cautiously; where it had stopped; what it had done when it had halted; signs that it was injured. Adam's patience would be stretched as, with calm deliberation, and keeping his voice as controlled as he could, he would point out that he knew the animal was injured. To which Cameahwait would ask how it was injured and when Adam couldn't answer, Cameahwait would explain what could be learnt from the creature's prints or a mark on a tree trunk or a barely distinguishable scratch on the ground. And despite Adam's impatience at being treated like a wet behind the ears boy, he couldn't deny that he was taking in invaluable knowledge.
Cameahwait blamed Adam's short hair for his deficiencies. "If you had the long hair of my people, you would have better instincts, Adam Cartwright. When your hair is long, you will think and see like me."
Adam raised an eyebrow; there was not a lot that he could say to that. His hair was longer than he was used to but it had only grown a small amount, and not enough to satisfy Cameahwait's exacting requirements.
Cameahwait wasn't even happy with how Adam moved when following a creature in the wilds. He had dropped to his ankles and run his fingers through his hair in exasperation when he had asked Adam to show how quietly he was able to walk through the woodland. Cameahwait had exclaimed that Adam's footsteps were enough to waken even the spirits of the dead. So Adam was taught how to move and observe in the age old way of the Indian people. With his feet clothed in soft moccasins Adam was shown how to place his heel on the ground first and to then roll his foot forward onto the ball of his foot. The trackers would walk in a single file, placing their foot noiselessly into the spot that had just been vacated by the person in front. It took time to perfect and made tracking a slow and meticulous process, but Adam was now able to walk in complete silence through a forest bedded with twigs and leaves. He found it to be very calming. With his new ability to stay completely silent, he would notice sounds that he would not have picked up on before. He began to feel more attuned to the world around him, to the signs that could be read in the trees and the plants. Adam had always felt his skills in reading animal behaviour or the indicators for weather were good. He now knew he'd been sadly lacking as Cameahwait educated him to see what he'd not seen before.
Within a few weeks he was joining the other men on their daily hunts. Armed with all manner of weapons from bows to spears to rifles, they would set off before the sun had properly risen to take advantage of the creatures that, ironically, felt most secure when the shade of night had fallen. Cameahwait had given Adam a rifle to use and this was one area in which Adam did shine. He was a masterful shot, more accurate with the weapon than the Indians with their limited practice were. On his first hunt he successfully took down an adult male mule deer. The other young men, including Nashoba, who had accompanied Adam and Cameahwait on the ill-fated trip to the trading post, looked with begrudging admiration at Adam. He was still a white man in their midst, but with every passing day he was accepted a little more as one of them. Nashoba walked over to Adam as he stood over the dead animal and nodded sharply at him. Adam knew this was an acknowledgement of his new found skills in stealth and his talent with a rifle. And as they made their way back to the village, Adam was aware of respectful glances being sent his away, and felt contented because of it.
The carcass of the deer was handed over to the women of the village to prepare the evening's meal. The venison would also provide jerky for the upcoming winter and its skin would be made into rawhide. Adam caught Wanekia's eye as he and Nashoba dropped the animal at the feet of the women. It was hard for him to drag his eyes from her face, but he knew he had to be discreet; no one could know that Adam and Wanekia were steadily, and without question, falling in love with each other. During the weeks when he had been learning his new Indian skills, he had barely seen her from dawn to dusk. The only times they had been able to speak was when she served his meals to him and he would occasionally, but only occasionally for propriety's sake, ask her to sit by her side while they ate. Cameahwait's youngest child, Yazhi, usually settled herself between his legs, eating off of Adam's plate, and on those occasions when he could talk to Wanekia, he would pull the child up on to his knee and use her as a barrier between Wanekia and himself. It was then that he was able to learn more about her, and her history, as she talked about her marriage to her first husband and her life before she married Cameahwait's brother. And he saw the profound sadness in her eyes as she told of the child she had borne who had died of a childhood disease when just a few months old.
As one or the other would rise from where they sat cross legged around the fire their fingers would surreptitiously touch as they moved to stand up. For Adam these tiny moments when he could feel her skin against his were tantalising but oh so brief. He longed to feel her arms wrapped around his body again but opportunity never arose until one late mid-November morning when he unexpectedly found himself alone with Wanekia in the forest behind the village. The morning was frosty. Adam could see his breath materialise in puffy white clouds as he enfolded himself in a fur blanket and wandered into the woods to empty his bladder. He was so taken with the beauty of the woodland in the early morning light that he walked much deeper into the forest than he usually did. Although the pines were dropping and the colour was being drawn from the trees, the crisp light made everything seem sharp to his view. The highest branches of the trees appeared silhouetted against the sky, and the green of the pines were so dark, they were almost black. And hovering a foot above the ground a hazy mist drifted over those most hardy of plants that were starting to shrink back into the earth to survive the winter.
It was then that he saw her. She too was wrapped in a blanket for warmth. Moving slowly across the forest floor, with her head searching the ground from side to side, she would occasionally bend over to pull a root from the earth which was then thrown into the wide basket she carried in the crook of one arm. Adam decided this was the perfect opportunity to practice his new found skills. Dropping to a crouch, he placed his feet in the way he had been taught and moving from tree to tree and staying out of her vision, he managed to edge up slowly behind her. He removed his fur blanket, placing it quietly on the earth at his feet and positioned himself behind a wide trunked tree, waiting for her to move closer.
Wanekia was a couple of feet away from Adam and completely unsuspecting when Adam reached out and grabbed one of her wrists. She yelped and dropped her basket, scattering roots around her feet as Adam pulled her towards him. He placed one palm softly over her mouth so she wouldn't make another sound. As recognition entered Wanekia's eyes, Adam took his hand away from her mouth and slowly released her wrist, moving his hands to tenderly caress her upper arms. Her blanket slipped off her shoulders and dropped to the ground. He leaned back against the trunk of the tree, lowering himself slightly to her height so her feet were in between his and she had to lean against him as he held her.
She stared at him with the last vestiges of surprise in her eyes then breathed his name with relief and longing. But Adam didn't want words. He relaxed his face into a dimpled smile and after a few moments tilted his head to kiss her. Wanekia stopped him with a finger to his lips. She wore a look of intense concentration as she ran her finger carefully over his mouth, pausing at the scar that cut into his top lip. Her touch made his breath quicken and his mouth dropped open slightly. She flicked her eyes up to his and watched him as she delicately touched the tip of her finger to the moist fleshy part of his bottom lip. Adam gripped her arms tighter as he felt his desire building and his control lessen.
Having finished her exploration she moved up to kiss him. But Adam was so intoxicated by the vision of her in front of him, by her look of yearning and the boldness in her eyes as she had watched him react to her touch, that he wanted to examine every inch of her skin and breathe her in. As she closed her eyes and leaned back, Adam knew she was expecting his mouth against hers. Instead he placed his hands on either side of her face and gently brushed his lips across her forehead and her eyelids and her temples. He took his time to softly kiss every inch of skin. As he worked his way down her cheeks, he could feel her body tensing within his arms and her breathing accelerating. She clutched the front of his shirt as he pulled her tighter against his body, until finally his mouth hovered tantalisingly over hers. With one last breath and each body as taut as an animal snare, they couldn't hold back any longer and yielded to the need they both craved.
Adam curved his arms around her, pressing her closer to him. Wanekia crept one hand to the back of his neck but kept the other grasping his shirt; she felt if she let go she would collapse on the ground from the tremors that were threatening to overtake her. They kissed desperately and hungrily. The desire that had been building in both of them since that first exquisite encounter by the creek found an intense release. Hands once under control now roamed, grasping the other's back and neck, never staying still as for several blissful minutes they forget where they were or who they were and just gave in to the intensity of the kiss. Neither one of them felt the rawness in the air, so lost were they in each other's grip.
It was Adam who broke away first. He came up for air, murmuring, "Oh God, Kia," as he placed his cheek next to hers. Wanekia had never heard her name shortened before. She liked it. She also knew straightaway that she'd never let anyone but him call her that. Their intermission was short as Adam sought out her lips again and they renewed their ardent embrace. But with their hunger sated, they slowed and took their time, relishing a kiss that was sensual and deep.
A twig snapped behind them.
They both froze and slowly prized their lips apart. Without moving from Adam's arms, Wanekia carefully looked around the side of the tree. The tension within her body eased and her head fell against his shoulder in relief. Adam shifted away from the tree trunk and peered around to see a mule deer standing a few feet away. As it caught sight of Adam's movement it bounded away with a stiff-legged gait.
Wanekia looked up at Adam. "You must go," she whispered. Adam wanted to stay, to lose himself in this woman's arms for all eternity, but he knew she was right. Regretfully pulling himself up to his full height, he retrieved her blanket from the earth and wrapped it carefully around her shoulders. With his hands pulling the warm covering together, he bent down to softly kiss her lips. Wanekia grasped his hands as his lips brushed hers, but just as quickly as he had come, he was moving away, grabbing his fallen blanket as he went and moving silently away into the woodland.
Wanekia pressed her hands to the tree trunk and watched him go. She knew she had fallen so deeply in love with him that if he were to leave she would shrivel up and die. Her feelings for Adam had been ignited from the moment he had been dragged into the village on the back of Cameahwait's travois. He was different to any of the young men of her village and she admitted to herself that maybe it was this difference that excited her. But she'd also seen a strength and determination in him as he fought through the fever and delirium that had ravaged his body. She believed it was his sheer strength of will that had brought him back from almost crossing over to the unknown lands of the afterlife. She had heard him call out in his ravings for his brothers and his father and watched as he had cried with all the pain and anguish of the broken hearted. She had wanted to comfort him, to pull this inconsolable man to her breast and rock the hurt away. But the fever had broken and he had settled into a sleep that seemed to last forever. When Adam eventually awoke he remembered nothing of his emotional outbursts or of the woman who had sat so diligently by his side, enamoured by his obvious love for his family and drawn to his physicality like a honey bee to a spring blossom.
And although he had been broken by the knowledge of his family's death and had seemingly given up on life, again she had watched as he had finally won the battle he had waged within himself and returned to the world once more. Wanekia knew his withdrawal was because of the desolation he felt at the loss of his father and brothers. It had touched the very core of her heart. And as he started to live again, she had been impressed by his willingness to throw himself into a life so opposite to his own.
Wanekia would list to herself the worthy virtues of his character in order to justify her growing attraction to him. His strength and determination, his gentle interactions with the children, the love he felt for his family, his courage in the face of overwhelming change, his tenderness. However she couldn't hide from herself the truth: that she was overcome by her reaction to his sheer physical presence. He was taller and broader than most of the men in the village, Cameahwait being the exception, and his lack of a smooth chest and arms excited feelings in Wanekia that she'd never known before. When she had cared for him, there wasn't a single part of his body that she hadn't seen, or bathed or wiped the sweat from at the height of his fever. And when he had calmed into that long endless sleep, she would skim her fingers slowly over his chest, just lightly enough to feel the soft dark chest hair stimulate her finger tips. Cameahwait nearly caught her on one occasion but luckily had been distracted by something outside as he'd drawn back the tepee's flap and hesitated before stepping through. After that near miss, Wanekia didn't touch Adam again in that way.
And in the weeks that followed, as her eyes surreptitiously followed him as he moved around the village regaining strength in his weakened muscles, she would recall in her mind's eye how his chest hair tapered down below his navel and remember the feel of his strong legs beneath her hands as she had tended his wound. The resultant tightening in her belly would be so sudden and exhilarating that she'd have to steady herself before she could continue what she was doing. When he looked at her with those dark, long lashed eyes, they seemed to see right into the very centre of her being. She had found herself longing to touch his mouth which, at rest, curved up slightly creating a look of permanent bemusement. So when he had started to kiss her just now, she had taken her chance to study his sensuous mouth, feeling a thrill of excitement course through her when she had run her fingers across his lips. When he had removed his beard, and she had seen those lips unadorned by facial hair for the first time in weeks she had almost had a physical response as he'd walked towards her. It had taken all her self-restraint to not leap on him there and then, to not wrap her arms around his body in front of the whole village.
Wanekia knew she was in love with Adam because this was an emotion she was experiencing for the first time in her life. At the time of her marriage to Shilah, Cameahwait's brother, she had believed it had been a good one. He had been a reliable husband, hard-working, an excellent hunter and tracker. If Shilah was on a hunt, the village was almost guaranteed a good stock of meat for the coming months. She would work alongside him, turning meat into jerky for the winter, skinning hides for clothing and making rope from rabbit skin. They made a good pair. She felt comfortable with him and they took pleasure in each other's company. And Wanekia had believed that what she felt for him was love. It was only now, she realised, that what she had felt for Shilah was nothing more than affection. The passion she felt for Adam was a whole new sensation for her.
As a child, when Wanekia and Cameahwait's families would join for council or ceremony, Wanekia would be drawn to Shilah. He was the same age as her and their families were bonded by marriage and ancestry. He became her best friend. They would laugh together, cause mischief and forever be running side by side, giggling at their escapades. So when the time was right, it seemed only fitting for everyone involved that Wanekia would become Shilah's wife. She didn't have the right to object and why would she? He would be a good husband to her, she knew him better than anyone. She was wed to him in a quick and simple ceremony in her own village and with a breaking heart had had to leave her parents and siblings and the only life she had ever known to accompany Shilah and his parents back to their village as his wife.
Their life together was warm and comforting, but although Wanekia believed it was love she felt for her husband, she recognised, even then, that her life with Shilah lacked a certain… fire. In an environment such as they lived, it was not uncommon to hear the sounds of love-making in the lodges, especially in the depths of night when the land was at its most silent and sound carried farthest. For Wanekia and Shilah though, their couplings were quiet, dutiful, passionless. For Wanekia it had been nothing more than an obligation that she, as a wife, would have to submit to. She concluded that not everyone was meant to enjoy this most intimate of activities and that it was her fate to be one of those unfortunates. It did not occur to her, until she met Adam that is, that there had been no passion because Shilah had been more of a brother to her than a husband. She realised now that the affection she had felt for Shilah had been one that is felt for a best friend, a family member. She had not loved him the way a wife should love a husband because she wasn't attracted to him in that way. Wanekia felt nothing when Shilah touched her; she wasn't revolted or disgusted, she merely felt nothing at all. When Adam touched her though, all the nerve endings in her skin seemed to fire at once, causing a shiver to run through her as if she'd been hit with a blast of cold air. Despite their marital shortcomings, she had never stopped caring for Shilah, and she knew he had been a good husband to her. He had treated her with kindness and they were still able to laugh together even if their night-time fumblings only seemed to bring satisfaction to her husband. And when he had died, she had mourned as a good wife should. In her heart she had stopped grieving long before Adam had come to the village though custom and obligation meant she had to maintain a veneer of sorrow even though she no longer felt it.
Dropping to her knees and pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, Wanekia absent-mindedly retrieved the fallen roots and tubers that had been scattered when Adam had pulled her to him. Staring at his retreating figure she wondered if she would ever be able to be with him the way she yearned to. Although alone, she blushed at the thoughts in her mind. She was a grown woman acting like a lovesick girl! She also longed for a time when they wouldn't have to walk deep into woodland and hide behind trees to be together, or when they could be alone in a tepee without causing shame to fall on her family. She wanted to be able to hold his hands and look at him openly without the need for secrecy. But for now, she would have to be content with the faint brushes of their hands at meal times or the rare times, such as these, when they found themselves alone and hidden and no one was any the wiser. Wanekia picked up her basket and slowly made her way back to the village.
XXXXXXX
Wanekia was so consumed with thoughts of Adam, that she didn't see the elderly Indian make his way out into the open from where he'd been standing, and watch her as she walked back towards the village. He had observed the pair as they had kissed passionately in the misty woods. He had seen as the deer approached the tree where they had been leaning in a clinch against the rough bark and raised an eyebrow when they had started in surprise, believing they had been caught in their incriminating act. And as the white man had tenderly kissed her goodbye and walked away, the old man had stayed hidden as he saw Wanekia fumble with the roots on the ground, her eyes on her lover and her thoughts a million miles away.
The man was Otetiani, the village elder who, with two short sentences, had convinced Adam that his family were dead and sent him into a spiral of grief and desolation. For these two young people to be exhibiting behaviour such as they had done was shameful and could bring dishonour on Cameahwait's family. Otetiani knew he could not stay silent over what he had just seen. But there was something in the way that Wanekia and the white man had embraced and held each other which spoke of more than just lust and salacious desire. It spoke to Otetiani in such a way that he recalled his own youth and the tumblings and caresses that he had enjoyed with his own precious love, now long departed to the world above. He had observed Adam tenderly kiss Wanekia's face and had recognised the look in their eyes which only appeared in the eyes of two people who were deeply in love. It conjured remembrances in him that stirred sensations he'd not felt in a long time. But something would have to be said, he could not stay silent about what he had seen between the white man and the young widow.
Later that day, Otetiani summoned Cameahwait to his fireside. Quietly and with the sparsity of words that characterised his speech, he disclosed what he had seen. And as Cameahwait's eyebrows drew together in a frown and he immediately took umbrage at Adam Cartwright's presumption towards one of the women of the village, Otetiani calmed his nephew with the words borne of age and experience.
"The white man is like the lone wolf. He is separated from his pack." Otetiani pulled his fur closer around his shoulders. His old body felt the cold keenly at this time of year; the chill permeating his bones despite his nearness to the fire. "Would you have the white man live as the wolf who wanders the earth alone?" His eyes watched the flames dance before him. "Every day he is less white man and more Ute. We have made him so. If he is the one you seek, would you have him live this life without the warmth of a woman by his side?"
The old man stopped speaking, recalling his own solitary nights and seeing the empty space where once his wife had lain.
Cameahwait pondered his words. After many minutes of contemplation, he raised his eyes from the fire.
"Adam Cartwright is a good man. He grows stronger. His heart is true. He is not like other white men who seek to take but not give back. I had thought of him living amongst us, but I had not considered him with…" Cameahwait's voice trailed off.
"Wanekia has been alone a long time. She has grieved for many seasons." Otetiani's slow words were soft in the dim light of his tepee. "Is it that the white man loves your brother's wife, Cameahwait? Is that what angers you?"
Cameahwait looked up, nodding as though in agreement. "That may be so, uncle. You see what I do not." Cameahwait readied himself to rise. "I have seen the spirit of the hawk many times in the last few days. He flies high but his cry reaches my ears. He calls me to him."
Cameahwait climbed to his feet. "I will leave today."
