Chapter 27
Colorado, 1867
The dusty trail led them to the outskirts of the Kiowa village, the conical shapes of teepees rising up against the vast prairie horizon. A lookout emerged from behind a teepee, a long rifle in his arms and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His long black hair was braided and adorned with fur wrappings. Róisín trembled slightly at the sight of the fearsome man but remained silent at Buck's side.
"Hā́chò!" Buck reined in his horse and called out in the Kiowa language. "T'àu:páu Kopé ah kauhn."
The lookout let out a sharp yip and raised his arm, signaling them to proceed. Róisín leaned closer to Buck as they rode between the teepee formations. Very few ventured out onto the muddy trail that wound through the heart of the camp, but as Buck and Róisín's horses traipsed through the clinging sludge, she noticed the canvas flaps adorning the teepee entrances would occasionally lift with curious movement.
A pack of semi-wild dogs roamed the area, snapping at each other or begging for scraps. The pungent aroma of tanned leather and woodsmoke hung thick in the air. Despite the peaceful atmosphere of the village, Róisín couldn't shake the feeling that all eyes were on the outsider passing through their home.
In the center of the village circle, a group of imposing warriors were engaged in some sort of animated discussion, gesturing frequently with their hands. One locked eyes with Róisín as she passed, and she shrank instinctively against Buck.
He guided his horse towards the edge of the camp, where a slightly larger and more ornately decorated teepee stood apart from the rest. As they approached, a tall and powerfully built man emerged, his weather-beaten face creasing into a wide smile.
"P'ah-be!" Red Bear exclaimed, his eyes taking in Buck's battered state and the exhausted woman beside him.
"Hā́chò p'ah-be." Buck slid off his horse wincing as the pain ripped through his body. Before he could offer assistance to Róisín she had already dismounted and made her way to his side, her fingers clinging tightly to his shirt.
"Háundéóñ:dé èm bóñ!" Red Bear grabbed Buck's arm in greeting.
"Hàu:! ám:ál." Buck nodded.
Róisín stood frozen, a silent observer caught between two worlds. The rapid-fire Kiowa words flew back and forth between Buck and his brother, unfamiliar. A sudden burst of laughter erupted, followed by a bear hug that seemed to solidify their bond. Relief washed over Róisín as Buck turned to her, a weary look in his eyes. He drew her close, his arm settling possessively on her shoulder, and gently ushered her through the entrance of the teepee, the promise of welcome and safety.
Róisín's mouth gaped open as she looked up into the large teepee. Inside the teepee, a small fire crackled in the center pit. Along the wall around the inside were painted images that what looked like a record of their history. A few blankets hung, separating sections of the teepee. Pelts of furs and blankets lined the edges as makeshift beds.
"Róise." Buck's voice broke her from her trance. "This is my brother Red Bear, and his wife Sweetgrass Woman."
"You have looked better." Red Bear chuckled.
Buck stifled a laugh causing stabbing pain in his ribs, radiating through his back. Red Bear helped ease Buck onto a pile of furs with a grunt of pain. Sweetgrass Woman retrieved thick blankets, draping them over Buck as Róisín helped prop him upright with murmured words of comfort.
They sat in a circle when out of the shadows of the opposite side of the teepee, beyond a hanging blanket, four young children came padding across the ground to sit by the fire. With a grin, Buck conversed with his brother in Kiowa. The brothers back and forth for several minutes before Red Bear laughed. Róisín smiled awkwardly as Buck turned to her.
"I told my brother I see what keeps him so busy," Buck whispered to Róisín as he motioned to the children.
"My brother should remember," a glimmer of humor flickered in Red Bear's eyes. "I also have stories to tell."
A weary grin stretched across Buck's face as he gratefully accepted the steaming bowl Red Bear offered.
Red Bear boomed with laughter, a sound that resonated through the teepee. "Eat, little brother," he commanded. "Get your strength back."
Sweetgrass Woman passed around a pot of stew that filled the teepee with a warm, inviting aroma. Buck and Róisín devoured the hearty meal, Buck even requesting a second helping. As the last embers of the fire died down, casting long shadows across the teepee interior, and the children's soft snores filled the air, Red Bear's gaze settled on Buck. The playful glint had vanished, replaced by a deep seriousness.
"Tell me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Why have you come?"
Buck explained in a low, gravelly voice about Carson's attack, Róisín's murdered brother, and their intent to go out west. "We need a place to rest this winter."
Red Bear grunted in acknowledgment. He then turned to his wife and spoke in hushed tones. Sweetgrass Woman listened intently, her dark eyes flickering between Buck and Róisín. With a swift nod of understanding, she rose to her feet and addressed Róisín directly.
Buck turned to Róisín. "She's askin' for your help."
"Oh...of course," Róisín replied as she quickly rose to her feet.
The two women worked together to fashion a blanket curtain across one section of the teepee. When it was done, Sweetgrass Woman smiled at Róisín.
Red Bear helped Buck to his feet with a groan. "Háundéóñ:dé èm âui:tsàn. P'ah-be."
Buck managed a smile, weak but brimming with gratitude. "Goodnight," he rasped, his voice heavy with exhaustion. With a gentle hand guiding Róisín's back, he ushered her towards a section of the teepee partitioned by a thick, woven curtain. "This here's our space," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as Róisín cast a surprised glance around the curtained area. "We close it up for privacy at night, but keep it open during the day."
Seeing the look of surprise on her face, Buck gave her a slight grin and explained. "It's our culture, the home is shared between parents, children, siblings, and some of their families."
Róisín's eyes widened at the thought, but she said nothing more. She helped Buck arrange the furs and blankets into a crude bed. As she lay beside him, her back against his side, the sounds of the village slowly died down outside, replaced by the whistle of wind against teepee walls. In the darkness, she could make out the murmured endearments between Red Bear and Sweetgrass Woman.
"Do you know what they're saying?" She whispered.
"Words of love, an exchange between husband and wife." Buck chuckled softly. "The same in any language."
Smiling to herself, Róisín felt Buck's warmth against her back as she drifted to sleep, comforted by the thought of two hearts so entwined.