Savage Skies

But tomorrow?

He would ride from the village with vengeance like hot coals inside his belly. He would not rest until he knew that Earl Mingus no longer drew breath.

“I feel much better about the storm now that you are with me,” Shirleen said.

“Storms pass, but other things of the heavens never die,” Blue Thunder said, hoping to distract her from her fear of the storm. He gazed into her eyes. “Have you ever been intrigued by stars?”

“Always,” she murmured. “I have spent many hours staring up at the night sky, oh, so mystified by the moon and stars.”

“You are aware of what is called the Milky Way by your people?” Blue Thunder asked, smiling into her eyes.

“Yes, I have often looked at it in wonder,” she said, remembering those nights when she had sat on her father’s lap on their front porch as he rocked her in the white wicker rocking chair.

“My people call it moch-pe-achan-ka-hoo, the backbone of the sky,” Blue Thunder said. “We believe it is as necessary to the support of the heavens as the backbone of any animal to its body.”

“That is a beautiful way to think about it,” Shirleen said. “My father would have loved that description of the Milky Way.”

“Would you like to hear what my people think about the moon?” Blue Thunder said. “It is not believed to influence men or plants, nor to have any other property except to give light by night. My people believe the moon is eaten up by a number of moles, and Wakonda makes a new one upon the destruction of the old moon.”

He placed his hands at her waist and lifted her to sit on his lap, facing him. “My woman, I know you feel sad about my uncle’s death, but where he will live upon his spirit’s arrival in the heavens is a place much better than any upon this earth. It is an Indian paradise, where there is perpetual summer, abundance of grass, beautiful women, and every comfort Dancing Shadow might ever wish for. Also, he will see his friends and relatives. No quarrels, wars, or bodily pain exist there. All live in perfect harmony. So we should not mourn his departure from this earth, but rejoice in his going to a better place.”

“I am a religious person and attended church regularly with my parents before I left home with Earl, but no preacher ever spoke so beautifully of heaven,” she murmured.

“That is because your heaven and the Assiniboine’s are vastly different,” Blue Thunder said softly.

“Then which Heaven will I go to once I become your wife?” she asked.

“My people’s because that is where I will one day go, and we shall never part once we have joined our hearts as husband and wife,” Blue Thunder said. He smiled as she flung herself into his arms and gave him a wonderful hug, making it clear that she did not want to part from him ever, even in death.

He now knew that he had definitely chosen the right woman to be his wife.

“My woman, I have something for you,” he suddenly said. He had not planned to give her the special gift just yet. He had thought to present her with this gift on their wedding day, but she had gone through so much of late, perhaps the gift would make her feel loved and appreciated even more than his words of encouragement.

“A gift?” Shirleen said as he gently lifted her from his lap. He took her hand and encouraged her to stand.

She turned and watched him go to one of his buckskin bags in which he stored his personal belongings.

When she saw what he took from it, her eyes widened. The fire’s glow revealed a necklace that Blue Thunder now held spread out between his hands as he came back and stood before her.

She could not take her eyes off it as the silver reflected the shine of the lodge fire. The silver was adorned with many dazzling turquoise settings in the shape of teardrops.

“This was my grandmother’s necklace, but never worn by her,” Blue Thunder said thickly. “My grandfather had it made for his wife, to present to her as a special gift. The day before he had planned to give it to her, she died.”

“How . . . sad . . .” Shirleen stammered.

“My grandfather gave it to me to present to the woman I chose to marry,” Blue Thunder said.

“Then it was . . . your . . . wife’s?” Shirleen asked, gazing into his dark eyes.

“My wife had already died,” Blue Thunder said softly. “My grandfather encouraged me to take another wife soon, not pine away for the one I had lost. My grandfather said that the necklace should be worn by that wife.”

“It is so beautiful,” Shirleen murmured, again looking at it and truly loving it.

“My grandfather was a wise man,” he said. “He was right to encourage me to take another wife. He has joined his wife in the heavens, but I wish he was here to see the one I have chosen to be my bride. He would have smiled at my choice.”

“Even though I am white?” Shirleen asked, searching his eyes.

“It is not always the color of one’s skin that is important,” Blue Thunder said, stepping behind her and fastening the necklace in place. “It is one’s heart that matters the most, and, my woman, yours is a good and caring heart. You will make the perfect wife for this Assiniboine chief.”