“In her own time, yes, she will tell him,” Swift Horse said, nodding.
Suddenly Marsha was aware of a rushing sound that was unfamiliar to her. She gave Swift Horse a questioning look, which he understood.
“We are almost there,” he said, smiling.
“We are almost where?” she asked, even more aware of the rushing sound, which now sounded like splashing water to her, yet much more deafening than any she had ever heard before.
They rode free of the forest and Marsha saw a place that she would describe as nothing less than a paradise. It was a waterfall, with lovely flowers growing on each side, and a rainbow amidst the splash of the water.
“Come and let us sit and talk,” Swift Horse said, taking her reins. He swung himself from his horse and helped Marsha from her saddle. He tied the reins together on a low tree limb, and they both sat down on a boulder and watched the waterfall rushing downward to where it finally splashed into the river far below.
“I find the falls to be medicinal, sacred waters,” Swift Horse said, his eyes watching the rush of the water downward. “When I am here I feel my own spirit strengthened and I also feel the spirits of my ancestors who have come here before me, to meditate and pray.”
He gazed over at her and took one of her hands in his. “I wanted to share this special place with you,” he said. “Although the wound on your face caused by the fire is all but healed, it is your soul that I feel needs to be comforted. I want to help erase that terrible day from inside your heart and mind, as best it can be erased. I know that your parents’ death will always haunt you. I would like you to find acceptance and peace.”
“I feel so many things while I am sitting here with you,” Marsha murmured. “I do feel peace inside my heart, and I feel as though I might be able to finally accept my parents’ deaths. Yet there is something inside me that will never go away until . . . that . . . man . . .”
He purposely interrupted her, in order to cut short her thoughts on the evil man while they were there together in such a special place. “He, too, will one day be only a bad memory,” he reassured. “It will fade until you will no longer be burdened with the memory of what he did.”
“I shall never forget his face,” Marsha said, visibly shuddering.
“That, too, will fade,” Swift Horse reassured. “And when he is captured and made to pay for the crime, your heart will no longer ache for vengeance. It will finally be achieved.”
She so badly wanted to tell him that until she convinced everyone that the killer was the man whom Swift Horse called his best friend, she would never be able to rest.
“Please tell me more about your people,” she pleaded because she did not want to think of the one-eyed man any more today. This was a special, private time with Swift Horse, the man she now knew that she would adore and love forever.
“Sitting here, where I feel spirits all around us, it will be my pleasure to teach you about my people,” Swift Horse said, slowly looking around him at the autumn leaves, at the flowers, and at the filmy foam of water as it cascaded down from above, to the river below.
“Esaugeta Emissee, the Master of Breath, is a kind spirit who watches over my Creek people,” Swift Horse explained, gazing over at Marsha and seeing her interest by how she leaned forward, listening. “We believe in spirits and magic, and hold the rattlesnake and the wolf in high esteem.”
“Magic?” Marsha said, her eyes widening. “What kind of magic?”
As they sat there so attentive to each other, they were unaware of another presence. One Eye lurked close by behind bushes, watching and plotting. He had to stop this thing between Swift Horse and the white woman soon. He had a plan, but he had to make certain that Swift Horse could never discover that it was his best friend who had killed the woman. One Eye treasured the friendship and loyalty between him and Swift Horse too much to chance losing it.
He crawled away from his hiding place and then ran stealthily beneath the trees until he reached where he had left his steed. He led his horse away on foot, making certain it walked on a thick cushion of leaves so that his presence would not be detected.
Chapter 17
Nymph of the downward smile, and sidelong glance,
In what diviner moments of the day
Art thou most lovely ?
—John Keats
Swift Horse continued to teach Marsha about his people, encouraged by her occasional soft gasps of wonder.
“My people often use charms to bring good fortune and we fear bad omens,” he said, shivering when he thought he heard a movement behind him, then relaxing again. “We tell stories of mythical creatures like the Tie snake. These are ordinary looking snakes that hold great power. They live beneath the surface of creeks and rivers, where they have built whole cities. Occasionally they capture my people and pull them beneath the water, sometimes to drown them, sometimes to welcome them to their underwater dwellings, where the visitor is given special gifts.”
“They actually capture . . .” Marsha gasped, her color paling.
Swift Horse placed a comforting arm around her waist and drew her close to him. “Do not fret over such things,” he reassured. “Although it is said these things are true, in most of my people’s minds and hearts they know that the tales are mythical.”
“Then I don’t have to worry about tie snakes?” Marsha asked, swallowing hard.
“I was wrong to tell you such things,” he said, seeing that he had truly put fear into her heart when what he wanted was to make her forget the other things that were ugly. In a way, it did seem that he had succeeded, at least for the moment.