Swift Horse

“My wife!” he cried. “Soft Wind, you are now my wife!”

Soft Wind clung to him, giggling, her long black hair flying around her face as Edward James took one more spin with her, the skirt of her long doeskin dress fluttering around her ankles.

Suddenly loud cheers, followed by chants, filled the huge chamber as the women left the rotunda and returned with all assortments of food. Soon everyone had their wooden plates filled—deer, peaches and apples, sweet potatoes, corn, and a variety of wild nuts and berries.

Marsha had left momentarily, then came back with a surprise for her brother and his new bride. She had baked a three-layered wedding cake that was covered with white icing. Of course it was not enough to feed everyone, but its presence drew gasps of wonder as the people gazed upon something they had never seen before.

“In my culture, it is custom to have a wedding cake,” Marsha explained, then went and gave her brother and then Soft Wind a hug. “Congratulations. I hope you both will be happy.”

“Thank you for the cake,” Edward James said, holding his sister’s hand as well as his bride’s, as he looked over at Soft Wind and saw the look of awe in her eyes as she still gazed at the cake.

Marsha stood on tiptoe and whispered into her brother’s ear. “Give her the first bite,” she urged.

Edward James smiled and nodded, then took up a knife and sliced a piece from the cake. He turned to Soft Moon and gently placed the piece to her lips. She smiled up at him as she took a bite.

Marsha edged up close to Soft Wind and handed her a piece that she had sliced for her. “It is your turn to give your groom a bite,” she said, glad when Soft Wind took the cake and did as she suggested.

Then Marsha addressed the crowd. “I wish there was enough for everyone,” she said, smiling around the room at the Creek people. “But I’m sure you see that there is only enough for the bride and groom.”

Everyone nodded, then Swift Horse stepped up to Marsha’s side. “Those who wish to dance can go where a huge fire has been built at the outskirts of the village where there are less trees!” he shouted. “It is a time of merriment!”

People began filing out of the building until everyone was gone except for Edward James, Soft Wind, Marsha, and Swift Horse.

“I am ready to dance!” Soft Wind announced as she grabbed Edward James by an arm. “Come. Let us dance with the others!”

Edward James gave her a wary look. “But are you strong enough?” he asked, smoothing a lock of fallen hair back from her flushed cheeks.

“I am strong enough to do anything, especially now that I have my husband to do it with,” Soft Wind said, her eyes brilliantly wide, her smile radiant. “I am so happy, Edward James. Oh, so happy!”

Edward James drew her into his arms and kissed her, then gave Swift Horse a wink as he gazed across Soft Wind’s shoulder at him, then took Soft Wind’s hand and left the rotunda.

Marsha turned to Swift Horse. She gazed up at him, smiling. “And what was that wink for?” she asked softly.

“It is because I told him that we would not join the dancing, but instead go elsewhere to be alone,” Swift Horse said, taking her hands, drawing her closer. “Or do you wish to dance, instead?”

“I doubt that I know how to dance your people’s dances, and even if I did, you know that I would rather be with you,” Marsha murmured. She thrilled when he brought his lips down onto hers and gave her a passionate kiss, causing a tremoring warmth to enter her belly.

“I have made a special place for us,” he then whispered against her lips. “Tonight some might think we are the newlyweds, not my sister and your brother.”

A quick blush heated Marsha’s cheeks as she looked into his eyes, then walked hand-in-hand with him from the rotunda, her insides warmed through and through by what Swift Horse seemed to be implying—that they would be making love!

She had been taught that it was not right to make love before vows were spoken, but strangely enough, she did feel as though she were already this wonderful man’s wife. And soon they would be married, so nothing would dissuade her from what she expected to happen only moments from now.

As they stepped outside, Marsha could hear music and laughter. She gazed up at Swift Horse. “It does sound like fun,” she murmured.

“We can still go there, if you wish,” Swift Horse said, trying not to show his disappointment.

But he understood that this must be her first time to make love, and perhaps she was bashful and hesitant to do so.

“I would like to take a quick look, if you don’t mind,” Marsha said, truly needing more time now that she knew what lay ahead. What if she wasn’t a skilled enough lover? If she disappointed him, would he even want her as his wife?

She felt some apprehension, but she knew that she wanted to go through with it, for she had had a strange sort of hunger inside her after having met Swift Horse, and she had to believe those hungers were sexual.

He took her by the hand and walked her into the village.

They stood back and watched, Marsha all eyes. She smiled when she found Edward James with Soft Wind among the dancers, amazed at how skilled her brother was with this sort of dancing, which was so vastly different from that which he had been taught in Georgia.

With the accompaniment of skin-covered wooden and pottery drums, gourd and turtle-shell rattles, and a singer, men and women, separately or together, danced in a slow shuffle or wildly animated motions. Suddenly scores of shell-shaker girls joined the men in a dance with a rapid tempo, the sound now almost deafening.