Devil Moon

Chapter Nine

The bright afternoon sun bathed the deep blue of King Lake.

Evelyn slowed her horse from a trot to a walk as she neared the east end. She was always so eager to see Degamawaku that she yearned to rush into his arms. But that would be unseemly. So she walked Buttercup up to the Great Lodge in the shade of the tall trees and dismounted. No one was about. She walked toward the opening and stopped short when Dega’s father emerged. “Hello, Wakumassee,” she said.

Waku was dressed all in green. He had a broad chest and a high forehead and always carried himself straight and tall. Smiling warmly, he clasped her hand. “Evelyn King.” His English was thickly accented. He was trying hard to learn the language and doing the best of all of them, Dega included. “My heart very happy to see you.”

“I came to talk to Dega.”

“He not here,” Waku told her. “He went walk a while ago and not back yet.”

“Oh.” Evelyn tried to hide her disappointment. “Do you know which way he went?”

“I not notice. Sorry.” Waku gestured at the Great Lodge. “Want come in? We have tea your mother give us.”

“No, thank you.” Evelyn was only interested in seeing Dega. She scanned the woods and spied a figure approaching. “There’s Tihikanima. Maybe she knows where he is.”

Tihikanima came out of the trees. On seeing Evelyn she spread her arms wide and smiled and embraced her.

“How do you do?” Evelyn said politely. The mother was always friendly to her, but for some reason Evelyn never felt entirely comfortable around her.

Tihikanima spoke to Wakumassee and he translated.

“My wife say she much happy to see you. She say you like daughter to her. Always welcome.”

“Thank her for me,” Evelyn requested, “and please ask her if she has seen Dega.”

Waku translated, then said, “My wife say she not see our son. She say him maybe not back until dark.”

“Oh.” This time Evelyn let her disappointment show. “I was hoping to talk to him. I want to ask him to go on a picnic with me tomorrow.”

“What is picnic?” Waku asked.

“We would take food in a basket and go for a ride,” Evelyn explained. “Find a good spot and eat it.” She refrained from mentioning that secretly she hoped to keep him out overnight.

“That sound nice.” Again Waku translated for the benefit of his wife. “Tihi say we tell Dega when him come back.”

“Thank her for me.” It struck Evelyn that the mother hardly ever spoke English or even tried to, and she wondered why that was. She turned and climbed on Buttercup. “My ma wanted me to remind you that your family is invited to Sunday supper.”

“We be there,” Waku assured her. “Thank mother.”

“I will.” Evelyn rode to the south along the shore. She was glum. Putting off the picnic another day or two really made no difference except that she’d had her heart set on doing it the next day. She gave her Hawken an angry shake.

Ahead, several does were drinking. They raised their heads and pricked their ears, then bounded off with their tails erect.

A large snake slithered in among a cluster of rocks. Evelyn only caught a glimpse and couldn’t tell what kind it was. To be safe, she reined wide to avoid it. They’d had problems with rattlesnakes recently and she’d fought shy of snakes ever since. She was near the edge of the woods and instinctively raised her rifle when a shadow moved.

“How you be, Evelyn?”

Her heart bursting for joy, Evelyn drew rein. “Dega!” she exclaimed happily, and vaulted down. She ran to him and went to throw her arms around him and then glanced back at the Great Lodge and the figures standing in front of it, and stepped back. “How are you?”

“I fine,” Dega said.

Something in his tone suggested otherwise. Evelyn wanted to take his hand, but his parents might see. “I just talked to your ma and pa. They told me you had gone for a walk.”

“I thinking of you.”

Evelyn grinned in delight. “I can’t stop thinking of you, either. Last night I could hardly sleep, I wanted to be with you so much.” She glanced toward the lodge again and turned her back to it. “Why don’t we walk a little ways? I have an idea you might like.”

Dega fell into step beside her. “It pretty day.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Nansusequa thank Manitoa for pretty days,” Dega said, plainly struggling with his English.

“That’s nice.” Evelyn didn’t understand why he was bringing it up.

“Who whites thank?”

Evelyn’s puzzlement grew. “We’ve talked about this before. What you call Manitoa, whites call God Almighty. Whites give thanks to him for everything.”

“Manitoa and God not same.”

“They are close enough.” Evelyn sidled closer so their shoulders brushed as they walked. “Why talk about that when I want to talk about us? Wouldn’t it be great if we could get away for a spell by ourselves?”

“Get away?”

“Go off alone. Just the two of us.” Evelyn stopped and faced him and looked into his eyes. “What do you say? I’d like for us to go on a picnic. I’ll pack the food so all you have to bring is yourself. We can leave tomorrow, early. I’ll tell my folks that we’ll be back by dark, but if we’re not, well…” She grinned and shrugged.

“What is pic-nic?”

“I just told you. It’s where you take food off into the wilds and eat and talk and things. Wouldn’t you like that? You and me and no one else?”

“Where we go?” Dega asked. “Somewhere in valley?”

“Oh no.” Evelyn lowered her voice as if others could overhear. “This valley is big, sure, but we never know when my brother or Shakespeare or somebody might come along. So I was thinking we should go where no one else would bother us.”

“Where that be?”

Evelyn lowered her voice even more. “Do you remember a while ago when we found a pass up on that mountain to the north?”

“How I forget?” Dega replied. “We meet bad men who try kill us.”

“My pa and my brother took care of them. We’ll be safe if we keep our eyes skinned.” Evelyn touched his hand. “Pa and Uncle Shakespeare were going to close the pass with black powder, but they never got around to it. If we go through to the other side, no one will disturb us.”

“That is far for pic-nic.”

“Maybe so. But it’s worth it for the privacy.” Evelyn touched both his hands. “What do you say? Would you like to go? We can talk and eat and have a lot of fun.”

“I would like talk,” Dega said.

“Then it’s settled.” Impulsively, Evelyn rose onto the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

“I must tell Father and Mother. Maybe they not want me go.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Evelyn asked. “They’ve let us go riding before. Besides, I mentioned it to them and they didn’t say they minded.”

“You tell them we maybe not back by night?”

“It didn’t come up.”

“Not good to keep”—Dega scrunched up his face as he searched for the right word—“secret.”

“It’s not as if we’re lying to them. If anything, we might be fibbing, and a little fibbing never hurt anyone.”

“I not understand. Lie is lie.”

“Do you want to be with me or not?”

“I want you very much, yes.”

“Then quit nit-picking. Be at my pa’s cabin as soon after sunrise as you can. I’ll be ready and waiting.” Evelyn wanted to kiss him again but restrained herself. “It will be wonderful. You and me and no one else. Just as if we were married.”

“Married,” Dega said.

“Don’t look so panicked. It’s not as if I’m proposing.” Evelyn laughed and turned. “You have made me the happiest girl alive.”

“I have?”

“Dega, I feel…” Evelyn stopped and shook her head. “No. I’ll save it for when we’re alone.”

“Save what?”

“We have some serious talking to do.”

“Yes,” Dega said. “We do.”

Evelyn climbed on. “Remember. As early as you can so we make it over the pass by ten or so and have the rest of the day to ourselves.”

“I be early,” Dega promised.

Evelyn used her heels on Buttercup. She barely noticed her surroundings; she was floating on inner clouds of joy. Her plan was working.

Several geese honked, bringing Evelyn out of herself. A hawk was flying over the lake, and its shadow had caused them alarm. “Silly things,” she said to herself. She remembered her father saying that he intended to shoot a goose before the weather turned cold, and her mouth watered. She liked goose and duck meat almost as much as mountain lion, which was her favorite. She’d balked the first time a plate of painter meat was put in front of her, but that first forkful changed her mind. It was delicious.

Smoke was rising from the McNairs’ chimney. Evelyn half expected Shakespeare or Blue Water Woman to hear her horse and come out, but their door stayed closed.

Pale patches high on the cliffs to the west caught her eye. Mountain sheep, she reckoned. She had seen them up close a few times when she was younger and marveled at how they scaled sheer cliffs with the greatest of surefooted ease.

All the horses save hers were in the corral. She stripped off her saddle and draped it over the top rail and made sure to close the gate behind her or her father would have a fit. Whistling to herself, she strolled inside. Her mother was at the counter, chopping carrots. Her father was the table, reading one of his many books. She greeted them while propping her Hawken against the wall.

“Your mother tells me you’d like to go on a picnic tomorrow.”

“It’s all set,” Evelyn said.

Nate King put down the book. “I want you to be careful, little one.”

“I’m not so little anymore,” Evelyn responded. It annoyed her that he couldn’t seem to accept the fact that she was practically a grown woman. She went to the table and sat across from him. “Have you seen sign of any hostiles or beasts I should know about?”

“No. It’s been peaceful.”

Winona looked up from her carrots. “That is what worries him. He is always waiting, as the whites say, for the other shoe to drop.”

“A person can’t be too cautious in the wilderness,” Nate said. “Not if he wants to go on breathing.”

“We’re only going on a picnic,” Evelyn said.

“Tell that to the griz that stumbles across you. Or the war party out to count coup.”

“You killed the last grizzly in our valley,” Evelyn reminded him, “and the hostile tribes mostly leave us be.”

“I had to kill the griz. It was trying to kill me,” Nate said. “And the Blackfoot Confederacy and others leave us be because they don’t know where we are.”

“I’ll be careful,” Evelyn promised.

“I want you back by nightfall.”

Evelyn smoothed her dress and flicked a speck of dust from her sleeve.

“Did you hear me, daughter?”

“Yes, Pa.”

Nate grunted and returned to his book.

Evelyn was amazed at her audacity. Here she was, outright lying to her father. There was a time, not that long ago, when she wouldn’t think of doing such a thing.

“Care to help me?” Winona asked from the counter. “We need potatoes peeled and cut.”

“Sure,” Evelyn said. She fetched the potato sack from the pantry and carried it in both hands to the counter. From a drawer she took a wood-handled knife with a narrow curved blade, and set to work. She had peeled potatoes so many times she could do it with her eyes shut. It gave her time to think about the morrow and Degamawaku.

“Are you here, daughter, or up in the sky with the birds?” Winona asked good-naturedly.

“I’m standing right next to you.”

“The look in your eyes tells me your body is here but the rest of you is somewhere else.”

“Can’t a person think around here without being pestered?” Evelyn said sharply.

Winona stopped chopping carrots and turned. Nate put down his book and shifted in his chair.

“Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

“I’m sorry, Pa,” Evelyn said quickly.

“I’m not the one you snapped at.”

“I’m sorry, Ma. I don’t know what got into me.” Evelyn set down the knife and the potato and quickly crossed to the front door and stepped out into the glare of the hot sun. She walked toward the lake, scattering chickens in her path, and came to the water’s edge. Clasping her hands so hard her knuckles hurt, she pretended not to notice when her shadow became two.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Winona asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Something is bothering you. I would like to soothe your spirit so you are yourself again.”

“There’s nothing,” Evelyn insisted.

“Did you see nothing when you went over to visit the Nansusequas?” Winona asked.

Evelyn stared out over the rippling surface of the water. Part of her wanted to stay silent, but another part recalled how caring and considerate her mother had always been, and she softened. “I feel things I’ve never felt before.”

Winona ran a hand down the blue beads that adorned her doeskin dress. “All women go through what you are going through.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

“No, it does not. One day you are a girl, the next you are a woman. One day you are playing with dolls, the next you think only of them. I remember how it was when I met your father. Until he came into my life, I did not give men much thought. Then something happened inside me and I was never the same.”

“It’s confusing.”

“Very.”

“There are times when I want to scream.”

“As loud as you can, yes.”

Evelyn turned. “What do I do, Ma? What do I do?”

Winona smiled and hugged her. “You do what every woman before you has done.”

“What is that?”

“You follow your heart and hope for the best.”