Lakota Flower Read Free Page A

covered a cannon whose fire—he recalled from past experience—roared like thunder during its use; it was a symbol of the white man’s encroachment, greed, and impending plans. The awesome weapon must be destroyed so it could not be used against his people or their allies. He knew the hard object could not be chopped to pieces with stone or even the white man’s iron hatchets, but he could place it where the soldiers could not find it. After today, a least there would be fewer weapons and men to battle them.
    He returned to where Caroline awaited him, her head lowered again. “War Eagle tie hands? Yes? No? You be good? Bad?”
    When she lifted her head, her gaze revealed sadness and reluctant compliance. He knew he was to blame for thelosses of her joy and spirit, but he quelled his strange reaction.
    Caroline saw his momentary wince as if he felt guilty about hurting her feelings and intentionally frightening her, yet, she knew he could neither apologize nor explain the motive for his sudden sternness. Perhaps he only had corrected his prior slip toward her and was putting things back in the proper order for their captor/captive relationship before they joined the others for departure. Though she had seen his other side and could not forget it, she knew it was perilous to defy or to befriend him before his band. “I will be good, unless you try to harm me.”
    War Eagle was aware of her intense scrutiny. He reasoned that she was thinking over her situation and accepting it. “Get possessions from wagon. We ride for camp.”
    Caroline nodded her gratitude and obedience. She climbed aboard the wagon to gather what she could carry easily on a horse, which didn’t include her two travel trunks. She flung them open, grabbed a fabric bag, and stuffed simple clothing and a few of her favorite things inside it: the Sims family Bible, several photographs, and a rag doll her mother had made for her as a child. She didn’t gather frilly dresses and hats or satin slippers or thick petticoats, as they would be unsuitable in her new surroundings and role. She hated to leave her belongings behind, but she could take only so many items with her, and those must be practical ones. She rushed because she didn’t know how much time he would give her to make her choices.
    At one point, she glanced back at the cannon that was bolted to the wagon bed. She remembered that he had looked inside, so he knew it was there—a weapon of great power and destruction, and perhaps the reason for his attack. War, she mused, was a costly, cruel, and sacrificial event that men believed they must engage in from time to time, no matter how much suffering and loss their families had to endure. Could she blame him and his people for trying to protect themselvesand their lands? She pushed those grave matters aside and returned to her selection task.
    When she uncovered the black dress she had worn at her parents’ burial, she clutched the wrinkled garment to her heart, closed her eyes, fought back tears of renewed grief, and took a deep breath. If only they were still alive, and if only that unscrupulous and greedy banker had not snatched away her own and David’s inherited property—home, furnishings, land, stock, even her mother’s best jewelry—to cover a large and alleged overdue loan she could not pay, or if only the grim news had reached her brother in time for him to take an emergency leave to thwart that man’s evil, or if she had accepted William Crawford’s proposal, she would still be in Georgia, safe and free.
    Despite her dire straits after her many losses, she could not bring herself to marry William. He was considered by most females to be a good catch, but she did not love or desire him, and she had not believed he would be a good husband or father for her children, regardless of his social status or exceptional looks or charming traits. So she had packed her remaining possessions and left the South to begin a new life in the West