Noble's Way Read Free Page B

Kansas, she felt that they were married in the eyes of God. Her son and the Osages were the witnesses. Yes, she decided, from now on she would be Fleta McCurtain and never again regret leaving Arkansas.
    As soon as he swung off his horse in the gateway, Noble began sizing up the fort. Inside the hewed log post wall was a courtyard close to a hundred by hundred-fifty feet. A post or store was in the center. The leather hinges on the front door were rotten. He forced it open and entered. Although dusty and cobwebbed, the low ceiling caused him to smile. It would be a cosy place to winter.
    â€œCome on in to your house,” he shouted to Fleta, and stood aside to allow her entrance.
    Noble left her examining the house. He went to inspect the fort. There were stable sheds built off the side walls. Followed by the silent Spotted Horse, he stopped to examine the stone walled well. He dropped a packed snowball in it and was rewarded a few moments later by the reassuring splash of water.
    Noble walked back to the gateway and looked to the south. The plank gates were down and he decided they would require much repair to rehang. But when he viewed the white sea beyond, he was pleased with their new home.
    â€œSpotted Horse, who does this fort belong to?”
    â€œYou and me.” The Indian pointed at Noble then himself.
    â€œNo.” Noble tried to explain. “Is this an army fort?”
    â€œNo, long ago trader was here.
    That solved the mystery for Noble. Some trading company had apparently built this as an outpost, then abandoned it.
    â€œIt’s a good place,” he said, smiling with gratitude at the Indian.
    â€œPlenty good.”
    â€œNoble!” Luke came running. “We even have rats in the new house.”
    â€œWhat’s a house without rats?” Noble laughed and Spotted Horse joined in.
    As he approached the house, he wondered how his new wife was accepting all this. With surprise, he watched the two Osage men carrying Fleta’s things in the front door.
    â€œWait!” he shouted. “I’ll do that.”
    â€œNo,” Spotted Horse said, restraining Noble with his hand. “We help.”
    For a moment Noble questioned their motive. This was women’s work—at least in the Indians eyes—so they must be paying Fleta and himself a high compliment by humbling themselves with such activity. Damn, he had a lot to learn about Indians.
    In the fireplace Fleta built a small fire which produced not only warmth, but seemed to drive away a cold lingering spirit that inhabited the small house. She surveyed the room with satisfaction. A worn broom applied to the hard packed floor would make the place look even better. She had a roof and a home. Noble had even repaired the front door, so now it seemed like a secure haven.
    Later Mannah brought her some cold, cooked meat to heat up. Fleta found herself liking the tall, handsome woman, who dressed in buckskins decorated with beads and quills. She wondered why Mannah was childless, perhaps even barren. Her beauty and movements were graceful as a swan. Fleta initially was irritated by the Indian woman’s habit of giggling, but she had begun to dismiss it as a childish habit they never outgrew. Fleta felt a bond growing between herself and Mannah.
    Fleta found a good supply of dry buffalo chips in a lean-to behind of her kitchen. There was even a small amount of wood she must ration.
    Luke was in and out of the house reporting on the tepee raising going on outside. Breathlessly, he told his mother how the travois poles became the main support for the tepees. And he further explained in a voice filled with awe, of the paintings on the side of the tepees, drawings of horses, buffalo and hand prints.
    After fixing the door, Noble fetched water for tea, then left to check on the livestock. Mary Joseph and her baby came to sit beside her fireplace. Fleta felt a twinge of jealousy as she watched the young mother nurse the