Read Online Wind Warrior (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon - Free Book Online

she ever would be again.
    She prayed silently that Aunt Cora and Uncle Matt would find her and take her home, even though in her heart she knew that was not possible.
    How would she endure living with these savages for the rest of her life, however short that turned out to be?
    What would happen if she snuck out of the tipi and made her way across the river and into the woods?
    That was foolish thinking—she could never make it to freedom in her condition. But later, when she wasn’t being watched so closely, she would look for a chance to escape.
    If she didn’t believe she would one day escape and find her way back home, Marianna would lose all hope.
    She remembered the crazy white woman who had been brought to Fort Benton, and shook her head.
    “My name is Marianna,” she whispered over and over, determined to repeat her name every night before she went to sleep. “My name is Marianna Bryant. My home is Fort Benton.”

Chapter Eight
    Several months later, Marianna stood in the frosted air, watching wild geese on their migratory flight, their numbers stretching endlessly across the bluest sky she had ever seen. There were clouds gathering in the north, and she thought it might rain before long.
    She was beginning to pick up threads of the Blackfoot language, so she could at least communicate. She had found life hard in the Blackfoot village, but there was also companionship and loyalty—joy in the children who played in the shadows of the vast mountains.
    The young girls worked beside their mothers, learning crafts that had been handed down through unknown ages. It was the women who really sustained the family units; they toiled from morning until night, their hands never idle. The warriors spent most of their time hunting and providing food, while young boys were given freedom to practice and learn how to use weapons.
    Marianna wore a soft doeskin gown and moccasins, and found them to be quite comfortable—certainly more suited to the weather than her own gown, which had been in tatters when she’d arrived in the village.
    Chief Broken Lance frightened Marianna when he turned his dark gaze on her. But he hardly noticed her at all, even though they shared the same tipi. Marianna noticed how loving he was to his wife, Tall Woman, so he must be a good man. She’d never thought of Indians showing affection, but in many ways Broken Lance and Tall Woman reminded her of Aunt Cora and Uncle Matt.
    The biggest surprise to Marianna came the day she understood enough of the Blackfoot language to discover she was considered their daughter. The old woman who had treated Marianna’s broken arm told her that white army troopers had killed Tall Woman’s own daughter, and that she had been captured as a replacement for that dead child. Marianna wondered how anyone could take children away from their own families and expect them to learn a new way of life.
    Marianna also didn’t understand how Tall Woman could accept her so easily when she was white, like the men responsible for her daughter’s death.
    Tall Woman placed her hand on Marianna’s shoulder. “You have toiled enough for one day. Go to the other maidens and speak to them. Try to make friends with them.”
    “Lillian—”
    “Daughter, your friend’s name is now Spotted Flower. Charging Bull insists she be called by that name, and he has that right.”
    “But it is not her real name.”
    Tall Woman’s eyes grew sad. “You must let the past go. I have seen how the others turn away from you because you do not make an effort to know them.I want you to be accepted for who you are. But those young maidens do not know you as I do. Let them see the person you are and they will acknowledge you.”
    Ducking her head, Marianna was overcome by strong feelings for the kind woman who called her daughter. It would be hard to explain to Tall Woman that she was standoffish with the other girls because she did not know how to act around them—their customs were new to her,