The girl mumbled.
“I still do not understand. You must speak louder.”
“Rainbow,” the girl said. “Bright Rainbow.”
Evelyn chuckled. She had broken through. “That is a pretty name. I like rainbows. Do you like rainbows?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn stirred the soup, took a long sip, and smacked her lips. “Are you hungry?”
Bright Rainbow stared longingly at the pot. She rubbed her belly and said, “Very hungry.”
Evelyn patted the ground. “Then come eat. I have plenty. And after you have eaten we can talk.”
“Where is the man?” Bright Rainbow asked.
“I sent my friend away so he would not scare you. There is just you and me.” Evelyn gave the ground a few more pats. “You should eat while the stew is hot.”
Slowly, fearfully, Bright Rainbow approached. She took small steps and was poised to flee at the slightest hint of deception.
Evelyn sat perfectly still and smiled. She was tempted to lunge and grab hold once the girl was close enough, but she stifled the urge. To put her more at ease, she rambled, “Would you like to be my new friend? I would like to be yours. I did not have any sisters growing up and I always wanted one. Girls are easier to talk to than boys. My brother used to say I talk too much and would walk off when I bored him and…”
Bright Rainbow stopped and trembled and said in a tiny voice, “I had brothers.”
Evelyn remembered the remains in the lodge.
“Two of them.”
“I hope they were nicer to you than my brother was to me.”
“They were nice, yes,” Bright Rainbow said. “Fox Tail and Elk Running. It killed them. Both of them.”
“What did?” Evelyn asked, although she knew full well.
“The Devil Cat.”
“The what?”
“My people call it that. I thought my mother made it up. But it was real, as real as you and me.”
“Doyadukubichi,” Evelyn said, which was Shoshone for “mountain lion” or “cougar.”
“Kai.”
“No?”
“It is not a cat. It is a devil.”
By then the girl was near enough for Evelyn to touch. “Have a seat and I will feed you.”
Bright Rainbow folded her legs and delicately perched on her knees, her hands in her lap. She could not take her eyes off the bubbling stew.
“You have not eaten a meal in a while.” Evelyn stated the obvious.
“No.”
Evelyn heard the girl’s stomach growl. She ladled stew into a tin cup and held it out. “I have plenty so eat as much as you want.”
Bright Rainbow stared at the cup as if she had never seen one before. She tentatively went to wrap her hand around it.
“Be careful,” Evelyn cautioned. “It is hot. Use the handle.” She demonstrated how to hold it.
“A great thing,” Bright Rainbow said. She tried a taste and her face lit with pleasure. “You are a good cook, Blue Flower.”
“My mother is ten times as good. Her cakes make your mouth water and her bread is always delicious.”
“My mother…” Bright Rainbow began, and her face clouded. She stopped and bit her lower lip and said, “I miss her. I cry and cry, I miss her so much.”
Against her better judgment Evelyn asked, “What about your father? Did the Devil Cat get him, too?”
“He pushed me in a hole and…” Again Bright Rainbow stopped. Tears welled, and she bowed her head and spoke in a rush. “I saw him die. I saw him turn and stab at the cat with his spear and his knives and I think he cut it, too, but the cat was too big and too strong and it jumped on his chest and pinned him and tore at him with its teeth and its claws and he…” She stopped and shuddered.
Impulsivly, Evelyn threw her arm around the girl’s frail shoulders and pulled her close. “Enough,” she said. “Do not relive his death.”
Bright Rainbow closed her eyes, set down the tin cup, and groaned. She uttered a loud sob and her whole body shook, and suddenly she was weeping in Evelyn’s arms, her face pressed against Evelyn’s dress. She cried and cried and cried and cried some more, and Evelyn held her and stroked her hair and patted her back and said over and over, “There, there.” Bright Rainbow wept herself dry and finally stopped and sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve.
“I am sorry.”
“For what?”
“I made you wet.” Continuing to sniffle, Bright Rainbow pulled away and tucked her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her thin legs.
“It is nothing.”
“I heard him scream.”
“You do not need to tell me,” Evelyn said.
“I saw the Devil Cat tear at him. I saw his blood. He tried not to cry out. He grit his teeth and the veins in his neck stood out and then he threw back his head and he screamed and screamed.”
“Please stop.”
Bright Rainbow quaked. “He looked at me and I saw how scared he was. Then he smiled.”
“Oh God,” Evelyn said in English.
“He smiled and he looked at me as he used to when he held me in his arms and told me that he loved me.” Bright Rainbow pressed her face to her knees. “The cat bit his throat and that was the end.” She wept some more, quietly, her hands clenched so hard, her knuckles were white.
Evelyn was patient with her. She hadn’t lost her parents or her brother, but she had lost friends and others she cared for and keenly remembered her sorrow. She could imagine what the girl was going through.
On all sides of them the valley buzzed and chirped and chattered with life and vitality.
After a long interval Bright Rainbow sniffled and raised her head. Her cheeks glistened but her eyes were dry. “I am sorry.”
“Stop saying that.” Evelyn stroked her matted hair. “Finish your soup and then we’ll talk some more.”
Bright Rainbow ran her sleeve across her face, leaving a smear. She resumed eating, cradling the cup in both hands. She had eaten about half when she turned to Evelyn and said, “As soon as I am done we must leave.”
“You are in no condition to ride,” Evelyn said. She planned to clean the girl up and get more food into her and wait for her folks.
“We must,” Bright Rainbow insisted.
“Finish your stew.”
Bright Rainbow gripped Evelyn’s arm. “You are not listening to me. Heed my words.” She paused. “If we do not leave, we will die.”
Chapter Fifteen
Degamawaku rode hard for the pass, climbing through thick timber. Ordinarily he would not push his horse so hard, but he was worried about Evelyn. He did not want to leave her alone. He did not want anything to happen to her.
Dega had never been in love before. He had liked some of the girls in his village, liked them a lot, but none had claimed his heart as Evelyn King had. She was all he thought about when he was not with her, all he dreamed about when he slept.
Dega hated that they had argued. He hated that his mother had caused a rift between them. But he didn’t hold her at fault. His mother had been right; he did owe it to his people to do what he could to restore the Nansusequa to as they were. A terrible responsibility had been placed on his shoulders, and the weight was driving a wedge between Evelyn and him.
A tree limb materialized and Dega ducked. He concentrated on his riding. He would be the first to admit he was not a good rider, but then, the Nansusequas had never used horses. The first time he sat a horse was when Nate King gave them one as a gift.
Nate King. Now, there was a man Dega respected. For a while after the massacre of his people he had hated whites, hated all that they were and all that they stood for. Then he met the Kings. Evelyn had stirred him from the moment he set eyes on her, and her father had proven to be as considerate and decent as any Nansusequa ever born. As his people would say, Nate King had a good heart. So did Evelyn. Her brother, Zach, was different. Zach had a darkness about him, a passion for violence that burst from him as a stream burst its banks in a flood.