Free Song Of The Warrior by Georgina Gentry

going to be a warm day out here in the sun, but if it’s your choice …” He turned to Willow and waited. “Well?”
    She realized she had been anticipating him putting his big hands on her waist, lifting her from the buggy, then she remembered it wasn’t part of his culture. To put hands on a woman who was not related in any manner or who did not belong to him would be unthinkable. Willow managed to get down from the buggy with all the children clamoring to carry her books and slates.
    The serious, chubby girl, Atsi, was back and this time, she had the toddler boy by the hand. “May I bring Wolf to the lessons?”
    The toddler looked up at Willow with big, sad eyes and began sucking his thumb.
    â€œThe Wolf Cub’s really too young,” Willow said.
    â€œOh.” The girl looked crestfallen. “Then I can’t come today, my old grandmother is looking for my big sister and I must care for him.” As she turned to go, Willow caught her arm.
    â€œWait, Atsi, I’m sure he’ll sit still for a while and maybe even go to sleep while we work. By the way, the Indian agent’s wife is going to see to it that there’s finally some cloth for dresses brought out here.”
    The girl grinned. “I’ll keep him quiet, you’ll see.”
    The toddler looked up at Willow. “Mama?” he asked in his own language.
    Willow leaned over and picked him up, hugged him a little, looked at Bear. “Where is she?”
    Bear frowned. “Probably in town.” He seemed reticent with all the children gathering around.
    Willow made a shooing motion. “Everyone go to the tree, I’ll be right along,” she urged.
    The chubby girl took the toddler by the hand and led him with all the others running, shouting with excitement.
    Willow waited, but Bear only looked at her. She began to walk toward the tree and to her surprise, he walked beside her, adjusting his long stride to keep pace with her small steps. “Don’t ask about Rainbow again,” he said softly. “Often she is off drunk on the soldiers’ whiskey, or ...”
    â€œOr what?” Willow demanded.
    â€œThe Wolf Cub’s mother is very palojami ,” Bear said as if that explained everything.
    â€œPretty? What’s that got to do with anything?” Willow demanded. “She really ought to look after her child; it seems he’s being raised by everyone in camp but his mother.”
    â€œThe Nez Perce take care of their own,” he said.
    What was it about this big man that always rattled her? “They didn’t take care of me,” Willow snapped. “If it hadn’t been for the reverend and his good wife taking me in as an neglected and abandoned child—”
    â€œIs that what they told you?”
    She waited, but he said nothing more. She had forgotten how taciturn warriors could be; men of few words. “I can’t be looking after small toddlers too young to be in school,” Willow said again.
    â€œIf you want Atsi in class, you will often get him, too, because the old grandmother has work to do.”
    â€œI should complain to someone about his mother.”
    â€œLike who?”
    â€œWell, I don’t know,” Willow said, exasperated. “All I seem to know is that his mother drinks and she’s pretty.”
    â€œSometimes Rainbow manages to bring home a little of the money and trinkets the soldiers trade her. Once our women would not have stooped to such shame.”
    It dawned on Willow suddenly what the pretty Indian girl was doing to earn the whiskey and trade goods. “Oh, my goodness.” She put her hand to her mouth. “Why doesn’t someone stop—?”
    â€œAnd what do you suggest, mission girl?”. His voice was scornful. “The white piupsiaunat , the soldiers bring the whiskey to her.”
    â€œThis is an outrage! I-I’ll speak to the town council.”
    â€œSome