Free Reckless Desire by Madeline Baker

thought of his father, Black Owl, and of the other men in the tribe who had taught him the ways of a warrior. He thought of Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull and all the other great chiefs he had known: Gall, American Horse, Hump, Red Cloud. He thought of his best friend, Calf Running, who had been gunned down by a soldier; of Clyde Stewart and Barney McCall and the endless days he had spent as a sideshow attraction in a traveling tent show. And then he thought of his children, of helping Hannah bring Mary and Blackie into the world, of the Sun Dance he had shared with Hawk.
    He recalled the battles he had been in, the men he had killed, and then he thought again of Hannah, always Hannah. She was his strength, woven tightly into the fabric of his life.
    Abruptly he raised his arms toward heaven. “Hear me, Man Above,” he prayed in a loud voice. “Give me strength and wisdom that I might be worthy of my woman, that I might find a way to help my son.”
    Drawing a small pouch from the waistband of his pants, he poured a generous amount of tobacco into the palm of his hand, then sprinkled it to the four directions.
    “Hear me, Man Above,” he cried. “I have need of your help.”
    He stood there for over an hour, his arms upraised, his face turned toward the sun, his heart pouring out a prayer to Maheo.
    The sun climbed higher in the sky, and sweat trickled down Shadow’s arms and back and chest, and still he stood there, unmoving, his whole being focused on that which he desired.
    Another hour passed, two, and he dropped to his knees, unmindful of the heat or the gnawing hunger in his belly.
    The fourth hour came and went and still he did not move, only knelt there, his lips moving in prayer.
    It was late in the afternoon when he heard a great rushing of mighty wings. Hardly daring to hope, he turned his head to the left and let out a long sigh as two red-tailed hawks appeared in the sky, wheeling and diving in perfect unison until they hovered above his head.
    “Be strong,” the male hawk cried in a loud voice. “Be strong, and you will prevail over your enemies.”
    “Be brave,” the female cried in a loud voice. “Be brave, and you will have nothing to fear.”
    Another rush of wings, and they were gone.
    Utterly fatigued, Shadow slumped to the ground, his heart at peace.
    He remained there for thirty minutes, his eyes closed, and then he mounted Smoke and rode down the hill toward town, and Hawk.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    Shadow was gone when I woke up. Rising, I dressed quickly and went into the kitchen. After drinking a cup of hot chocolate, I began to make the pie I had promised Hawk.
    While it baked, I tidied up the house, my eyes wandering to the front window several times in hopes of seeing Shadow. Where had he gone? Knowing him as I did, I was certain he had gone off alone to seek guidance from Man Above.
    It was just after noon when I went into town. Hawk was pacing back and forth when I entered the cellblock, and my heart welled with sympathy for my son. I remembered the time I had visited Shadow in the stockade at Fort Apache in Arizona Territory. Conditions there had been much worse than those Hawk found himself in now, but Hawk’s eyes reflected the same quiet desperation I had once seen in Shadow’s.
    “I brought the pie,” I said, forcing a note of cheer into my voice, “and a change of clothing.”
    Hawk nodded. “Have you heard anything?”
    “The trial is set for Friday. It’s only three days,” I said. “That’s not so long.”
    Hawk swore under his breath. “Every day behind these bars is like a year,” he exclaimed angrily.
    “I know.” I slipped his clean clothes through the bars, and then the pie. “There’s a cloth and a bar of soap wrapped inside your shirt.”
    “Thank you, nahkoa . I did not mean to shout at you.”
    “It’s all right.”
    I spent an hour with Hawk. We didn’t talk much. He asked about the twins and I told him that Lydia was staying with them, and that