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    Double M: Vision Woman
    Double M: Vision Woman
    Double M: Vision Woman
    Ebook229 pages3 hours

    Double M: Vision Woman

    By Sherry Derr-Wille

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    About this ebook

    Morning Star has lost the man who was to be her husband. Destined to live a loveless life she devotes herself to the visions given her by the Great Spirit and her skill as a healer. When Lone Eagle comes into her life, everything changes. Even though his injuries are severe she nurses him back to health and falls deeply in love. Lone Eagle has also suffered loss, but when he meets Morning Star, he knows his life will soon be complete. Even though they never have children of their own, they are friends to all, including the whites who are coming into their territory. That friendship becomes both a blessing and a curse when he witnesses something he shouldn't have seen. Hunting Hawk is an adult when he learns of his parents' past. It becomes his prayer that he can accept what life has given him.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWhiskey Creek Press
    Release dateJun 1, 2014
    ISBN9781611608533
    Double M: Vision Woman

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      Book preview

      Double M - Sherry Derr-Wille

      DOUBLE M: VISION WOMAN

      by

      SHERRY DERR-WILLE

      WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

      www.whiskeycreekpress.com

      Published by

      WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

      Whiskey Creek Press

      PO Box 51052

      Casper, WY 82605-1052

      www.whiskeycreekpress.com

      Copyright Ó 2014 by Sherry Derr-Wille

      Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

      Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

      No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

      ISBN: 978-1-61160-853-3

      Cover Artist:

      Editor: Dave Field

      Printed in the United States of America

      Dedication

      To the characters in this book who wouldn’t rest until their story of love and survival in the face of the changes to their territory and the invasion of the white men intent on the destruction of those with red skin was made known.

      Part I

      Morning Star’s Story

      Chapter 1

      The year was 1867 and the place, well that doesn’t matter much. The country was recovering from the War Between the States and fighting yet another on the western edge of the same great country, only this time it wasn’t brother against brother, it was the whites against those of us who had lived on the land from the beginning of time.

      My people were yet another of the faceless masses who didn’t want to give our land to the invading whites, but we did know we were outnumbered. I was but an old woman, but my powers were many and sought after by not only our braves but also the white trappers who were more friends than enemies.

      Of course, I’m ahead of my story. Thirty winters ahead, if the truth be known. I was a young girl of fifteen winters and promised to be the bride of one of our great hunters. This is where my life began and ended and began again.

      * * * *

      I watched as the hunters prepared to go in pursuit of the great buffalo that gave us everything we needed for our lives. I waited in front of my parents’ lodge in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Buffalo Hunter, the man who, when they returned from the hunt, would become my husband.

      While the other men went to their wives and parents to bid them farewell and receive their blessing for the hunt, Buffalo Hunter went first to the lodge of the medicine man, then to see his parents and finally to be with me.

      I have pledged to bring two buffalo from the hunt, he said once he came to my side. The first will be for you and the new lodge we will be building upon my return. Before the snow falls, Prairie Flower, we will become man and wife and begin our lives together. It will take us that long to tan the hide of the buffalo so we can build our lodge.

      He touched his fingers to his lips and then to mine. At that moment, my body filled with warmth. For the first time I was sending my man off on the hunt and when he returned I would become his wife, forever and always.

      When the dust from the hunters’ horses finally settled, I went to my parents’ lodge to help my mother prepare the evening meal. My father joined us and held out his bowl to receive his helping of the stew my mother simmered over the fire for many hours.

      I do not have a good feeling about this hunt, my father said, rubbing his leg.

      I remembered when I was small and my father rode out with the hunters. At the time my grandfather spoke the same words. Within days, the hunters returned, only my father did not ride with them. Instead he rested on a travois because the mighty buffalo gored him with his horn. Even though my uncle killed the bull and gave us the meat, my father was never the same again. His leg was permanently scarred from the horn of the mighty bull.

      As he recovered from the wound, it was common knowledge he would never again go out on the hunt. Although he could still hunt small game his name had been changed from Buffalo Heart to Hunter Who Limps.

      At the time I thought he would be humiliated for life, but with his disability, came great visions. Often, he conferred with the medicine man and together they made great predictions for our people.

      His latest proclamation sent my mind into turmoil. What do you mean you do not have a good feeling about this hunt, Father? I finally dared to ask.

      He stared at me for a long time. I fear for our hunters. You are now a woman, Prairie Flower. When you become a married woman, you will take on a new name fitting of your position in life. I pray you will not become plagued with the visions I have had ever since I went on the last hunt.

      You are frightening the child, my husband, my mother protested.

      She is no longer a child. There is nothing we can do to spare her the life that spreads before her.

      I looked at my parents in disbelief. Surely this uneasiness my father had about the hunt had nothing to do with me or the future I planned with Buffalo Hunter.

      No further words were spoken between my parents. Instead, the remainder of our evening meal passed in silence. When we were finished, they went for a walk around the village, leaving me to clean up the remains of our meal.

      Upon their return, the conversation was not mentioned again and I prepared to go to my furs to spend the night in dreams of the day when Buffalo Hunter and I would be married.

      Although I slept, my dreams were not pleasant ones. In them the hunters rode toward the huge herd, each with expectations of the kills they would make. Leading the charge was Buffalo Hunter and the beautiful stallion he traded with the people of the Nez Perce Nation to obtain. When he returned to our village with the stallion, everyone was in awe.

      I was unable to focus on the happy time when I knew we were going to be together for all of our lives, for the vision continued. As the hunters charged into the midst of the herd, the lead bull turned on them and knocked Buffalo Hunter from his horse, trampling his body with its hooves.

      I forced my mind to remove me from the clutches of the terrifying vision. What woke me were the screams of a demented woman. To my horror, they belonged to me. Sweat drenched my body and strong arms held me close enough to a man’s chest, I could hear the beating cadence of his heart.

      I need not ask what it was that disturbed your slumber, my father whispered in my ear. I’ve prayed to the Great Spirit for my vision to be a false one, but tonight you have proven to be my daughter in more ways than one. I prayed you would be spared the visions, but the medicine man kept telling me you would become one with those of us who can see into the future and try to warn the people of things to come.

      My father’s words were anything but comforting. I didn’t want to see into the future in the same way he did. His visions came from his injury and even though he could no longer hunt for the big game, he was highly regarded among our people. What did my visions mean? Why had they come on the eve of the dawning of my life as a wife and mother?

      For the remainder of the night, sleep was a stranger. Rather than stay within the confines of our lodge, I went outside and sat beside the swift running river upon whose banks our village had been built.

      I sat there throughout the night as the stars crossed the heavens and the first signs of the morning sun crested the eastern horizon. As hard as I tried, the vision of the previous night refused to leave my mind.

      Before I returned home, I went to the women’s bathing place to wash away the grime of the previous day and night from my body. It was a ritual I’d engaged in every day of my life.

      As the sky lightened, many of my friends joined me in the small lagoon where we enjoyed the mornings filled with gossip and shared secrets between the women I’d known since my birth.

      Are you excited about your coming marriage? Smiling Duck asked me as she joined me in the lagoon.

      I merely nodded, afraid if I said anything I might inadvertently blurt out the contents of my night vision. I certainly did not want to put voice to the concerns which plagued me throughout the long night.

      I hope the hunters return with plenty of meat for the coming winter. I have been watching the squirrels and their tails are so fat with fur it’s as if they are getting ready for the long cold season that will soon be upon us.

      Other friends joined in the conversation, but I could not stand to talk to them this morning. Instead I got out of the water and let the warm breeze kiss my skin and dry off the droplets of water clinging to me.

      Throughout the day every conversation to reach my ears centered on the success of the hunt and the prospect of the amount of work necessary to preserve the meat for the long winter awaiting us. It was almost time for the buffalo to move south and since the grazing had been good, they had much stored fat, promising good meat for the people.

      Such conversations went on throughout the day and far into the night. When everyone else went to their lodges, I tried to sleep, but the vision threatened to return every time I closed my eyes. Lying still until morning, I pretended to sleep so as not to bring undue worry upon my parents.

      The next day, I helped the women with their preparations as a way to keep the unsettling thoughts from my mind.

      I was spared another sleepless night when the hunters returned home in the late afternoon. Instead of the joyful shouts we usually heard when the men returned from a successful hunt, the mood of the hunters was somber. With them were many pack animals filled with much meat. Among the men and horses returning, I searched for the Appaloosa stallion I longed to see. When I did find him, Buffalo Hunter was not seated in triumph. Instead, his body was wrapped in a blanket and thrown across the horse’s back. The man I was to marry was dead and my visions were coming true.

      When the hunters assembled in the village and took Buffalo Hunter’s body from the back of his horse, the meat and hides to sustain us through the winter were forgotten.

      As though in a trance, I walked toward the hunters and reached my hand out to remove the blanket from Buffalo Hunter’s face. I longed to look upon his handsome features one last time.

      Do not do this, I heard my father say, just as my hand pulled the blanket from Buffalo Hunter. Unfortunately, his warning came too late. The damage the big bull did was so severe, there was no way to identify the man beneath the blanket, other than by the remnants of the breastplate he always wore.

      My tears of mourning turned to wails of despair. My visions were true. The man I loved beyond all others died in just the way I saw predicted for the past two nights. His face was pulverized beyond recognition by the sharp hooves of the animal most revered by our people. The life-giving buffalo, the guiding spirit of the man I loved, had taken his life in exchange for the many animals sacrificed to feed and clothe our people.

      My father’s strong arms encircled me. Come away with me, he said just loud enough for me to hear. This is not a place for a proper maiden.

      What better place for me? I sobbed. I foresaw his death. I felt each sharp blow of the hooves of the bull who took his life in exchange for those of his herd our people were taking for food.

      Even through the wailing of the mourners, my statement brought complete silence to those of our village.

      You foresaw this? the father of Buffalo Hunter said. Did you know what would happen when our men left on this hunt?

      No! I saw it in my dreams the night they left. I have never been able to foresee the future before. I prayed for two days to the Great Spirit to tell me what I saw was wrong. As you can see today, I was not mistaken.

      Buffalo Hunter’s mother embraced me and called me Daughter, even though we had not been joined in marriage before he left for the hunt. I do not blame you for not telling us of your vision. It would have been worse for us to know what was about to happen than to have the men return with his body today. You spared us days of uncertainty. I realize you were not to receive your woman’s name until after your marriage, but on this day, I, as the mother of your beloved, deem you will be called Vision Woman.

      Even in my grief, I felt greatly honored. Buffalo Hunter’s mother was one of the most respected women in the village. She, like my mother, was one of our healers, as I would be as I matured.

      Chapter 2

      By spring of the next year, my hair had grown out. In mourning, I’d cut it at the same time I made the cuts on my arm and rubbed them with ashes. Those too were beginning to heal. I’d joined my mother in the healers’ lodge, helping all those in need in our village. With the man I was to marry dead, I would forever be a servant of the people.

      To my dismay, the vision that brought me the news of Buffalo Hunter’s death was not the only one I experienced. I saw the hard winter even before the deepest of the snows reached the mountain stronghold of our people. I also saw the herd of elk that wandered close enough to our village for the hunters to bring two of their number into our camp to supplement our dwindling supplies of meat.

      The sun shone brightly, melting the last traces of snow from around the lodges of the village when the barking of dogs alerted me to the return of our hunters. I was just about to step from the healers’ lodge when a strong vision assaulted my mind. Although our hunters were successful, I saw another hunter, not of our village, being set upon by one of the mighty bears who’d just awakened from the long winter sleep and was looking for nourishment. I shook my head to rid myself of the vision, but it persisted. To me it was like seeing Buffalo Hunter being trampled by the buffalo. My chest ached as the claws of the bear raked across the man’s skin, tearing open deep rents.

      Gasping for breath, even after the vision faded, I stepped from the lodge to breathe the sweet springtime air into my lungs and clear my mind. As I did, I looked to the east to see our men once again bringing in the bounty of the hunt. Along with them was a horse I did not recognize, across its back the man I saw in my vision.

      I rushed to their side. Is this the man who was attacked by the bear?

      Sky Hawk looked at me, his eyes filled with questions. How did you know the bear attacked him? We came upon him just as the he-bear stood upon its hind legs and looked at him as though he was meat for his next meal. Our hunters killed the bear but not in time to save this stranger from being harmed. Can you help him?

      I nodded and indicated the men should bring the stranger to the healers’ lodge. Once there, my mother, along with the mother of Buffalo Hunter, heated water and sprinkled it with healing herbs.

      After they made the man comfortable, I examined his wounds. They were deep and I would need the sinew of the deer to sew them shut, but first the blood and dirt needed to be washed from his body so no infection could take hold. One long open wound went from the center of his chest all the way down to his manhood. I prayed for this man’s survival as I assessed the damage done by the bear.

      My mother handed me a bowl of heated herb water along with a soft doeskin cloth. This man’s life is in your hands, Daughter.

      I cast her a questioning glance. Why do you say this, Mother? Never before has such a task been left to me alone.

      Because I saw your face just before you went out to greet our hunters. Before you ever left this lodge, you had a vision of this man. It is meant that you should be the one to take over his treatment.

      How did you know of my vision?

      My mother smiled. I have lived with your father for many winters and given him two children. When he has a vision, I know immediately by the look on his face. The things you just saw gave you the same look. You have a gift, and it was wise for you to take the name of Vision Woman. This man will depend upon you for his very life, but I predict he will become important in your life.

      With those words, she and the other healers left the lodge and the fate of the

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