Just before the breaking dawn and with hardly a wink of sleep, we saddled up our horses and rode east into the open range. The smell of our smoldering fire lingered, as we looked over our shoulders to see if the Indians trailed us.

The former captive woman leaned against Redhawk's back with the dead infant son tucked between them. No one wanted to make a fuss over it until the men put some miles between us and the band of Indians who were sure to follow. I rode my mare next to her and Redhawk, knowing her child had no more life in him than a ragdoll. The men ahead, talked of drawing straws to see who would convince the mother, her son wasn't coming back to life.

The open range meant there would be no hiding, between us and the Indians. I was thankful for the summer heat and withering sawgrass. I breathed easier when Redhawk would turn his horse and glass the horizon. His scope gave us some measure of comfort.

As I continued to ride beside the young mother, I carried the conversation through her blank stare. "Do you recall the name your folks gave you?" There was gulf silence between us as we moved east against the rising sun.

Just as I had given up and my thoughts turned toward my only son on the ranch, and how blessed I was, she blurted out her name. "I know my name is Emily."

As we rode, I didn't press any further. "Emily is a fine name. I think I should name a daughter Emily, should I be blessed to one day have a girl."

Her eyes suddenly found me. "I was named White Cloud by the Lakota."

Thad rode up next to me, his face sweating in the sun. "You folks all right, Miss Taylor?"

"McCord ranch would be a welcome sight before nightfall."

"I'm going up ahead and see if I can find a place we can rest a spell." He tipped his hat and rode off until he was a speck on the horizon.


A few hours later Redhawk glassed a crop of trees where we could rest our horses and bury the child. As we drew closer, Thad seemed to be dozing off against a tree. I wanted to poke him, just to make sure he was okay. But then, I heard a steady snore.

Some of the men circled me. They pried on me with their eyes. Their silence spooked me. I knew what they wanted. They wanted my help separating the child and her mother. I rolled my eyes but agreed. "I will talk to her about the baby."

Relief washed over the men's faces.
"Be best if someone was to hold her back when I speak my mind." I said this as Redhawk approached our circle with Emily and the child.

A large cotton tree held sway over all the others. As we dismounted and Jake helped the mother and her baby, I admired how in the gentle breeze, the tree released white strands of cotton like angel hair beneath an azure sky.

Thad and another hand started digging a pit where the ground was soft. As Redhawk and others kept a watch from the west, I played my role as a caregiver and offered to hold the child so she could drink water from a canteen. Once I held the dead bundle in my arms, I stepped away and locked onto Emily's rabid eyes. "It's no use pretending, Emily. Your child's gone. He's in a better place."

A venomous rage filled her eyes. She struck toward me. Two of our men held her back. Redhawk reasoned with her where she collapsed on the ground. "You did all that could be asked of you. Your son will look down on you happy that he lives in your heart."

It was then the wind stirred through the branches and flirted with the leaves. The mother snapped from her trance, as if a demon departed. Her countenance changed, and her eyes softened with some acceptance. But her words took us off guard. "They wanted me to leave him behind. I would not leave him to die."

Redhawk opened the bundle and further examined the baby in the light of day. "I suspect this child was born too soon." As I looked in with him, I noticed now how shriveled he was, a premature birth in a harsh wilderness."

Emily saved her remaining spite for her captors. "They told me my child would not survive. The Great Spirit was not happy."

I locked on to her eyes. "You did right by him. And the Great Spirit I know, has opened up his heavenly arms."

Redhawk looked at the other men. It's no wonder she escaped. She would not have dared try otherwise."

I watched as these hard-boiled ranch hands softened with tears in their eyes.

Jake stepped forward and helped the woman from her knees. "We have to give him proper burial, Ma'am, then best be on our way where my family can keep you safe."

She nodded, but I could tell her grief was all dammed up. She had learned to build a survivor's wall, but it was cracking in her facial expressions. It was bursting at the seams.

The men wrapped the child in a Mexican blanket the color of a rainbow. It was my turn to pry the men for words. "Anybody here know what to say to pay our respects?"

All the men took their hats off and Thad stepped up. "I'd like to say a few words. Lord almighty, none of us are deserving a long life. With you, we don't know the end from the beginning, but you hold time in your hands, and we don't deserve to slap those hands that welcome this young un. Amen."

My mind was in a whirlwind, trying to think of a song, any song I could recall from Sunday School that might fit the moment and lend some closure. Then it stirred inside me and wouldn't let go.

"What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear. What a privilege to carry, everything to God in prayer. Oh, what peace we often forfeit, oh, what needless pain we bear, all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer."

After I'd finished there was soul stirring silence, and all we could hear was the Spirit of the wind in the trees.

Thad took his hatchet to a hickory shrub and fashioned a cruel cross from two limbs. As we departed, Emily looked back one last time where her son was buried and no doubt a piece of her heart.

We rode on for hours, sore in the saddle, and blistered by the sun. But before the sun melted over the horizon we caught a glimpse of the McCord ranch with a few sandhills and bluffs between us.

My heart raced to see my son. I'd heard his first words, seen his first walk, yet he had so much to learn. I knew then that I needed to teach him more than what the land gives us. I needed to teach him how to listen to the Spirit in the wind.

As I looked over at Emily, I wondered if she would be able to make a fresh start in a white world.