Shannon Farrington - Frontier Agreement

But I will live without such things if it means being asked to marry a man who does not serve God.

Claire cast a glance in Evening Sky’s direction. She was now sleeping peacefully. Claire returned to her parchments and tried to focus on the task at hand.

Outside someone was chopping wood. Claire scratched her list in time with the rhythmic thwacking of the ax. Morning moved toward noon. There was no window in her hut, no way to mark the sun’s advance across the sky, but Claire could estimate the time by the sounds. She could hear the second changing of the guard.

She kept on writing. The captains wished to learn about the Mandan’s religious beliefs, so Claire gave an account of their beliefs on creation, the great flood and the story of the Lone Man. Her heart grew heavier with each paragraph, considerably as she listed out the details of the Okipa ceremony.

She had never actually seen the ceremony take place, for women were not allowed to view it, but she had witnessed the effects of it when she first arrived in the village. Hoping to gain the Great Spirit’s favor, young warriors were starved and mutilated. The parents of those who did not survive the process bore their shame.

How different life would be for my people if they could come to understand that God’s favor was not earned through suffering but given by grace... How different my life would be.

Claire dipped her quill in the ink. Evening Sky continued to sleep but stirred just before the call to supper. Her body was slow to rise, but her coloring had improved.

“Feeling better?” Claire asked.

“Yes.” Evening Sky then said she thought she might take a little nourishment.

“I’ll make you some tea and there are corn cakes keeping warm by the fire.”

Evening Sky nodded.

Claire brought her one of the cakes and then prepared the tea. It didn’t take long to warm the snow water and steep the herbs over the fire. As Claire brought the cup to her mother, the bugle sounded.

“Thank you, Bright Star,” she said. “Now go. Take your own meal at the big fire. I’ll be alright. I need nothing more.”

Claire had smelled the camp food cooking for more than an hour. She was hungry for more than corn cakes indeed but did not wish to leave her mother unattended.

Thankfully she did not have to, for a knock sounded upon the door. Claire opened it to find Mr. Lafayette standing at the threshold. He’d come bearing bread, venison stew and chicory coffee.

“I know you said you were not hungry earlier, but I couldn’t let you miss out on a feast such as this,” he said. When he smiled, Claire suddenly found herself wondering what he would look like without the beard. She imagined him quite handsome, in a polished, gentlemanly way.

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