Savage Tempest by Cassie Edwards Page A

after her, carrying her pretend baby.
    She sat down close to Joylynn, so close that Joylynn could smell the sweetness of the child’s skin and clothes, like rainwater.
    â€œOn days when a lot of my friends play with me, we make a much larger house, and boys play with us,” Singing In Water said. She placed a braid that had come over her shoulder behindher, so that it hung alongside the other down her back.
    â€œYou pretend to be families?” Joylynn asked, beginning to feel cramped in the small space. Her stomach was uncomfortable in her hunched position.
    â€œ
Ho
, and the boys go to their mothers to get a buffalo tongue that has been cooked, or some pemmican,” Singing In Water said, slowly rocking her pretend baby back and forth in her arms. “We girls then spread clean grass on the floor of our home and put the food on it. We feast on the food, the boys on one side of the imaginary fire pit, the girls on the other.”
    â€œIt sounds like so much fun,” Joylynn murmured. She had never had any close friends to play with when she was a child because the farms the families lived on were too far apart.
    â€œIt is fun,” Singing In Water said, then she handed the doll over to Joylynn. “Would you like to hold my baby?”
    Joylynn was taken aback by the suggestion.
    She stared at the strange-looking thing the girl called her baby, then did as she had seen the child do.
    She slowly rocked it back and forth in her arms, seeing that this pleased Singing In Water. The child smiled even more broadly than before.
    â€œSometimes our dolls are made of rushes; oftentimes they are made by our grandmothers in thesummer from mud,” Singing In Water said. She shrugged. “I like all dolls. I love to think of when I will have a real baby of my own.”
    Singing In Water lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you not have a baby of your own?” she asked matter-of-factly. “You are of the age when you should, are you not? Do not white women have babies very often?”
    That question took Joylynn aback. She could feel the heat of a blush rush to her cheeks, for how could she answer such a question? Here she was, holding a fake baby, while inside her belly lay a true one!
    â€œJoylynn, where are you?”
    The familiar, dreaded voice of High Hawk’s mother penetrated the small tepee, but this time it was welcome. Joylynn was finding the little girl’s questions uncomfortable.
    â€œOh, no,” Singing In Water said, sighing. “High Hawk’s
ina
is wanting you. She will probably put you to work again today. Do you mind working alongside the other women?”
    â€œJoylynn!”
    Blanket Woman’s voice was more insistent, more shrill.
    â€œI must go,” Joylynn said, placing the doll in Singing In Water’s arms. She leaned over and brushed a kiss across the child’s brow. “Thank you. I’ve had fun.”
    â€œMe, too,” Singing In Water said, crawling outside with Joylynn.
    â€œThere you are,” Blanket Woman huffed. In her arms was a lovely white doeskin dress. Between her fingers she held a pair of beautiful moccasins. “Come back to my son’s lodge. I have clothes for you.”
    Joylynn gazed at the clothes and then into Blanket Woman’s eyes. “I have enough of my own dresses to wear, thank you,” she said tightly.
    â€œYou will wear them no more,” Blanket Woman said, going to Joylynn and thrusting the dress into her arms. “Come. I will bring the moccasins in for you. You will wear them, too, instead of your sort of shoes, which are ugly.”
    Joylynn gave Blanket Woman an angry stare, then, feeling the eyes of other women on her, she sighed and hurried to High Hawk’s tepee with Blanket Woman on her heels.
    Once inside, Joylynn turned and faced Blanket Woman. She shoved the dress back into the older woman’s arms. “I refuse to wear this,” she said tightly. “Why should