BEYOND THE RIVER BEND| Little Puma

Only a few hours remained before the Ingalls were due to arrive. Winifred placed a steaming carrot cake on the table and adjusted the flowers in the vase. She gave everything one more critical look. She made sure each plate had the same number of utensils, and that no fly had accidentally landed in the jam. Winifred smiled to herself and collapsed into a chair.

Lucky immediately jumped onto her lap and nuzzled her cheek.

"Do you think they will like it?" Winifred asked the puppy.

Lucky barked and wagged his tail harder.

"You have no doubts?" Winifred pulled the puppy closer and scratched him behind the ear. "You are my good boy."

She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She had never invited anyone over without Jerome's knowledge before. There was something... very unusual about it. For the first time, Winifred felt like the mistress of the situation. For the first time, she felt that she was not just "Mrs. Kingsley," but the mistress of this house, of her life, and of her desires. A pleasant warmth spread through her chest at the realisation. She smiled at Lucky and hugged him tighter.

"I am so happy, little one. For the first time this year, truly happy... It is not right to say it, but secretly I hope that some circumstances will keep Jerome in Oswego. It would be splendid if he returned in a month or two."

Lucky barked in agreement.

So, with him in her arms, Winifred sat in the dining room for another several of hours. The rays of the midday sun finally seeped through the window, announcing that noon had arrived.

Winifred quickly stood up, smoothed her hair, and straightened the folds of her dress. She looked out the window. Lucky jumped up and raced to the door.

"No one is here yet, little one. The Ingalls must still be on their way. Let us wait."

Winifred adjusted the utensils on the table once more. Then she cut the cake and placed the already cooled slices onto the saucers.

"Is it time to put the kettle on, what do you think, Lucky?"

The puppy barked, and Winifred took that as approval. When the coffee was ready, she hurried to the hall to receive her guests at any moment. She took a deep breath in and out, and began to wait.

Minutes passed, turning into hours. The coffee grew cold. But the Ingalls never appeared at the door. Winifred kept running to the window, looking for their wagon. Each time she returned disappointed. Lucky circled at her feet, whining pitifully.

"Maybe they just did not want to come? Or they forgot..." Winifred asked, more to herself than to Lucky.

She cast a sad glance at the table, where the cake and flowers still stood.

"Never mind, Lucky, these things happen... Perhaps next time?"

The puppy gave a weak bark and lay down by the door, resting his head on his paws.

"Oh, little one..."

Winifred gently stroked the puppy's back and returned to the kitchen. She stopped at the table, wondering whether to put the cake away. By some instinct she did not recognise, Winifred understood that waiting for the Ingalls was a waste of time. Yet a flicker of hope for their visit still remained in her heart.

She sighed, left the cake alone, and wandered into the living room. She stretched out on the soft sofa and allowed herself a moment of respite from her oppressive thoughts.

***

Soon, she heard the snort of a horse and the creak of wheels from outside. Winifred jumped off the sofa and rushed to the door. Once on the porch, she nearly knocked someone over. Only then did she realise that that someone was none other than Jemma James. Winifred was taken aback, not expecting to see her. But when she noticed the anxious confusion on Jemma's face, she asked warily:

"Mrs. James, what brings you here?"

"I came to tell you that the Ingall's daughters have disappeared... Since this morning... The whole town is in an uproar..."

Something inside Winifred broke at that moment.

"What do you mean, disappeared?" she asked in disbelief and swallowed. Her hands went cold. "You must be joking?"

From Jemma's expression, however, Winifred understood that she was not joking.

In that instant, Winifred forgot about the cake, the coffee, and the flowers. She grabbed Jemma's arm and exclaimed fervently: "I am going to search for them! Thank you, thank you, Mrs. James, for letting me know..."

A semblance of a smile appeared on Jemma's gaunt face. Then she carefully freed her hand from Winifred's grip and hurried to her carriage.

"Mrs. James!" Winifred called after her.

Jemma turned around.

"You see, the thing is, Jerome has not returned from Oswego yet, and I have no carriage... Could you possibly lend me yours for a while? Or we could go search for the girls together..."

Jemma pursed her lips, and then said in an almost apologetic tone: "I would gladly do that, Mrs. Kingsley, but I am afraid I need my carriage... Good luck with your search."

With that, Jemma practically flew onto the seat and drove off down the road toward the Ingalls house.

Winifred pressed her back against the wall. A nasty lump sat in her throat. She swallowed it with difficulty and forced herself to muster her courage.

"We need to find the girls. We have to do it, Lucky, do you hear?"

The puppy yelped and dashed toward the trail. Winifred hurried after him.

***

When the Mitchells house came into view ahead, Little Puma slowed his pace. His stallion snorted and shook its head. Little Puma dismounted, tucked his belongings under his arm, and strode toward the house. As he turned toward the porch, he saw William saddling a horse. Beside him, on the steps, sat White Sun, looking pale and dejected. Little Puma rushed to them, feeling a growing unease in his chest.

"What happened? Where are you going, William?" he asked at once, already knowing he would not like the answer.

"Good Eagle is missing..." White Sun said in a hoarse voice and raised her reddened eyes to Little Puma.

Little Puma looked at William in confusion.

"I let her go for a walk by the river. Good Eagle wanted to collect pebbles..." William said very quietly. Then, without another word, he sprang into the saddle. He gave White Sun and Little Puma a dark look and spurred his horse into a gallop.

Little Puma slowly sat down on the steps beside White Sun. He gently took her hands in his and, looking straight into her eyes, said seriously: "William and I will find her. I promise."

White Sun sobbed and pulled Little Puma into an embrace. He held her tightly and stroked her head. Then, kissing White Sun on the forehead, just as she had once kissed him, Little Puma reluctantly released her and rushed after William.

***

Winifred felt as if she was walking in circles. She went around the trees and came back to the old lightning‑struck stump. With a long sigh, she sat down on it and kicked the rotten roots. Splinters flew in all directions with a crack, startling Lucky. The puppy barked back, drawing a faint smile from Winifred. She petted Lucky and stood up.

"We need to get out of here if we do not want to end up lost ourselves. We should mark the trees, and then we will not get lost... I hope."

Winifred rummaged through her pockets and pulled out the handkerchief Little Puma had given her. She tied it to a branch. She found thread in the other pocket, and she wrapped it around each familiar tree as she moved on.

Soon the thread ran out, and fear gripped Winifred. Realising she had nothing left, she took off her bonnet, tore off the ribbons, and tied a few more branches.

While Winifred was busy, she did not notice that Lucky had run ahead.

"Lucky, stay on the path! It is dangerous!" she called out.

The puppy barked nearby, wagged his tail, and disappeared behind the trees.

That is all I need, to lose you as well!

Winifred squeezed with difficulty between the gnarled branches. The torn hems of her dress fell in shreds onto the damp ground. Her bonnet slipped off her head, and her hair came loose from its pins. Cursing under her breath, she soon caught up with Lucky. Only then did she understand where he had led her.

A wide, turbulent river appeared through a thinning row of slender trees. Its waters crashed against the rocky banks and lapped at the rounded pebbles.

"It looks like a tributary of the Verdigris River..." Winifred said thoughtfully. "Are you suggesting we swim across it?"

Lucky wagged his tail and dashed in the opposite direction from the river. He paused for a moment, sniffed the air, and barked.

Winifred raised her eyes to the sky and asked wearily: "And what are you trying to tell me, Lucky? I know, we are lost too..."

Lucky, however, did not listen. He darted back into the forest, and soon Winifred heard his loud "woof." The puppy was practically barking with joy, so Winifred hurried after him.

When she came out onto the trail, she saw Lucky bouncing impatiently, and a rider approaching them. The puppy ran toward him. At that moment, Winifred realised with relief that the rider was Little Puma. He drew level with Lucky and Winifred and gave them a questioning look.

"I am so glad to see you, you have no idea!" she blurted out instead of an answer.

"And why am I not surprised to run into you? How did you get here?"

The smile faded from Winifred's face.

"The Ingalls girls are missing... I was helping to find for them, and I accidentally strayed from the familiar trail..."

Little Puma pursed his lips.

"Good Eagle is missing too."

Winifred raised a stunned look at him.

"Then... Good Eagle must have been with the girls at that time..."

Little Puma nodded reluctantly.

"I have searched the entire forest from end to end. There is no point searching for them here," he explained after a brief silence. "We need to return to the settlements."

"But I do not have a horse, and I do not know the area..." Winifred began timidly.

Little Puma examined Winifred from head to toe and bit his lip. He clearly did not like what he was about to say.

"I will take you," he said after a moment. "I hope you are a good rider?"

Was she a good rider? Good Lord, she could not even ride a horse at all!

"I am not," Winifred admitted honestly.

Little Puma frowned. Then he jumped off the stallion abruptly and turned to Winifred.

"I will help you up."

Winifred froze. The thought that a man who was not her husband, even out of necessity, would touch her with his bare hands filled her with overwhelming shame. She understood rationally that she risked being stranded in that forest until old age if she did not accept Little Puma's help. But the propriety branded into her being would not let her move. Little Puma pursed his lips.

"We do not have time to stand around here," he reminded her, with barely concealed irritation.

Winifred nodded frantically and stood beside him.

"Hold onto the saddle and the mane."

Winifred grabbed the saddle horn with trembling fingers. Her head spun with agitation, and the scenery blurred before her eyes. Little Puma wrapped his arms around her waist, gently but firmly, and with a heave lifted her onto the stallion. Winifred swayed slightly but kept her balance. Little Puma sprang up in front of her, turned to her, and said: "You had better cover yourself with the blanket behind you. If any white person sees us, they might take you for an Osage."

Winifred felt for the thin blanket and wrapped it over her head. Soft, it smelled of bitter wormwood and sweet wildflowers. She breathed it in deeply, and the fear of heights began to fade.

"Hold onto me, unless you want to fall off," Little Puma said and urged his horse into a brisk trot.

Winifred jolted from the unfamiliar motion. She quickly wrapped her arms around Little Puma's waist and pressed her body against his.

The unwelcome closeness made her flush with heat. Shame tormented her, but more than that, fear. Little Puma was an Osage, and she was a married white woman. At any moment, they could be spotted. The blanket might hide her face, but it could not conceal the whiteness of her skin. Winifred's cheeks burned. She breathed heavily and hoarsely, trying to calm herself.

She knew that she should not be thinking about propriety right now, but she could not shake off her embarrassment and anxiety.

Soon the forest thinned, and Little Puma's stallion broke into a gallop.

Did Little Puma understand how much he risked by carrying a white woman with him? Winifred somehow thought that he understood perfectly well.

And still he decided to do it...

***

I cannot believe Good Eagle is missing... She knows this forest like the back of her hand... I do not like this at all. And those settle'rs daughters are missing too. This is some strange business...

Lost in thought, Little Puma did not hear Winifred at first. He turned his head to her only after she had repeated twice: "Could we go a little slower? I am afraid I am going to be sick..."

White as a sheet, Winifred looked at him pleadingly. It seemed that any moment she would be sick all over both of them. Little Puma slowed the stallion to a walk and said in all seriousness: "Try not to get it on me, okay?"

A chuckle came from behind him.

"I will try, but I cannot promise anything..."

Little Puma smirked.

"You will have to promise. I have no desire to wash your breakfast off the saddle and the horse..."

He heard Winifred's soft, melodious laughter. Then Little Puma, against his will, smiled at the corner of his mouth, but quickly schooled his face back to seriousness.

Meanwhile, they had left the forest and were now riding along Walnut Creek, where, as Little Puma knew, Good Eagle loved to collect pretty pebbles.

"Good Eagle!" he called out and listened.

Silence.

"Good Eagle!" Little Puma called again.

Again, no answer. Then Little Puma stopped the stallion a few feet from the bank and lightly jumped out of the saddle.

"We will go on foot from here. I suggest we split up."

He looked expectantly at Winifred, but met only her doubtful eyes.

"I do not know how to get down from a horse..." Winifred confessed.

Little Puma swallowed.

"Fine. Okay..."

He walked around the front of the stallion and stood facing Winifred. He reached out his hands to her.

"Swing your right leg over the saddle."

Winifred, pale as ever, slowly swung her leg over and froze. The stallion shifted. With a cry, Winifred tumbled straight into Little Puma's outstretched arms. She managed to grab his shoulders before he could catch her. Realising how they must look, she quickly pulled away, nodded to him, and hurried off.

"I... I will search for the girls on that side." She pointed toward the road leading to the settler's houses.

Little Puma did not argue. Winifred ran ahead without looking back at him. But Little Puma's hands still remembered the warmth of her touch. He shook his head and walked in the opposite direction.

***

"Good Eagle! Mary! Laura!"

Winifred crossed the road that separated the cornfields from the settler's houses and stopped. Before her, between two rows of tall corn stalks, stretched a wide path. She had no idea where it led, but she suddenly remembered the tale of Alice and the rabbit hole.

Hoping she would not accidentally fall into one herself, Winifred walked slowly along the path.

"Good Eagle! Laura! Mary!"

Evening was falling. Winifred shivered and pulled Little Puma's blanket tighter around herself. The path soon ended, and a wide field opened before her. She swallowed and walked on, trusting her instinct.

***

A narrow trail wound and disappeared into the tall grass. Little Puma crept along it like a predator stalking prey. The ground still bore the prints of small moccasins, and he was almost certain they belonged to Good Eagle. He walked a little further and suddenly stopped. His gaze fell on other tracks, broad, as if made by boots. At first they mingled with Good Eagle's small prints, then vanished into the grass.

Little Puma knelt and touched the tracks with his fingers. They were fresh. He swallowed convulsively and raised his eyes to the winding path that led into the forest. His hand went to the pocket of his waistcoat, where he always kept a hunting knife. Gripping it tightly, he turned toward the woods.

***

"Mary! Laura! Good Eagle!"

Winifred strained to hear every rustle, every whisper of grass underfoot, but only the joyful trill of birds reached her. The sky was painted crimson and blue, and dark clouds drifted along the horizon. Darkness was not far off. Winifred's anxiety only grew. Her throat was raw, but she kept calling for the girls.

"Good Eagle, where are you? Mary, Laura? Girls!"

Winifred lifted her head. The field had disappeared, and trees surrounded her on all sides. She called out louder than before, "Mary, Laura, Eaglet!", and then she heard a girl's voice.

"I am here!" the girl cried out, and her voice was suddenly cut off.

Winifred ran toward the sound. Footsteps came from behind her. She turned and saw Little Puma, who had appeared most opportunely. He put his finger to his lips and motioned for her to follow. Exhaling in relief, Winifred moved after him.

"Shut your trap, you little brat..."

"Let us just leave her here."

"I will leave you."

The voices grew louder, and then Winifred saw their owners. Two men in wide‑brimmed hats and worn‑out clothes sat on a fallen log. Between them was Good Eagle, frightened and pale, in a torn dress. She whimpered softly, wiping tears from her cheeks.

"Bastards..." Little Puma hissed through his teeth.

Winifred noticed him pull a small knife from his pocket, and her heart pounded with alarm. Little Puma stepped out from cover, and Winifred followed.

"Get your hands off Good Eagle," Little Puma said loudly. The blade of his knife glinted in his hand.

Startled, the men hesitated. Seizing their confusion, Good Eagle ran to Little Puma and Winifred.

"Stand behind me."

Winifred swept Good Eagle into her arms and hurried behind Little Puma. Good Eagle trembled in her embrace, and Winifred gently stroked her tangled hair.

One of the men rose slowly, shoved his companion in the shoulder, and sneered: "Well, look at that, Johnny. The pup's milk is still wet on his lips, and he is threatening us."

The men burst out laughing. Then the one called Johnny stepped right up to Little Puma and poked him in the chest.

"Run along, little boy, while we are still being nice. We are honest men, and we do not want any trouble with Indians. So hand over the girl and be on your way, got it?"

Winifred did not know what Little Puma was thinking at that moment. But from his trembling hands, she understood he was ready to tear Good Eagle's kidnappers apart.

"Hands. Off. Good Eagle," Little Puma repeated, almost choking with rage.

At that moment, Johnny's patience snapped. He raised his huge fist and nearly struck Little Puma's shoulder. Little Puma dodged and punched Johnny in the chin. Johnny cursed loudly and staggered. His friend rushed at Little Puma and tried to knock the knife from his hand.

Little Puma ducked and then slammed his forehead into the man's nose. The man roared. Johnny lunged toward his friend, and at that moment Little Puma raised the knife over his head and slashed it across Johnny's chest. Blood spurted from the wound. Johnny swung his massive arm and caught Little Puma just above the elbow. He jerked Little Puma toward him, nearly dislocating his arm. The knife fell from his fingers. Little Puma hissed through his teeth and, twisting, drove his knee into Johnny's leg. Johnny fell to the ground. Little Puma quickly retrieved his knife and struck before the second man could grab him by the collar. Blood gushed from the man's leg. He staggered back and hobbled toward Johnny.

Good Eagle trembled like an aspen leaf in Winifred's arms. Winifred licked her dry lips and began whispering soothing words to her, though she herself was shaking with fear.

"Do not look, little one, do not look... Everything will be all right..."

Meanwhile, Little Puma rose, wiped the stranger's blood from his face, bared his teeth, and spoke low: "Get off my land before I finish you off, bastards. I said get out."

Johnny clutched his bleeding chest, his companion groaned, holding his wounded leg. Realising they were outmatched, they retreated.

Little Puma stood still for a while, then rushed to Good Eagle. He dropped to his knees before her and pulled her into an embrace. Good Eagle burst into tears and pressed close to Little Puma.

"What were you thinking?" he asked, as soon as Good Eagle pulled away from him.

"I ran to search for Laura and Mary... I did not think..." Good Eagle mumbled tearfully and sniffled.

Little Puma took her hands and said seriously: "Not a word to your mother about searching for the girls, or about the kidnapping. Otherwise, she will both have our heads, understood?"

Good Eagle nodded.

Watching this family scene unfold, Winifred could not help smiling. She even felt a little out of place, until Good Eagle suddenly came to her and threw her arms around her. Winifred, without hesitation, hugged her back. Looking up, she saw Little Puma staring at them. She smiled shyly and released Good Eagle.

Little Puma whistled, and his stallion ran out from behind the trees. He helped Good Eagle into the saddle, then turned to Winifred and motioned for her to mount as well.

"Oh no, I have had enough... I am not riding anymore..."

Little Puma shrugged, took the stallion by the bridle, and led him at a calm walk toward the Mitchells house.

"You are not riding?" Winifred asked.

"I want to walk."

Winifred nodded understandingly. She and Little Puma walked so close together that she could catch the bitter scent of sweat and prairie grass that clung to him. She sighed and asked the question that had been on her mind all along: "Who would want to kidnap an Osage child?"

Little Puma gave her a look and replied: "Many people think of it. White criminals believe our children are free labour. They steal them and sell them as servants to rich households."

Winifred averted her guilty gaze from Little Puma.

"I did not know... I am sorry I asked..."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Only occasionally did Winifred steal glances at him, and Little Puma merely pursed his lips.

Soon the silhouettes of William and Mrs. Mitchell appeared ahead.

"Mama! Papa!" Good Eagle cried out.

Little Puma helped the girl down from the saddle. The moment she was on the ground, she was wrapped in her parent's arms. William and Mrs. Mitchell wept, kissing their daughter, stroking her head, whispering to each other in their own language.

Then Mrs. Mitchell demanded an explanation from Good Eagle about where she had been.

"Laura and Mary had nothing to do with it, if that is what you are thinking! I was looking for pebbles on the bank, and I wandered too far... But Little Puma and Winifred found me."

Mrs. Mitchell raised her tear‑stained eyes to Winifred, and in them she saw surprise mingled with gratitude. Mrs. Mitchell gave a short nod, and Winifred nodded back.

"Mr. Mitchell," Winifred began, "do you know if the Ingalls girls have been found?"

William turned to Winifred.

"Mr. Edwards found them a several of hours ago, Mrs. Kingsley," William stepped closer and extended his hand. "And I thank you and Puma from the bottom of my heart for bringing my daughter back."

Winifred gently squeezed William's rough palm.

"What a relief, Mr. Mitchell..."

Winifred felt a heavy weight lift from her shoulders, and she smiled broadly.

She stood for a while, watching the Mitchells family and Puma. Calling Lucky, she set off home. She did not mind at all that the Ingall's visit had not happened, and she had no desire to disturb them with her own visit. So, when she returned home, she sat down at the table and shared the carrot cake with Lucky.

***

Late that night, as she climbed into bed, she suddenly discovered that not only her clothes, but also her hair, were steeped in the bitter‑sweet scent of prairie grass. The same scent that clung to Little Puma and Good Eagle, and which she now wore as a reminder of the day.

"That was quite an adventure, but I regret nothing..." Winifred said and yawned.

Lucky curled up at her feet.

"Woof!"

He regretted nothing either.