But, it didn't matter if she had his attention or not. She was momentarily stunned and found she could do little more than stare at him. At length, however, she was asked, "Does this mean you could take another or several wives besides me, while still being married to me?"
"Áa, I could," he said in English, though he did not look at her. "But...man must have many horses or must be...chief or heap good hunter...have more...than one wife. Man must...be able...feed his family. This...man's duty."
She murmured, "Are you a chief?'"
"Saa,not chief. Am only...medicine man. Not...rich. Not many...horses... could give for...wife."
"Maybe you are not rich in horses, but you are a heap good hunter."
He gazed up at her and grinned, but said nothing, which she had come to learn was his usual response when he agreed with her.
"So," she continued, "since you are a good hunter, then you could marry another woman, or maybe two?"
"You not worry," he said in English. "If...you need help, I can do."
"You can do what? Marry another woman?"
"Áa."
Indeed, it appeared he could. Why hadn't he mentioned this before they had married? Surely, he must know her society did not allow a man more than one wife.
Or did he? He seemed to be rather lacking in knowledge about her culture.
Her breath caught, and for several moments she couldn't move. Then, contradictorily, it felt as if she were in motion, for she was trembling.
She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but found to her dismay she couldn't utter a word. Only one fact screamed at her: she was married to this man, yet he could very well take another woman as a second wife.
Suddenly, her nudity bothered her, and she reached down to bring the blanket up to cover her upper body.
Eagle Heart, however, appear to not notice her withdrawal, although he did, at last, look up at her. Scooting forward, he drew the blanket down to her hips and reached out to trace one of her breasts with his fingers. She backed away from him, and her action at last brought his attention more fully upon her.
He frowned before asking in English, "Wrong? Something...wrong?"
She nodded. It was all she was capable of doing at the moment. Words failed her.
"Much...we must...do...today. But...this important. I listen. You...speak."
She gulped, opened her mouth to try to talk, but accomplished no more than swallowing...hard.
He backed away from her and came to sit down upon their sleeping robes, his legs crossed in the traditional Blackfoot Indian–style. He repeated, "I listen."
Meanwhile, Laylah was beyond being able to think coherently.First and second wives?How could he casually mention a first wife and perhaps many other wives, and do this as though he were speaking of a custom as common as the sharing of a meal?
Have I made a mistake in marrying this man? Although I love him with all my heart, I could never live with him if he took another wife.
He didn't say a word; nor did he look at her. Instead, he seemed to have found an abundance of patience within him, for he did nothing more than wait and stare at the ground.
At last, she was able to murmur softly, "I...I don't know what to say."
He signed, "I...not hear this."
She swallowed again, the lump in her throat refusing to budge. Several times she attempted to speak, but her voice failed her. Instead, a tear streaked down her cheek.
"What...wrong?" he asked again.
She shook her head from side to side. Reaching out, he traced the tear as it ran down her cheek, but she looked away from him, causing his hand to fall away.
"Wife? Wives? Or...lack of ponies...no wealth?" he asked. "This...what last said. Makes...you cry?"
