All of a sudden, the image of Stands Strong sprang into view; he was coming upon them from the side and speeding his own mount in a line directly toward Briella. Guiding his pony with only one hand, he was hanging on to one side of the horse, and, as though he were part eagle honing in on its prey, as soon as his mount brought him in close to the child, he picked Briella up and brought her firmly into his arm at the exact moment his pony made a sharp turn away from the danger, the pony avoiding a collision with the uncontrolled horse, which was still rearing. It wasn't until he and the child were safely away from both Czanna and the others in the procession when she saw Stands Strong at last straighten back up into his seat, the child still held firmly within his arm.
Czanna was running toward them and was crying out at the same time, "Briella! Stands Strong! Thank God you are both safe! I could not bear it if I had lost you both!"
Crying, she sped right up to Stands Strong and his pony, halting beside them and reaching up to take hold of her sister. In an instant, she brought Briella into her arms.
Looking up at Stands Strong, Czanna cried, "I am so sorry she escaped me! It is my fault, but it happened so fast! She was gone before I could catch her! What would I have done if you hadn't been there for her, for me?" She gazed up at Stands Strong with what she felt must be a look of her utter admiration for him, this man who always seemed to be there when she needed him.
He didn't answer. Indeed, he appeared to be as alarmed as she felt. But, instead of scolding her—as Czanna felt she deserved—he simply gazed down at her from where he sat upon his mount, and at last, taking a deep breath, he said, "It is not your fault. What could you have done? I only feared I would not befast enough to save her. Much of the credit is due to my buffalo pony, who carried me safely to your sister and then safely away."
Then he dismounted, coming to stand before her, and, reaching out, he brought both her and Briella into his arms. He didn't speak. Neither did she.
Briella, however, was not to be silenced, and, looking up at Stands Strong, she wiggled in Czanna's arms and said to him, "Love you, Stan Song. Love horsey, too."
After a moment, Stands Strong answered Briella and said, "I love you, too. Both of you." Then, kissing Czanna's cheek, he murmured, "I fear there is now no manner by which we can hide our love for each other. I fear it is there for all to see."
And, though what he said was true, still, Czanna cried.
****
Supper had come and gone. It had been a wonderful affair, filled with the best Pikuni food, stories and laughter.
Yet,…
Because it was almost summertime, the days were getting longer, and, although the evening meal was over, the sun was only now starting to set in the west. All of the families were seated on blankets set in a circle around a fire pitched in front of the most beautiful tepee Czanna had ever seen. Painted in blue, green and white patterns of stripes, triangles and round circles, it was large enough so that they all could have easily and comfortably gone inside. But, the evening was warm and the sunset too beautiful for the people to be so soon shunted inside.
Czanna took note of the seating arrangements at once: the men sat on one side of the circle; the women on the other. All of the children were included in the circle, although the younger ones, playing their games, ran around the adults but never did they come between their elders and the fire.
Thinking back, Czanna had to admit to never seeing a people so quick in making camp, and she considered the Hungarian Army might be shamed by how soon the women had set up the camp.Indeed, once the chief had announced where they would pitch their encampment—which was on the prairie close to the springs—the women had gone to work.
Amazed at how quickly all of the women—including the young girls, except for the babies—had joined in to raise up each of the lodges, Czanna had watched in awe. The entire task had been done in minutes rather than hours.
Each family's possessions had then been taken off the backs of the ponies and placed within the lodges, while the older boys had led the animals out to the best pasture, two of those boys being stationed there to watch the herd.
At present, Liliann and a few of the older girls were watching the two young ones, one of them being Briella, while Stands Strong's almost-mother held her newborn baby in her arms.
All through supper, and even now with the warmth and buzz of conversations happening all about her, Czanna had done little more than look at Stands Strong where he sat across from her, the evening fire between them. He, too, seeming to be immune to all the laughing and talking, gazed back at her.
Czanna knew she was in moral trouble, if only in her own mind. At present, her every thought was about and centered around Stands Strong. She saw again and again his acts of bravery: Stands Strong coming to help her and her family; Stands Strong teaching her to scout; Stands Strong telling her he loved her. Stands Strong kissing her. Stands Strong saving her sister. But, most of all, he was Stands Strong, the man whom she craved to keep near to her.
Indeed, she had never felt more in love with another human being, not in all her days upon this earth. Her heart and her mind—indeed, all her senses—were begging her to acknowledge one true fact: she should marry this man. Perhaps then, and only then, could she achieve the feeling of closeness she sought with him.
Oh, how she wished she could marry him. But, she dared not. She was charged with a duty to her family, and she couldn't let go of her obligation.
If only their two worlds were more alike…
Their lifestyles, however, were not similar in any manner, and, like a magnet, Czanna felt pulled by both of their culture's opposing poles. Yes, she felt charged with the duty she'd known was hers from her first breath upon this earth. But, she also knew this: never in this entire world would she ever find a man she loved more than Stands Strong. Never. Stands Strong had somehow taken his place within her heart, now and forever.
But, to become an Indian like these three white women, who were now seated beside her and who were chatting happily back and forth, was not in her plans. Two of these women Stands Strong referred to as his almost-aunties. The other was his almost-mother.
Earlier this day, Czanna had met his lovely and charming almost-mother, Sharon, who, holding her baby, was now sitting beside Czanna on her left. Both of his equally fine-looking aunties were seated on Czanna's right. And so, the three women talked to one another back and forth and around Czanna, and while they included her in their conversations, she knew she dare not join in with them.
She supposed it was as Stands Strong had said it would be: there was no way to hide their love for one another from his family. Not now.
And yet, they were not married, nor were they lovers, though they would have been had Stands Strong not possessed the strength to pull away from her that one time when they had been scouting.
Should she give in to him and marry him? His heroism today on her own and her sister's behalf inclined her to believe she should. And, she would certainly marry him if only she didn'thave to change who she was in order to become his woman. She could never be an American Indian.
Still, there was a hidden and deep knowledge within her, soothing her fears and pleading with her to listen to her heart, begging her to hear its words:
