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“You still say I will have a part in naming the child?” Runner asked, his eyes anxiously wide.
“We are a family, aren’t we?” Leonida said, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, now tanned almost as copper as the Navaho’s. With his dark eyes and raven hair, he did look more Navaho than white. “We will have a family council. We will listen to each other’s suggestions. The choice will be a mutual one.”
Runner gave her a beaming smile, then left the hogan in a mad dash.
Her afternoon meal simmering in the pot, her three-room hogan spotlessly clean, Leonida decided to go outside and sit in the shade while she awaited Sage’s return. He had left before she rose from their bed, saying that he was making something special for her.
But he had warned her that it was something that she could not use until after the birth of the child.
She was wondering what it could be, thrilled at the thought that he was making her a special gift. Yet didn’t he know that it was enough—just to have him?
Feeling so content, Leonida went to the pile of blankets that lay against the wall. Tears pooled in her eyes when her gaze fell on the blanket that Pure Blossom had made for her wedding to Harold. Sage had allowed her to keep it after she had told him that Pure Blossom wished it.
Lifting it, she draped it over her arms, then waddled to her basket in which was stored her basket-making paraphernalia. Carrying these things, she went outside the hogan. After spreading the blanket on the ground, she got as comfortable as it was possible to be in her condition and began working again on a basket, her agile fingers weaving willow stems and yucca leaves together.
She would weave for a while, then rest and gaze around her, eagerly watching for Sage’s return. She nodded a quiet hello to those who walked past her, some women carrying basket water bottles pitched with jicara, pinyon gum from the river, another bearing an olla, or water jug, balancing her awkward burden atop her head. Some women were chasing after children, others were busy at the large communal outdoor fire, where food was always kept over the fire for those who did not want to heat up their hogans too much.
The women of the village were all busily employed. Some were grinding corn with their metates, slanted slabs that they used with hand-held stones to break up the hard kernels. Others sat before large looms, weaving brightly colored blankets in bold geometrical designs. While still others worked on smaller belt looms, keeping tension on the warp threads by tying them to a belt worn around the waist.
Beyond that scene of domestic peace stretched the red mesas with their steep gullies and deep canyons. Above arched the pure blue dome of the sky. Sage truly had found a paradise for his people, Leonida thought.
“My wife, the air is dry and sparkling today, is it not?” Sage said, suddenly there beside her, carrying a beautiful saddle.
“Yes, quite.” Leonida said, scarcely audible. She laid her half-made basket aside on the blanket, and slowly pushed herself up from the ground, her eyes never leaving the saddle.
“You like?” Sage said, holding the saddle out for her closer inspection.
“It’s lovely,” Leonida said, smiling up at him yet disappointed. She had thought that he was going to present her with his special gift today. Instead it seemed that he had been working on something for himself.
Then she felt guilty for being selfish. She truly would rather him have something than herself.
“The saddle will look beautiful on your chestnut stallion,” she quickly blurted.
“I did not make it for use on my horse,” Sage said, studying the saddle himself, proud of his handiwork.
Then he nudged it closer to her. “It is your gift that I told you about,” he said, smilin
g broadly. “It is a high-cantled Navaho saddle seat of slung leather over which you will throw a dyed goatskin for travel. As I promised, this was made so that your travels on horse can be more comfortable. Do you like it?”
Stunned by such a manly gift instead of something delicate and feminine, perhaps made out of flowers into a pretty wreath to hang inside her hogan, Leonida was momentarily speechless. Then knowing the hours it had taken to make the saddle, and knowing the love that had gone into it, she reached out and ran her hands over the leather. “It’s so soft and smooth,” she murmured. She started to take it from him, but he stopped her.
“It is too heavy for you to lift now, while you are with child,” he said. “But after the child is born, you can lift it onto a horse and ride beside me. I will show you hidden places that will take your breath away.”
“I truly can hardly wait,” Leonida said, looking wide-eyed up at him. “It’s been so long since I’ve gone anywhere but our hogan.”
Then her gaze shifted downward. She placed her hands on her tummy, smiling. “But I mustn’t complain. One day soon our child will also see the wonders of our paradise,” she murmured.
Runner came dashing toward them. Sage set the saddle on the ground and met Runner’s approach on bent knee. Sage’s eyes widened when he discovered what Runner was holding in his hands.
Leonida gasped and knelt down beside Sage as Runner came up to them and showed them his prizes.
“I found Chips,” he said excitedly. “And Chip’s babies. Look at them. Count them. There are four of them.”
Leonida blanched. “Darling,” she said, staring down at the tiny things, no larger than a spool of thread. “You shouldn’t have taken the babies from their mother. She’ll be unhappy, Runner. Shame on you.”
Then her eyes widened when Chips came ambling along. When she reached Runner, she settled down on his moccasined foot, as content as she could be.
“See?” Runner exclaimed loudly. “She is glad to share with me.”
