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“Because they might believe Night Horse purposely spoiled Custer’s plans. He might even now be afraid that I, and our people as a whole, would be seen as enemies because we hid him from those whites who might want him. He might have left, Mother, to keep us free of such suspicion in the future. So I do not think badly of him for having left. I see him as giving and . . . courageous.”
“It is good that you can see him in that respect,” Dancing Butterfly said bitterly as she stepped up beside Brave Wolf. She angrily wiped tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I see him as . . .”
She stopped before saying anything else. She just sighed and tried hard not to make things worse today for Pure Heart and Brave Wolf.
Mary Beth gave Dancing Butterfly a look of understanding, then gazed at Brave Wolf, whose life had also been touched today by Night Horse’s sudden departure. She gently placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know that you are torn in many directions. I am so sorry.”
She went to Pure Heart and touched her on the cheek. “Whenever you need me, to talk, or anything, I am here for you,” she murmured.
Mary Beth noticed that the sight of the cat in her arms distracted Pure Heart so much, she even stopped crying. Mary Beth saw it as a good distraction and smiled, for when Pure Heart reached over and ran her hand over the cat’s soft fur, she saw a softness enter the old woman’s eyes, and knew that this cat had come today for more than one reason.
It had came to help an elderly women cope with a loss that was breaking her heart.
“Where did this animal come from?” Pure Heart asked, still stroking, sighing when the cat awakened and began softly purring. “And listen to it. It is making such a contented noise.”
“The cat is purring because it is contented,” Mary Beth said, then handed the cat to Pure Heart. “Here. Hold her. Feel her sweetness. I had a cat of my own that . . . that . . . I left in Kentucky.”
Pure Heart took the cat, then cuddled it in her thin arms. “Cat . . . this is a cat,” she murmured. She gazed curiously up at Mary Beth. “The only cats I know about are black and large and dangerous, and also bobcats. Is this cat related to either of them?”
“Well, I guess, in a way, but it is nothing like them,” Mary Beth said, reaching over to stroke the cat. “This cat is tame. It hasn’t a wicked bone in its body.”
Mary Beth loved the way the cat leaned its face into her hand, as though it knew it had found a loving home.
“I would like to have a cat for myself,” Pure Heart said. “It would fill my empty heart and my empty home with such love. The noise it makes, which you call purring, fills my heart with a bliss I cannot even explain.”
“That’s what cats are good for,” Mary Beth said, then forced herself to ask. “Do you want to keep the cat for yourself?”
She badly wanted the cat, but knew that Brave Wolf’s mother needed something to take away the pain of losing her second-born son all over again.
“Is it mine to keep?” Pure Heart asked, questioning Mary Beth with her eyes. “Where did it come from? How do you know it so well?”
“It belonged to . . .” Mary Beth stopped before saying the colonel’s name, for she was afraid that if she told Pure Heart whom the cat had belonged to, she might not want anything to do with it. She would not want to know that evil man’s hands had stroked its fur.
“I’m not certain who its owner was,” Mary Beth said, hating to lie even for a good cause. “The cat just happened to find me one day . . . when . . . I was at Fort Henry. But she got frightened away by the soldiers. I hadn’t seen her again until now.”
“Her?” Pure Heart said, gazing at the cat again. “Is this cat a she cat? She will have babies some day?”
Mary Beth only then realized that there was something different about the cat that she had not noticed before. With its fur so matted, its shape was better revealed. There was a puff
iness about its tummy. Mary Beth’s cat had given birth to kittens many times. This was exactly how her cat had looked when it was pregnant.
“This cat is heavy with kittens as we speak,” Mary Beth said, beaming at the thought of the cat having kittens so that she might have one for herself, perhaps even two.
“Kittens?” Pure Heart asked.
“Babies,” Mary Beth said, reaching over to stroke the cat again. “She is going to have babies. Mine had eight at a time. Who is to say how many this one will have?”
“Eight babies, I mean kittens,” Pure Heart said, her old eyes beaming.
Suddenly the morning that had been so filled with sorrow was now filled with hope and love.
“I shall care for her with all the love of a mother,” Pure Heart said, turning to go to her own lodge with the cat.
Mary Beth turned to Dancing Butterfly. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she murmured, then drew Dancing Butterfly into her embrace. “Please don’t be too sad. There will come a time when you will meet someone else. You are so beautiful, there will be many who will want to court you.”
“I have never wanted anyone but Night Horse, nor shall I ever,” Dancing Butterfly said, a sob catching in her throat. She eased from Mary Beth’s arms. “But I have done enough crying this morning. I am sorry. I shall not do anything else to ruin your special day. I shall do everything to make it a happy one.”
“You have already done a lot for me,” Mary Beth said. She smiled radiantly up at Brave Wolf. “I have been smudged. I am ready to become your bride.”
