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He went to her and drew her into his embrace. “Can you be happy even though we have no good news about your son?” he asked thickly.
“How can I not be happy on my wedding day when I am marrying the most wonderful man in the world?” she murmured, clinging to him.
She closed her eyes when David came into her mind’s eye.
Just as Dancing Butterfly had to move on with her life without someone she loved, so must Mary Beth. In time the hurt would surely lessen.
But today?
Ah, yes.
She had her wedding and all the wonderful memories that would come with it to sustain her on those days when her loss weighed heavily in her heart.
And she had not given up on seeing her sweet son again. She . . . would . . . never give up!
“It is time for you to dress in your special attire, while I dress in mine,” Brave Wolf said, leaning Mary Beth away from him so they could look into one another’s eyes. “You will go with Dancing Butterfly to her lodge. There she has laid out the most beautiful doeskin dress for you to wear. I shall go to my . . . no, our lodge and prepare myself for you.”
Mary Beth’s heart was singing. She giggled with happiness, then looked up at Pure Heart, who was just now entering her lodge carrying the cat. She felt good about having found a way to help the elderly mother of her beloved Brave Wolf cope with the loss of a son she more than likely would never see again.
“Come now,” Dancing Butterfly said, taking Mary Beth by the hand. “It is time!”
Mary Beth’s heart raced with excitement. She had never thought she could love a man so much.
But she did, and he loved her in return. And they were going to become man and wife only a short while from now.
“Is this really real?” she said, drawing Dancing Butterfly’s eyes to her. “Is this truly happening? I am soon to be married to Brave Wolf?”
“It is all very real,” Dancing Butterfly said, her eyes no longer filled with tears, but instead, laughter. “Ah, what a wonderful man you are getting, and what a wonderful woman he is getting in you.”
Mary Beth blushed. “Thank you,” she murmured, then followed Dancing Butterfly into her tepee. She stopped and stared disbelievingly at the dress that was spread out for her.
She had never seen anything so beautiful!
Chapter Twenty-nine
Lo, this is she that was the
world’s delight.
—Swinburne
There was still a steady throb of rawhide drums outside the lodge where the newlyweds lay on a bed of thick pelts. Delicate asters lay close by, the flowers chosen by Mary Beth to hold during the wedding ceremony.
The air was sweet with incense that Brave Wolf had tossed into their lodge fire. That fire lapped slowly now around the logs, like fingers caressing them, giving off a soft light and creating dancing shadows along the inside walls of the tepee.
“I shall never forget this day,” Mary Beth said as she lay beside Brave Wolf. “It was as though I was walking on clouds as I stood beside you during the ceremony. And the dress. Ah, the dress. It was almost as white as linen and so beautifully trimmed with ermine and ornamented with porcupine quills and beads. I especially loved the necklace of rock swallow feathers that your mother gave me to wear. I felt like a princess.”
She snuggled closer and giggled. “I still do,” she murmured. “I am dizzy with happiness.”
Mary Beth ran her fingers through Brave Wolf’s loose and flowing raven-black hair. “And you,” she murmured. “You were so handsome in your fringed doeskin attire, with your hair in braids bound in otter fur. I loved your hair that way, but I must confess, I like it much . . . much better loose and flowing.”
She leaned her face into his hair. “I love its smell,” she murmured. “I love its thickness.”
He took her hand and kissed its palm, then held it over his heart. “Dancing Butterfly was making that dress for our ceremony before she knew you, and before Night Horse left to join the whites as a scout,” Brave Wolf said. He released her hand and leaned on an elbow so that he could get a full look at his new bride.
She was so beautiful, the very sight and nearness of her spread fire throughout him.
“Even when Night Horse disappeared from Dancing Butterfly’s life, she continued making the dress,” he went on.
