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Then she turned to Dancing Butterfly. “And this is Dancing Butterfly, who is now your aunt and who is my very best friend in the world,” she murmured.
Little Horse ran up and clung to his mother’s skirt, his dark eyes slowly assessing David. In his free arm, the coyote pup lay cuddled and asleep. He smiled at his father as he came now and stood beside Brave Wolf.
“And this child is Little Horse,” Mary Beth said, gesturing toward him. “He is Dancing Butterfly’s son, who is now your cousin.” She smiled at Night Horse. “And this is Night Horse, Brave Wolf’s brother and Little Horse’s father.”
Mary Beth saw that her son was having trouble absorbing so much. She started to take his hand to lead him home with her and Brave Wolf, but stopped when Little Horse stepped away from his mother, toward David.
“Do you want to hold White Coyote?” Little Horse asked, smiling up at David, who was twice as tall as he.
“A coyote pup! And he is white,” David cried. He held his arms out. “Yes, I would love to hold him.”
Little Horse gently laid his pup in David’s arms.
David beamed.
“Will you be my friend?” Little Horse asked, his eyes wide.
David smiled and nodded, then walked away with Little Horse to a crowd of children, who began asking David questions all at once.
But Mary Beth saw how David suddenly turned and looked at Black Feather who was riding from the village. She saw the shine of tears in his eyes. Then he turned his head quickly away, as though he knew it was best not to linger over the pain of parting.
She sighed with relief when she saw him talking with the children.
She turned to Brave Wolf.
“I have not only brought home our son, but also much meat for our plates,” Brave Wolf said, just as horses approached, dragging travois covered with fresh slabs of meat.
“It is not so much buffalo meat as deer,” Brave Wolf said. “But no matter. It is good and nourishing for all of our bellies.”
Mary Beth reached for him, then drew him into her arms. “Do you know how happy you have just made me?” she murmured. “My darling, thank you from the bottom of my heart for bringing my son home to me.”
“It is good to see the peace in your eyes that your son’s return has put there,” Brave Wolf said, holding her close as his people clamored around the meat-laden travois. He watched his mother being taken back to her lodge, then held Mary Beth away from him.
“Tonight we will have a great celebration,” he said. “We will celebrate the reuniting of you and your son, and the good hunt.”
He saw a sudden mischievous glint in Mary Beth’s eyes, then noticed how her hands slid down and rested across her belly.
“My darling, we have even more to celebrate than that,” she said, her eyes dancing. “My adorable chieftain husband, I . . . am . . . with child.”
His eyes brightened and widened. “You are pregnant?” he gasped, then laughed and lifted her into his arms. He swung her around playfully as he shouted out the news for everyone else to hear.
Mary Beth giggled and found this moment to be oh, so very, very delicious!
Chapter Thirty-three
I am certain of nothing but of the
holiness of the Heart’s affections,
of the truth of Imagination—what the
imagination seizes as Beauty must be
truth, whether it existed before, or not.
—Keats
The skeleton trees were laced with the white of a recent snowfall. Two years had passed. Now the parents of two sons, Mary Beth and Brave Wolf were content if no more children were born to them.
