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A soft breeze brushed across his cheek, and then Mia’s.
They exchanged quick smiles, for they both felt her father’s presence.
Mia now knew that he had heard, and he was happy for her.
Chapter Thirty-two
Thirteen Years Later
Spring—BIRD RETURN MOON
Though it was spring, snow could still be seen where trees shadowed the land. On a nearby hillside and across the meadows, flowers dotted the ground in a patchwork of color. Pussy willows were wearing their gray, fuzzy coats, and crocuses showed their bright faces of purple, white and yellow.
V-shaped flocks of birds flew high overhead, their squawking racket welcome since it had not been heard during the long months of winter.
It was the time of the spring hunt and Mia, who was now known by all as Lady Hawk, stood proud and very pregnant at the entranceway of hers and Wolf Hawk’s tepee.
She was watching the warriors bringing in their heavy packs of beaver pelts, as well as many travois heavily laden with meat already cut into many portions.
Wolf Hawk led the way on his horse, pride in his smile as he found Mia standing there. He knew that she would be feeling guilty for not being able to join the other women as they met the warriors, ready to help unload what had been brought home from the successful hunt.
Mia was too heavy with child to join them, and the women understood.
Mia looked past Wolf Hawk, and saw their son of twelve winters. He sat proudly on his pony beside his father, returning from his very first hunt as a young brave.
His name was Spirit Hawk and he had been born in the exact image of his chieftain father, with the same intensely dark eyes, proud, lifted chin, and sculpted features.
Today he was attired as was his father, in a full fringed outfit, his coal black hair held back by a headband, then falling on down past his waist.
Spirit Hawk had skills with a bow and arrow that exceeded most his age, but not every youth had a father such as Wolf Hawk for a teacher.
Mia was so proud of the way Wolf Hawk spent so much time with both his children. Already, he was teaching Spirit Hawk the mystical secrets of his father and grandfather.
It did not worry Mia that her son might one day soar in the heavens as a hawk, or run on all fours as a beautiful, sleek wolf. She had grown used to her husband’s secrets, and saw nothing wrong in her son walking in the same moccasins as his father and grandfather.
Talking Bird was now far past his hundredth winter and still did his magic whenever it was needed. Mia loved going and sitting and talking with the old Shaman, as did her two children.
Yes, there was more than a son to brag about. There was a daughter whose name was Recosha. She was now ten winters of age, and anxiously awaiting the birth of Mia’s third child.
Recosha wanted a sister.
Mia cared not whether she had a boy or a girl this time; she was just so proud that she was giving her husband another child. She had never seen anyone who loved children more than Wolf Hawk, except for herself.
They made quite a pair, thinking so much alike about everything. It had been their destiny to meet. Their marriage was filled with love and devotion, and…happiness.
Thus far the white government had not interfered in the Bird Clan’s lives. Wolf Hawk had made certain his people did nothing to warrant attention that might bring the white pony soldiers to their village.
No one had seemed to have missed the two trappers who had disappeared with the old fort after the earthquake.
As for Tiny? He, too, had never been seen again.
Mia had often wondered about him, whether or not he lived or died, after having lost one of his shoes, his deck of cards, and several strands of his hair. It was as though Tiny had just disappeared into thin air, and Mia only now and then wondered about him.
She frequented her father’s grave, and often wished that she could go back to where her mother had been buried. Unfortunately, she knew it was unlikely she would ever find that grave again. It had been quickly dug, and her mother quickly buried, for at that time she and her father had felt like targets of the lone Indian who had killed her mother.
Mia brushed all of her troubled thoughts aside as Wolf Hawk rode up in front of the tepee and dismounted.
She rushed outside and flung herself into his arms. “It is good to have you home again,” she murmured. “And I saw the pride on your face when you looked at Spirit Hawk. I assume that means his hunt was good?”
