Whitefeather's Woman

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Jane shook her head. “I could never get tired of any of you. You’ve all been so kind to me after I showed up here, out of the blue and by my own silly mistake. I love this place. It’s so solid and safe.”

“You wouldn’t have said that a few years back when the winters were so bad. Plenty of folks from the East think this country is full of danger. I’m not sure there’s anyplace a body’s safe from all harm. Even if there was, you might be bored to death.”

“I’d take my chances.” Jane hoped her reply sounded lighthearted.

Matchmaking must be in the air, John decided ruefully, as he rode back to the ranch from Sweetgrass.

He’d first suspected something was afoot when Walks on Ice had introduced him to a distant cousin who’d come to visit from her reservation farther north.

“This is Moon Raven. Her grannie is my cousin. She’s a good worker, like all the women in our family. Smart and respectful. Pretty, too, isn’t she, Night Horse?”

John couldn’t deny it. The girl was attractive, with hair the color of her namesake bird and eyes the hue of ripe wild plums.

“Welcome to Sweetgrass, Moon Raven. I hope you’ll have a good visit.”

To Walks on Ice he asked, “How are the children? Have any more come down with the fever?”

The old woman shook her head. “Not since Ruth put all the sick ones together, away from the rest. Two are still weak, but the others are better. Moon Raven was a great help to Ruth.”

“I’m sure she was. Thank you, Moon Raven.”

“Your sister is a skillful healer. I was honored to work with her and learn from her.”

Walks on Ice beamed. “I like a girl with a mannerly tongue in her mouth. You can tell she’s been well brought up—no black robe schools to fill her head with foolishness. How old are you, Night Horse?”

“Have you forgotten how to count, Auntie? Your hands brought me into this world. You should know it was thirty years ago.”

“As many as that?” The old woman shook her head dolefully. “And still no children. My Lame Elk is younger than you, yet he has four fine sons and a new little daughter who is the joy of his eyes.”

John didn’t need to be told. He had noted the arrival of each new addition to Lame Elk’s family with joy. And envy.

“Lame Elk is a lucky man. Well, I must go talk to Bearspeaker. Goodbye.” Before Walks on Ice could get another word out, John strode away.

If he thought he’d left Moon Raven behind, he was wrong.

“So you met our pretty visitor, Night Horse?” Bearspeaker eyed John slyly. “What did you think of her?”

“A fine girl. How’s the hunting been? Do you need any supplies from town?”