“See, Pa. I told you Miss Cochran wasn’t going anywhere.”
Awkward silence fell at the table, both Mitch and Priscilla very interested in their food.
“Sounds to me like she’s heading off to the reservation come summer. What do you say Mitch?”
He snorted and continued to eat, despite the hardy laugh coming from Two Moons.
Dinner was over and they were all stuffed. Amazingly enough, the two men and Ian helped her clean up from the meal. Her papa had always helped Mama, but she didn’t think it was a practice other men took up. She was grateful for the help.
Two Moons reached for his blanket, hat, and pole. “I’m off to your house, Mitch. Gonna need a place to bed down for a day or two.”
“That’s good. We’re trying to hunt down a mountain lion that’s killed quite a few animals around here, and the farmers and ranchers are upset. We already had one party out, but we never got him. If you’re here for a couple of days, you can join us. We could us the help.”
Ian stared at Priscilla with a look that begged for her to tell Mitch she could shoot very well herself. She gave her head a quick shake. She wasn’t quite ready to reveal her secret just yet. It had been bad enough that Mitch had caught her running around in her britches.
Two Moons held his hand out to Ian. “Come with me, boy. I want you to practice your Crow on the walk home. Your pa can come along in a little bit.”
Before Priscilla could protest there was no reason for Mitch to hang behind, the Indian and Ian were out the door. All of a sudden she felt very nervous and didn’t want to be behind closed doors with Mitch. “I feel the need to take a walk myself. Help to digest my food.”
Mitch looked relieved. “Good idea. Go get your coat, and make sure you wear a hat and gloves. It’s cold out there.”
Pushing back damp curls from her face, she said, “Actually after the heat of cooking all day, the cold air will feel good.”
As they strolled away from the house, Mitch took her hand and tucked her arm into his. The night was beautiful, the air cold, the stars like diamonds in the sky. Soft light glowed along the street from the gas lights. Shrouded in shadows, the town looked cozy, peaceful. A beautiful place to be.
She wasn’t kidding herself about missing her family. Thanksgiving was always a huge, boisterous affair, like every other celebration with the Henderson and Cochran families. An ache in her chest started and before she could stop it, a tear gathered in her eye and slid down her cheek. Another one followed and a few more after that. Unfortunately they passed under a streetlight just as Mitch looked at her. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
It might have been the beautiful night, or the sudden longing for her family, or the endearment he used, but before she knew it, she was wrapped in his arms and sobbing on his chest. “I miss my family.”
Instead of another I-told-you-so tirade, he ran his palm up and down her back. “I know. It would impossible for you not to miss them.” He reached into his pocket and produced a handkerchief. “It’s clean,” he said.
“Thank you.” She wiped her face and took a deep breath. “I like it here. I really do. And I plan to stay.” She stuck her chin out. “But I do miss them on days like this.”
Mitch placed his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him. “Days like this I miss my family, too.”
“Your wife?”
“Sadly, not as much as I should. We were married less than a year. Most of that time she was sick with carrying Ian.” He looked up at the stars. “What I miss is my parents and the life we had. They always made a big fuss on Thanksgiving Day, also. Ihkáa always made many Crow dishes. Père made sure his favorite French foods were on the table, too. And, of course, I had to have turkey. It was a combination of Crow, French, and American.” He shook his head. “I try to keep Ian aware of his heritage.”
“That’s why he goes to the reservation every summer?”
“Yes.”
“So you called your father by the French word for father and I assume Ihkáa is the Crow word for mother?”
“It is. As I said, it was a combination life.?
?
“It sounds like a wonderful one.”
He turned them and headed back to her house. “It’s getting late, and I’m sure after all the cooking you did today, you must be tired.”
“Yes, I am. And tomorrow’s a work day.”
“I thought school was closed tomorrow.”
“It is. But I have to work. I have plenty of papers to grade, and I have to start planning the Christmas concert and pageant.”