Author's Note: 150 reviews! :D Thanks, Morganstern15, Old Soul in Wonderland, Earthsong1, Anna, Pinkdynamite, and ScarlettMeadow123102!

I've been doing heavy research on how to get a blog going for extra income (and hopefully become my 'real' job)...had no idea how complicated and expensive it is to do it legally! I had this chapter written Monday, but then a computer crash happened.


Grandmama stepped in with a smile early the next morning while Charles nursed. "Someone is here to see you."

Mark. Her heart skipped a beat. Last night felt like forever ago. The first day of courting, and it would surely be perfect. "I'll be right there." When Grandmama stepped out, she smiled at the babe. "Hurry. Papa has come to visit us." Minutes later felt like hours. Rushing out with Charles, she stopped short.

Bear stood there with a long, beautiful feather in offering.

The joyful elation plummeted.

He spoke in his tongue, the language fluid and intelligible as he kept it slow for her to keep up in translation. His hours of engaging teaching had made it easy to pick up most of what people said. "I shall never speak of it again, should you deny this offering of courtship, Sunshine. The Elders decided that within three moons, I shall sit among them. In your tongue, I struggle to speak, and realize I've offended you at times. Although I do not always understand what you are saying, I see your Spirit. It is kind and wiser than your years. You have the Spirit that Elders seek in a wife, and you have a heart that I will love more each day. You are not obedient and silent like other women; you're like a wild horse where the courage and strength make you more beautiful and wiser."

"Bear," she begged, "please, don't do this." To devastate him again would hurt so much.

But he held up a hand. "I know you will not choose me, but I have to know I tried. You offer friendship in marriage, I know. I would rather have a piece of you than none at all. Never will I disrespect your boundaries, just as the day respects the night. You share a world with your white man in a way I never can with you, yet I share a world with you in a way he never can. You and I, we come from the earth. Close your eyes."

"Bear."

"For a moment," he pleaded.

So she did.

"Feel the rays of the sun on your face, the Spirit of the eagle glide through your hair with the wind. The grass and earth breath underfoot. Hear the birds sing and smell the baby in your arms. You come from this earth, Sunshine." He set her hand over his warm, hard chest where it moved in gentle undulations of his heartbeat. It beat fast, seeming to know it was about to shatter from heartbreak within the next moments. "This runs through our blood. No matter where you are or what is wrong, you can return to the earth for strength."

She opened her eyes.

"You will never find happiness with me if you love another." Grief dulled his eyes, as if he saw his words couldn't change her mind. But dignity and grace remained in his quiet strength. "An Elder may give a feather of his headdress to two people whom he believes to be worthy successors." He held out the long feather.

Something in her chest wrenched hard, and tears burned at this sacred gift he offered. "Bear, I'm honored, but I didn't grow up in this world and will never fit in it. There are things you don't know about me...I'm not worthy of this feather. Even if I didn't love Mark, I'm not worthy of even being courted by an Elder."

"You will do many great things, if only you let the Spirits guide you to believe in yourself. I've heard of your upbringing from your grandfather, of where your babe is from. What the white man sees as flaws, I see a woman with more courage than the bear, more wisdom than the eagle and more honor than any Elder I've known. There are those who will never fit in, because they were meant to stand out, Sunshine." Heartbreak shimmered in his eyes as he wrapped her hand around the quill of the feather. "This is yours. I've asked the Spirits to lead you happiness, wherever it may be."

He walked back down the path, his back not straight and tall for once.

Tears blurred him.

Grandmama came out of the hut. "Oh my," she whispered and looked after Bear. "That is a great honor to be given a feather, much less at such a young age. And never has it been given to a woman." Grandmama set a hand on her arm. "He didn't tell you, did he?"

"Tell me what?" She brushed at her eyes.

"The Elders choose the wives for fellow Elders. It's considered a woman's highest honor to be chosen as an Elder's wife. Should he not follow through, he must go before the Elders and see if he is to be rejected by them for twelve moons."

"They punish him because I refuse to marry him?" Her voice broke. Bear did not deserve that.

Sad eyes turned to her. "Given the circumstances of you arriving wed to Mark, they likely won't do anything more than push back his initiation a couple months. To not shame him, you must acknowledge his upcoming status now, until the Elders determine if he's to be punished."

"What do you mean?"

"He asked that none of us do it while he attempted to court you, because he feared you'd be self-conscious with him. When Elders approach, we must kneel, with our legs tucked underneath in respect, and you are to address him by his full name of Fighting Bear."

"We can't be friends, can we?"

"A non-relative woman with an Elder? No, granddaughter, I'm afraid not." Grandmama took her free hand and held her eyes. "As the wife of an Elder, I'm obligated to tell you that Fighting Bear would provide well for you and Charles." She paused and stroked her cheek. Tears of grief glistened in her eyes. "I lost my only child and my only grandchild for thirty years to a white man. I'm terrified that it'll happen again, but each man deserves a chance to not be defined by the mistakes of his race. Mark has promised us that he'd never keep you away." A tear slipped down Grandmama's face - the first time ever witnessing Grandmama show true fear. "As your grandmother, I want to see you happy. I want you to follow your heart."

"I've always loved Mark, Grandmama," she sniffled. "But I don't want to punish Bear or lose him as a friend. Take Charles for a moment." She hurried down the path after Bear. He'd sacrificed so much, without a word about it to her.

"Wait!" She ran down the trail to the sweathouse. "Bear!" When he turned, the rules flashed to mind. Dropping to her knees, she bowed her head and switched to his tongue. "I mean, Fighting Bear - "

A strong hand wrapped around hers and pulled. "Up. Bear. I am simply Bear to you," he said in his tongue in a thick voice, "and you do not kneel to me."

"I do." Tears burned at the sound of him holding back heartache. "I gave up that right when I ended our courtship."

Tenderness filled his brown eyes as he swept away her tear with his finger. "I want you to follow your heart."

That only brought forth more tears. "I don't want you to be punished. I'll go to the Elders and tell them that it's my fault - "

His strong neck convulsed in a hard swallow, and he forced a sad smile. "This is why I didn't want you to know, Sunshine. You love him?"

She nodded.

"Then go to him. All I wish is to see you happy." A single tear fell from his eyelash, but it held the pain of a thousand.

She choked on a sob. "I'm sorry."

His drew in a shaky breath and gave a gentle squeeze to her hand, as if he soaked it up as the first and last touch. "Do not be sorry. I do not regret a moment," he whispered.

"You're a good man, Bear. I wish you happiness."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Go on now."

Letting go, she stepped back. "Promise that when you do marry, it's for love and not just who the Elders say."

He gave a single nod, but his eyes said that chance had already passed. Turning, he continued down the path to the sweathouse, where men often went when in need of solace and reflection. Or when grieving.

Heading back, the guilt weighed heavy and the emptiness of losing him as a friend even more so.

Mark sat outside her hut speaking with Grandmama. His solemn expression said he already knew part of what had transpired.

Running into his arms, the tears fell. "Mark, I hurt him. Now he's punished and - "

"Shhh." He held tight. "Are you happy with me?"

She nodded.

"He will be alright and find the one meant for him. It's not your fault." Soothing strokes over her hair helped slow the tears.

"I don't know why I'm crying."

"Because he is one of the first who didn't see anything but who you are. I saw how you were happy with him, even when you didn't want it so. He's a good man. You're sad because you've lost a dear friend," he said softly.


Mark was left behind that afternoon while the men went to the sweathouse for a weekly spiritual cleansing while the women washed laundry in the river. She glanced back at the tribe to see Mark sit down and sharpen his arrows.

"His skin is white, but darkening. He's handsome. Wind Dancer is going to ask her brother to introduce them," a woman said in the native tongue.

Her eyes tore to the two women younger than her. They both giggled and glanced over at Mark, who was hard at work. His skin had tanned slightly since arriving - enough that he didn't stick out like a sore thumb anymore. As a foreign, mysterious but kind newcomer, he seemed to be a source of attention for the women.

"I'm done, Grandmama," she said in their tongue and finished washing Charles's last nappie. Grandmama replied something, but All focus was on retrieving Charles to hear.

Carrying the heavy basket of wet clothes, she lugged it to where a couple of the women watched all the children during laundry hour. He crawled in the grass while children fussed over him.

"Aww, does he have to go?" one of the girls asked in native tongue.

She smiled and nodded, scooping him up in one arm and trying to lift the basket with the other. Charles raised a cricket to his mouth. "No! Don't eat it!"

One of the girls came forward and got it out of Charles's little fist. "He likes them."

"I know," she groaned in the foreign tongue. Mark had given a buffalo skin blanket this morning to let Charles crawl on, hopefully keeping him from eating so many bugs and grass. There were missed perks to raising children in England - namely indoors away from bugs.

The children's eyes focused on something behind, and their Gazes rose up and up as shy smiles blossomed.

In the next instant, the basket weighed nothing and slipped away. Whirling around, she blinked. Mark had the basket on some type of sled and held the lead rope in his hand while he balanced on crutches. If his endearing chivalry didn't send her heart into fast enough palpitations, his warm smile did. "Thank you." She reached for the rope.

"You carry the babe." He slipped her arm through his and turned on the crutches.

Whispers and giggles came from behind as he led her away.

"It seems we're a source of gossip," he growled.

"The other men don't help carry the laundry. You're putting the other men in the doghouse, you know." A shy smile tugged. His arms had grown stronger since losing his leg, and the lack of shirt to cover flexing back muscles didn't help with the desire beginning to pool. Or the women's stares. She stepped closer.

"Jealous?" A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth, and he nodded toward the women staring.

"Wouldn't you like to think so," she retorted in a haughty tone.

His grin grew. "I suppose you have no interest in the fact that such a physical lifestyle here means more muscling?"

Dropping her hand from his thick arm that had grown harder in the past week already, she turned up her nose. "I have no time for a man who needs an ego stroked."

A hearty laugh erupted, and his eyes danced. "I love when you take me to task." Then he spun inn front of her and crushed her mouth in a scandalous kiss. The wretch didn't look the least remorseful, with a grin ear to ear, when he pulled back. "I should take you home and punish you for your saucy tongue."

Her eyes widened. "Everyone would hear."

That mischievous glint filled his eye. "Then I'd suggest you be quiet."

One of the Elder's wives walked past.

"This isn't decent conversation at all," she scolded, dropping her voice to a whisper.

"Neither is anything I'm thinking."

Her blush only broadened his smile, but he took mercy and changed the topic. "I notice my laundry is missing." He cocked an eyebrow in a scolding glance.

The flush deepened. "I was doing laundry anyway. There's no harm in me doing yours when it's easier for me to be in the river."

"I appreciate that, but it's not proper being we're only courting." He stopped and set the basket in front of her hut, slapping some wet laundry over his shoulder and then hobbling to her clothesline.

Setting Charles on the buffalo skin, she gave him toys and then helped Mark hang clothes. "We're wed, not courting. This whole thing is stupid." She snapped a nappie over the line in a temper.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"It's not funny!" She flung a dress over the line while he straightened out the wrinkled clothes left in her wake. "You may be having a merry time living the bachelor life, but I hate this!" Another nappie slapped over the line.

He continued calmly removing the wrinkles, his unusually cool temper only causing more irritation.

"We're married! I should be allowed to do something about being this horny seeing you half naked all the time!"

A surprised snort of laughter escaped through his nose, and he glanced around.

"I don't care who heard me. Only a few speak English anyways!" She whipped another nappie onto the line.

Strong arms wrapped around from behind, and his hot breath fluttered the strands of hair near her ear. "Calm down, my fire breathing dragon. Would I have known your vehemous opposition to this arrangement, I wouldn't have agreed to it." A slight chuckle lightened his tone.

She frowned and turned in his arms, resting her hands on his bare chest. "What did you agree to?"

His hands rested on her hips as those blue eyes held hers. "Your grandfather explained how spiritual the tribe is and how strongly opposed they are to white men since the war a few months ago. You were raised in another world, a world they've only see birth evil, and you are half white. The tribe was willing to accept us because you're an Elder's grandchild and because he convinced them that I've protected you and am not like the white men they've known. There was still hesitation and some resistance from the tribe.

"Your grandfather happened to mention when we arrived the wedding rituals that the tribe holds so dear. I brought it up to him that we have an expedited courtship where the tribe blesses the union. It also requires the suitor to have extensive conversations with the Elders and prove himself worthy. I want you to be accepted not as the half-white grandchild of an Elder, but a woman recognized for her courage and strength and skills, a woman who has kindness and wisdom of her mother and Elder grandfather."

Her eyes widened. "You botched the courtship on purpose."

At least he had the decency to blush at being caught. "It gave time for the tribe to get to know who you are without me as a distraction. They've had a chance to witness your strength as a mother and an individual. This world is different, Tanya. A woman's status in the tribe isn't completely determined by her husband or father. The bit of a shadow you did have to stand in was an Elder's. Your father's reputation cast a cloud over you in England, as did mine. Your grandfather is kind and good and a respected Elder, and he was able to cast you in a favorable light in ways your father and I never could. I want to see my wife and son accepted and given the life they deserve."

Tears welled for what he'd done for her and Charles. 'Why didn't you tell me? I've never resented you or wished you'd been able to give more. You are every bit as good of a man as any of these Elders."

A sad smile touched his lips, as if he didn't agree. "I knew you'd object if I told you, so your grandparents presented it to you as something the tribe demands of us. I don't want you blaming them, though."

She flung her arms around him. "I love you."

"I love you too, my lady love," he whispered and held tight.


The next morning, she grabbed Grandmama's pot and hurried to make breakfast for everyone. Grandfather said bridegrooms had to go to the sweathouse for a week for cleansing before marriage. If Mark popped the question soon, every second with him before then was too precious to waste.

"Granddaughter, take the babe off your back while you're trying to carry that cauldron," Grandfather scolded and took the large pot from her. "That all weighs more than you."

"It's my turn to make porridge for the tribe for breakfast."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Porridge? English eat porridge." He set the pot back in the corner of the hut and pointed to a large skillet. "Eggs. Go gather a few dozen and make eggs."

"Alright, I'll give Charles to Mark to watch - "

"Men don't watch the children."

She frowned. "But Mark has always played with him for a couple hours each day."

"Because he's lonely, his leg hurt and he was ill." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh." She turned to Grandmama. "Can you watch Charles?"

Grandmama had her hands full with pottery clay to go outside. "I have to make some more dishes with some of the women. Have Rain watch him. It's her day to care for the children." Then Grandmother slipped out.

"The last time Rain watched him, he ate worms! Grandfather, you're making this impossible! I can't bend over gathering eggs with him on me, and I can't set him down without risk of the chickens pecking him."

With an uncharacteristically unsympathetic look, he ducked out.

Taking a deep breath to calm the panic of having to cook for the entire tribe when still getting used to cooking over a campfire, she strapped Charles onto her back and grabbed a basket to go to the other side of the tribe where the chickens wandered.

Kneeling down, she set another egg in the basket. The chickens running around in a frenzy over the disturbance didn't help with getting up and down with the basket in her arms and Charles on her back.

Standing, she walked over to where another chicken had a nest. One of the dogs, who helped keep away foxes and coyotes from the chickens, ran over to help. "No!"

But he jumped up and sent the basket of eggs flying. He ran over and lapped up the treats smashed all over the ground and basket

Sinking to her knees as the despair mounted, she used her skirt to carry two eggs and start all over. Tears burned. Most of the tribe was up already and would expect breakfast so the men could go hunting. Grandfather and Mark were rumored to head out this morning to find more medicinal flowers too before the summer sun got too hot today. Her first meal for the tribe, and it wasn't going to be ready in time and likely be burned to a crisp.

A large hand reached down.

With a sniffle, she looked up. Mark. "I can't even make breakfast right."

"It's putting eggs over the fire. There's not much to mess up," he stated and pulled her up. "Go that way to get eggs, and I'll go this way." He set both crutches in one hand and managed to balance leaning over as he snatched an egg away from a chicken. Then he put it in a pouch tied around his waist.

"Men aren't supposed to help cook or watch babies," she sniffled and just stood there, too discouraged to try anymore. "You never wear a pouch."

"Screw what men should do, the point is to get done what needs to be done. Go on, gather eggs, woman." He swooped down and scooped another egg. "I heard that it's your morning for breakfast and saw Rain didn't have Charles, so I came to make sure you're doing alright trying to do it all by yourself."

She squatted down to balance Charles and picked up an egg. "I'm never going to fit in with them."

"They've been living this way all their lives. Perhaps, just perhaps, if you ask for help, they would be more than happy to teach you." He hobbled over and set five eggs in her basket. Then he stood there.

"What?"

He nodded. "Go ask the women for help. If they don't, then I will help you finish. You need to be less nervous about making friends."

"Says the lone wolf. The men left you behind when they went to the sweathouse."

"I spend all day hunting with the men, and it'll take me longer to fit in being a white outsider. They didn't leave me behind for the sweathouse - it's still too soon after illness to be able to tolerate being in there yet. Stop making excuses. Go, woman."

Swallowing her stomach, she padded over to where some of the woman worked on getting their children ready for the day. They stopped and looked at her, so she continued on past. Women doing other chores throughout the tribe stopped and watched her go by, none offering a smile. Some even looked away. Mark didn't understand that she didn't belong here any better than in England - too Injun for some and too white for the rest.

Making a full circle throughout the tribe, she returned to where he had several more eggs in hand.

"Thank you. You can go back to your chores." She pasted on a smile.

"Are some women coming to help? You need to gather dozens of more eggs to feed so many." Concern filled his eyes.

"I know, it's covered. Go on." She urged him along.

Once he was far enough away, he looked back. Tanya knelt, trying to balance the babe and basket and shoo away the dog all by herself. Heaving a sigh, he continued toward the tribe. These were hesitant but caring people. This delay in courtship was supposed to have been an opportunity for her to meet some women and fit in. Instead, it seemed to have driven her farther away. She was so used to being an outcast that she didn't know how to make friends, to help others see past her skin color.

He walked over to some women cleaning pots. They looked a bit startled by a man breaking tradition and approaching non-relative females. In a broken tongue, he said, "Sunshine get eggs. Breakfast. Babe and dog." He gestured. "No help. Worried say 'no.'" He gave a pleading look.

The three women mumbled something together and then looked at him. It sounded like they said, "She...not like us."

With a shake of his head, he set a hand over his heart. "Thinks none like her." He pointed to his skin.

Their eyes softened, and they went over to some other women sewing clothes. Those women got up and all eight left.

Following behind, he peek around a hut. One woman knelt beside Tanya and wiped her face, as if Tanya was crying. Then one of them held Charles, two others chased the dogs away and the rest helped Tanya gather eggs.

He returned to his hut to sharpen more arrows for hunting, the knot in his stomach for Tanya gone.


"He can't shoot while on a moving horse," Brave Wolf, one of the men near his own age who had taken Mark under his wing, told Tanya's grandfather on the planes that morning. Thankfully, he spoke English as well as Tiger.

"Men will believe everything is impossible until they prove it's possible," Tiger snapped. "Do not question an Elder. Try."

Gritting his teeth, Mark glanced at Brave Wolf and sent the horse into a canter. Half of a thigh to hold on while bareback was incredibly difficult. Now, Tiger demanded letting go to shoot too.

Letting go of the mane with one hand, he lifted the bow. And started to slide.

"Do it!" Tiger yelled.

Readjusting, he shot the damn arrow. And landed hard on his side, trying to roll to absorb some of the impact. The goddamn ground collapsed the air out of his lungs, leaving him gasping like a humiliated ass.

Brave Wolf arrived moments before Tiger and jumped off to help him sit up. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he wheezed and held his sore ribs.

"He cannot do it without a harness or something!" Brave Wolf shot to his feet, ever the young man to fight for justice.

Pushing himself up, pride refused to let Tiger see him need anyone's help. "Brave Wolf," he said quietly to silence the man. He whistled for the horse to return before he tipped over trying to balance on one foot.

Tiger remained on his horse and looked down. "Go catch up with our brothers to hunt." When Brave Wolf looked to argue, Tiger gave a leveling glare. "Now."

Heaving a sigh of anger, Brave Wolf jumped on his horse and galloped away.

The horse arrived, and he grabbed a handful of the mane to stay upright.

"The Elders - "

"I know. The Elders decided it's time for Tanya and I to prove our worth in the tribe." He turned to the horse. How to get on alone? Brave Wolf had been a dear friend in helping get acquainted with the customs, but he'd also been willing to serve as a crutch for the missing leg. Tiger decided today was the time to figure out how to do everything without any aid, proving he could shoulder everything the other men could.

Pushing off the ground as hard as possible, he flung up his good leg to try to hook over the horse's back. It took several falls before finally getting grip enough to drag himself up. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he grit his teeth and glared at Tiger. "Humiliate as you wish in the fields, but it will not be done in front of Tanya."

A gleam of pride reflected in Tiger's eyes. "Nothing is intended to humiliate. You could've asked for a hand, stubborn ass Englishman."

At least that was a bit of a balm. "Goddamn in-law," he growled.

Tiger laughed and pulled up his horse alongside. "You don't need a harness or saddle. If we put a weight on your leg to balance, you'll be able to hunt with us."

He grunted, although it was a good idea that would draw less attention than a harness, like some child incapable of holding his own. "Tanya does not know I practice riding instead of hunting."

"All of our brothers understand how this physical life is difficult without a leg. We had an Elder who lost a leg in middle age, and he didn't do more than women's work after that. Our brothers respect you for trying to keep up. It is why Brave Wolf isn't afraid to challenge an Elder - he looks up to you."

"He's a wet-behind-the-ears pup yet at four and twenty. If he had brains, he wouldn't challenge an Elder." He kept his eyes forward, clutching the poor horse's mane tight to balance while trying to figure out the way to prevent the hideous stump from banging during a trot.

"It shows his devotion to you. Stop fighting the horse." Tiger set a hand on his shoulder to pull it back and moved the grip on the mane lower to sit up more easily. "Let your back flex more to roll with the movements, and your leg will bounce less. Tanya tells me you were an excellent horseman before the injury."

"She'd tell you I hung the moon, if you asked her," he grumbled. Being reminded of what had once been didn't help the sting of humiliation.

"What a blessing to have a woman who is pressed to find fault with her husband. After forty years of marriage, I've found honesty is a better companion than self-imposed humiliation. Go to town and get those horses now."


That evening, he sat at the fire where everyone gathered. The women sat with Tanya tonight, offering smiles and conversation. She positively beamed tonight and openly flashed smiles his way. Her happiness and confidence served as reminders of how long it'd been since she'd warmed his bed.

"Go." Tiger sat to the right.

"She's enjoying herself."

"She's flirting looking at you every ten seconds. Should you not steal her, one of the other brothers will."

"It's not every ten seconds - "

"Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten." When she flashed a smile and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear again, Tiger nudged his shoulder. "She asked me yesterday if you'd hunted the buffalo skin that you'd given Charles."

His stomach clenched, and he focused on the dancing flames of the fire straight ahead instead of her. "What did you tell her?"

"That it's a question for you."

"And I should be eager to tell my wife I'm barely able to ride, much less hunt? She already knows I'm too weak to go to the sweathouse with the men."

"Recovering from illness is different than weakness. She looks at you no differently than in England. In fact, she seems to look at you more...let's say with a look that makes our brothers very aware that she's female."

He glared at Tiger.

The man shrugged. "Fine. You're a blind idiot."

"You're a nosey old man." He pushed himself to his foot and accepted the crutches Tiger handed. "Life was a lot less complicated before you came." Giving the customary nod before leaving an Elder, he patted Tiger's shoulder in gratitude for the encouragement.

She frowned when Mark seemed tense about his discussion with Grandfather. And then, without even looking her way, Mark got up and left.

"Do you like it?" One of the young mothers held up her babe to show the beautiful little smock she'd sewn and painted. Of course, the woman had done it all this evening.

With an inward groan at her own lack of skills, she smiled and stroked the garment as all the women fussed over it. After a moment, the women grew quiet and bashful.

Mark came from behind the group, silent and calm. His eyes locked on hers and didn't stray as he held out a hand.

Only half aware of the audience, women's hands helped her up and eased Charles out of her arms. The women helped her pick a path through everyone to reach Mark.

The moment he took her hand, the world was perfect again. He tucked her arm through his and led the way along a moonlit path through the flower fields just outside of the tribe. Only the crickets interrupted the companionable silence, and the fireflies cast romantic twinkling.

"Is your leg healing?" Her words broke the silence, easing his tension, getting him out of his own head.

"It is. Another couple weeks and then it should be able to hold up to the prosthesis."

"Do you miss it? Practicing medicine, I mean?"

"I don't miss patients dying. I miss working with you - watching your mind come up with inventions." He glanced at her as he picked his way over the uneven ground on the crutches. "Do you?"

"I miss the excitement of it, and working with you. But I like being with Charles all day."

Silence. It was a wonder she didn't sense his body shaking in nervousness. Perhaps wait to propose until the end of the night. But...

"Where are we going?"

..but proposing now would be better so she didn't have to spend the evening with a man clamed up tighter than a... "Do you wish to live in a cabin? It wouldn't be for some time because of how long it'll take to do myself with my leg," he snapped. Dammit, that came out too gruff.

"I would." She didn't seem fazed, bless her heart. "I don't mind this life for the next couple years or however long it takes to build it, but I don't know that I want to raise a family in a teepee. Honey, why don't we sit? You're clammy like you hurt."

"Because," he grunted. It wasn't from pain but goddamn nerves. "Did your grandfather tell you about the Elders expecting us to pull our own weight now?"

"He did, this afternoon when I asked why he was so cold about breakfast. I know, by the way, that you rallied the women to help get eggs." That wonderful fairy-like laugh escaped her. "You're not as sneaky as you think."

This shouldn't be nerve-wracking - of course she'd say 'yes,' but it was still damn terrifying. Stopping abruptly at her hut, he swallowed hard and waited.

She turned and blinked at the six horses tied there. "What are these?"

"They're - " He cleared his throat to steady the shakiness. Only Tanya had the power to make him this nervous. "They're a bride price. Horses are very prized in the tribe, and the more horses a man has, the more respected and wealthy he is. The more horses given in a bride price, the more precious she must be. No less than three horses may be given to the male relative of the woman sought. I didn't have any horses, so your grandfather said I could take furs to town to trade for horses today."

"Surely furs didn't buy six horses." She frowned and looked at him.

"I don't...I don't go hunting with the men every day. Brave Wolf and your grandfather help teach me how to ride bareback, and then I go to the stream nearby that has small pieces of gold. I sell them in town."

Setting a hand on his shoulder, she smiled. "I could tell when the moose attacked that you struggled to just stay on, so I knew you couldn't yet hunt on a horse. It's going to take time and practice and perhaps some modifications to be able to ride bareback without a leg. There's no reason to look ashamed. I'm proud of you for working to do everything that others can." A butterfly soft kiss pressed to his cheek.

Then she walked over to the horses and stroked their coats that had taken hours and hours of brushing to shine so. "This means we can be wed?" Her smile lit up the night, and the stars reflected in the tears in her eyes.

He nodded. "Are you going to wed me or not?" he huffed, just about ready to lose dinner.

Running to him, she pulled him down for a kiss. "A thousand times 'yes'!" Her squeal of happiness rang through the fields.

Deep, hearty laughter burst out.

Then she jerked back just as suddenly without letting go of his face. "But don't go in the sweathouse before you're able to tolerate it. And drink lots of water before you go each day. And - "

"I know." An ache formed in his cheeks from smiling like a fool. "Come."

The waterfall could be heard through the trees as the path wound closer minutes later.

"Mark, is this safe to be in the woods at night?"

"I set some poultice and such out that deters bears, moose and mountain lions - "

"Mountain lions?!" She shot closer, bumping his back.

"I wouldn't take you if it was dangerous. Close your eyes." Pressing his lips together in excitement, he pulled her forward to face the scenery. "Now."

Her soft gasp mingled with the splash of the waterfall cascading into a pool reflecting moonlight. Crickets sang and fireflies twinkled over the sandy embankment surrounded by flowers and trees.

"Mark, it's beautiful. How did you find this?"

"Brave Wolf told me about it. We can swim in it."

She whirled around, her eyes shining in the moonlight with happiness. "Your leg is healed enough?"

With a nod, he linked her arm through his and took her down the path. It would be romantic and a chance to be freed from crutches.

The moment her feet touched the sand, she laughed and knelt to run her fingers through the grains. "I've never felt a beach. Is this what the ground feels like in the water too?" Those beautiful eyes looked up.

"You've never swum?" With a frown, he let the crutches sink into the sand before taking another step toward the water.

"There was never any water near home." She took his arm and hesitated at the shoreline when he went in ankle deep. When he waited, she put a toe in. "It's still warm from the sun!"

"I wasn't going to take you swimming in an icebox. Come, you should know how to swim," he ordered and stuck out the crutch to feel the ground under the dark water.

She clung tightly to his arm. "Why do you stick out your crutch?"

"To make sure it doesn't drop off. Once we're waist deep, I'll toss the crutches on the beach."

The brave minx came out waist deep, but looked a bit nervous once the crutches were tossed to the beach. "Now, in the deep water, keep yourself afloat by treading your arms like this and your legs like this." Helping her move her arms and legs, he then launched backwards into the deep water and showed it in action.

The sweet thing crouched in the water to be chest deep and stuck her leg out.

"What are you doing?" he chuckled and swam closer.

"Making sure it doesn't drop off."

"I could touch out there yet."

"You're taller than I am." She waded out a bit more.

"Hold my hand, and I'll tell you when it's too deep." He moved ahead, letting the water help with hopping.

A whisper of a female gasp and his hand jerked. "Mark, a fawn." She pointed to the embankmaent where a doe and fawn grazed on a berry bush. She let go of his hand and slowly crept toward them, just a couple arm lengths away. Another step, and her cry cut off as she disappeared underwater.

"Tanya!" His heart shot into his throat. Diving into the pure blackness beneath, he aimed down as fast as possible in case she sank all the way in a sharp dropoff. Brave Wolf had said it was a shallow pool, but it seemed a thousand leagues deep. Something brushed his arm. Reaching out, it felt like hair. Angling down, he wrapped his arm around her waist and kicked off the pool floor to shoot to the surface. She kicked and clawed at the water to get to the surface, like she had no air left. Having one leg didn't help, so grabbing her hips, he flung her up as hard as possible.

When he broke the surface, she was gasping and coughing and starting to go under again. Catching her around the waist, he swam to the shallow water. Once it was too shallow to swim, he let go as she crawled to shore.

Every muscle shook as he dragged himself backwards up to the shoreline where a frantic, abnormally shallow cough wracked her while she leaned on her hands and knees trying to breathe yet. Jesus, she'd nearly died and now water was trapped in her lungs, still threatening to suffocate her. "Stand up!" Shoving onto his foot, he dragged her upright and doubled her over his arm. Two hard pounds on her back and she spit up a little water. When she gasped in air, a strong breath now, he pulled her into his arms. Her whole delicate body shook as she gulped air, and her heart pounded against his chest. "It's alright," he cooed and held tight. She probably trembled in shock and would need to get back to warm up. "I'm so sorry. You're alright now."

Once she quieted, he set an arm around her. "Let's get you home and warmed up."

"No."

His head snapped down to her in surprise. Her hair hung around her face and the dress plastered to her, those eyes so big like a drowned kitten.

"Teach me to swim. If we go now, I'll be too scared to come back." She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

"Tanya - "

"Please, Mark."

Heaving a sigh, he took her hand. "You know I can't deny you anything when you look at me like that. Turn so I can listen to your lungs. If there's any crackling like water is still trapped, we're going home." Turning her away, he pulled up her dress to bare her back. The nakedness that would've excited carried no weight now, replaced by the fear of her almost dying and now at risk for dry drowning or pneumonia. Pressing an ear to her lower back where water would've pooled in her lungs, he said, "Deep breaths. As deep as you can." Then he listened from the sides and front. It sounded clear.

"Mark, I'm fine." She pressed on his shoulder, her trembles subsiding.

"I'm checking with the stethoscope when we get back. We can't stay for long." Straightening, he felt her arms. The shivers had ceased. A hand to her cheek didn't reveal any calmness. His fingers pressed the side of her neck where her heart beat a little fast yet, but didn't show signs of distress. Catching her hand, it helped ease the panic to see her nailbed color have sufficient return when pressed - her circulation seemed fine.

"I'm alright." She pulled her hand free and smiled. "Thank you for rescuing me."

A disgusted snort. "Of course I rescued you! You're my wife!"

She laughed, the sound still holding a hint of fear leftover, and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Come make me not afraid of the water. Let's have a romantic night."

He straightened, and blood rushed between his legs at her nakedness now that danger was gone.

"I need my dress." She blushed and pointed to his hand.

"Oh." He stared at the dress in hand for a moment. When had that happened? Handing over the dress, his head fell back with a silent groan of agony as she turned away to put it on. A curse whispered past his lips.

"Mark, I can't get it on being wet." She had it over her shoulders but couldn't tug it farther.

"Dear god, Tanya," he moaned, the desire almost painful. The danger of having almost lost her set his blood on fire, needing to sink into her and cherish every moment with her. Fisting his hands at his sides to keep from touching her, a long sigh-growl released that did little to ease the tension building in every muscle that screamed to pick her up in his arms and have his way.

She looked over her shoulder, her eyes just as dark with lust. The muse stopped wrestling with the garment and marched over, tugging him down for devouring kiss and setting his hand on her bottom to pull her closer.

It unleashed the animalistic frenzy, and suddenly, she was on the beach beneath him as his hips thrust against her while trying to tug down his pantaloons. She panted and clung, completely willing to surrender. This wasn't right. Dear god, it took every thread of willpower to climb off of this beautiful woman.

"Mark?" She sat up and tugged hard on the dress, only able to get it over her breasts before she gave up and curled her knees up to hide her nakedness.

"No, don't." He reached out to stop her shame, but touching would only pour fuel on the fire. "I want you so much that I can't touch you right now."

"We're wed." The beautiful creature looked so confused and self-conscious.

"I agreed to courtship in the tribe. I won't ruin your reputation here." Taking extreme care to not brush her skin, he helped her pull down her dress. "Stay here." He scooted out into the water and dove under, pushing his limits to swim as far away as possible and burn out this wild instinct she'd awoken.

Popping up at the other end of the pool under the waterfall, his eyes skimmed the shoreline. Goddammit, she sat there, with her wet hair draped around her shoulders, and drew with a finger in the sand. One hand leaned down and her bare legs stretched out to the side like an exotic siren, her silent song pulling him back to shore with powers no mortal could resist.

As he scooted backwards up the shore to sit in the water chest deep, she looked up. The way her wet dress clung and damp locks framed her face brought out her exotic features, rushing the need all over again. No woman had ever made him this animalistic, this out of control, dammit.

"Are we going to swim now?" Then she smiled like only his Tanya could smile in such a carefree, pure way after nearly drowning.

God have mercy, need had never been this painful. If tonight didn't kill him, the Devil just might get ideas of how to torture in Hell. "Get in here," he barked.

She wadded in and floated into a graceful sit beside him, a mischevious smile on her lips. "It's been a long time since my bear has come."

A growl served as the response. "You will hold my hand until you can swim well enough on your own."

"Yes, Mark." She smiled.

"We need to go home soon." He scooted to stand in chest-deep water and held out a hand. "Come. We'll practice treading here."

When she reached shoulder deep herself a yard away, she hesitated.

Coming closer, his hands rested on her hips. "Tread. I'll keep you up." He pulled her out into a little bit deeper water.

A bit later, a female giggle followed a sudden splash of water in the face. Shaking the water off his face, he spotted her swimming away parallel to the shore as fast as she could. "You can't escape!" A stupid grin took hold as he shot after her.

A shriek of delight and she tried to swim faster, but three of her strokes didn't buy enough speed to outdistance every one of his.

His hand wrapped around her dainty ankle and tugged, dragging her backwards into his arms. "Put your legs around me." The words came out husky.

"Can you hold both of us?" Fear flashed in her eyes.

"I won't let you slip under water." Guiding her legs to wrap around, he pulled her arms around his neck and kept treading. With a leg missing, the power was gone to be able to have his arms free for kissing.

Her body relaxed in his arms as she seemed to realize he could support her weight. The tender smile that touched her lips, the way her eyes softened like no other man to walk the earth had ever been so wonderful...it was enough to cause a pang as she stole his damn heart. "Well? Are you going to make me do all the work?" he growled.

"What would you like me to do?" Her fingers ran through his hair in a tantalizing caress, with a smile playing on her lips.

"A kiss would be a start," he huffed.

She giggled and brushed a brief kiss. "Is that what you want, my cuddle bear?" The scowl served well, for she brushed his lips again, this time slipping her tongue past in an erotic dance.

Reaching up to capture her face and deepen the kiss, a curse escaped just as she pulled free and he bobbed under water. Dammit, she'd made all memory of needing to swim with his arms flee. Luckily, she treaded well enough to keep herself above water. A small hand pulled his arm as he came up sputtering. Running a hand over his face to wipe off the water revealed the wench laughing!

"Are you alright?" She didn't sound the least bit nervous of the water.

"Get to shore. We need to go home," he growled. Enough humiliation for one day. He headed for shore.

"I think it's sweet that you got so wrapped up in the kiss." Her arms wrapped around his neck from behind in a hug.

A grunt of disagreement replied, and he kept swimming. Her weight didn't slow progress of cutting through the water.

"You can pull us both?" Quiet awe filled her voice.

Well damn, that did well to soothe the embarrassment. "Of course." He loosened her arms and moved so she laid down his back. The arm space gave room for powerful front strokes to cut through the water.

Her carefree laughter through the forest lent more energy to turn onto his back with her draped down his front and speed along. She positively beamed with happiness as she belly laughed at his sudden turns into their own waves.

Lying on the shoreline minutes later, the world felt perfect. He laid with an arm tucked behind his head and her head on his shoulder while the warm water lapped up to his neck, and the stars glittered in the sky to make it a perfect summer night. In the water, there was little hinderance with one leg, and she relied on him. It was like she craved wanting to need him. It finally dawned - his fear of not being needed since the amputation had forced her into a caregiver role. She was a woman strong enough to not need a man, but tonight had brought to light how much she wanted moments of being taken care of - and how little he'd given that lately.

"Can we come again tomorrow?" she asked, breaking into the thoughts. Her fingers traced a light pattern over his chest.

"We can come early in the morning." He stroked her damp locks and stared up at the heavens. "You're so quiet."

"You seemed like your old self tonight. I had so much fun." Sadness tinged her tone.

A deep sigh released. "I'm sorry for these past months. Tonight felt good, like we were equals and I could take care of you again."

She leaned up and looked down. A dark lock fell on her face that he tucked behind her ear. "We're always equals. I loved tonight because you didn't see yourself as an invalid, but as a protector and teacher. I know things are difficult to do, but tonight you were so confident."

Pulling her down to hold tight, he pressed a kiss to her hair. "It feels different in the tribe here, Tanya. There aren't the stares and judgements and worry that you and Charles will suffer socially because of me. It's easier to focus on tasks rather than appearances here. It's easier to see realize you don't see my leg. I notice too that you don't try to hide your breast."

"I think because scars are seen as honorable things here, not reason to be ashamed of a body. I don't worry anymore that I won't be seen as good enough for you."

"Oh, my girl," he sighed, "such hairbrained notions don't even belong in your beautiful head."


The next morning, the beautiful sight of her in the golden sunrise served as a welcome sight as he stepped out of his hut. She set up a pottery wheel. Charles laid on the buffalo skin chewing on dried bread that must soothe his teething pains, as Tanya gave it to him daily this week.

She glanced over, and a becoming blush stained her cheeks.

Dear god, even such an innocent, feminine reaction ignited his blood.

How beautiful and sweet she looked as she sat at the pottery wheel and pumped the petal while the blob of clay refused to take shape. The laborious journey to her on crutches took far too long when every fiber wanted to run over and be in her presence every moment humanly possible. "Good morning."

"Good morning." A shy smile brightened her eyes.

Working down onto the log seat beside her, he kissed her cheek. "You smell good," he whispered in her ear and sat back right when her grandmother came out. "Good morning, Lily."

"Mark. You look fresh and ready for the week."

Clearing his throat, he gave a small shake of his head. There hadn't been a chance to tell Tanya that Tiger had agreed this morning he was well enough to begin wedding preparation in the sweathouse.

Tanya frowned and looked to him. "What's happening this week?"

"Oh dear." Lily gave an apologetic look and hurried away.

"Your grandfather and I agree that, if done in short shifts, the sweathouse can be started today."

"But - "

He shook his head. "The medicinal herbs are coming into season. In the next couple weeks, the journey to the other side of the mountains must be done. After that, the tribe begins hunting in preparation for when the herds migrate. Usually they migrate with them, but the wars have disturbed nomadic patterns too much for the tribe to safely travel. It'll be the first winter staying put, so a great deal of food will have to be stored up. We can have the union ceremony next week. No arguments."

Her gaze dropped to his stump and then rose to his eyes in concern. Her voice came out so soft as she said, "I'd wait for you."

His heart twisted hard at that promise, knowing she'd wait until Hell itself froze over if he asked her to. Taking her hand slippery with clay, he held her eyes. "I know, but I don't want us to wait. I want to be with you and Charles now."

Those brown eyes dipped to his leg again, worry clouding her face. "Don't do something stupid," she pleaded.

Catching her chin with his finger, he tilted her head up to meet her eyes. "I'll quit if the sweathouse is too much. Promise that you'll not wander into the woods or do anything reckless. I'll be in there at least twelve hours a day, so I can't come rescue you."

A soft smile touched her lips. "I won't. Be careful."

He nodded and rested his forehead to hers. "Don't worry about me. We'll be getting married the next time I see you," he whispered, with a smile.