Chapter 12
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania - 1866
Siobhan returned her father's letter to the box, her fingers lingering on the worn edges. Uncle Shamus had likely kept it from her to shield her from further heartache. The second letter lay nestled beside it, its elegant script a stark contrast to her father's rugged hand.
Her joints protested as she rose, the floorboards groaning beneath her feet. Siobhan made her way to the fireplace, sinking into the cushioned chair. Dying embers cast flickering shadows across the room as she unfolded the letter. Her breath caught when she saw the name at the bottom – Little Bird.
January 25, 1862
Mr. Kelly,
I write in hopes of reconnecting with your daughter, Siobhan. I am Camille, once known as Little Bird – the white girl with dark hair who played alongside Siobhan in the Kiowa village. Life has led me to St. Joseph, Missouri, where I've made a home with my husband. Memories of our childhood friendship often surface, and I wonder how Siobhan's path has unfolded. If you would be so kind as to pass this letter to her, I would be most grateful.
Sincerely,
Camille Barlow – Little Bird
Siobhan set the letter aside, closing her eyes. She grasped at fading memories of her father's face, of the Kiowa village. Only once before had she received word from him, when she was fourteen and newly arrived in Pennsylvania. She recalled devouring that letter, each word searing itself into her young mind.
Her father had written of Red Bear and Sweetgrass Woman expecting a child, but it was the news of T'àu éy T'ái's betrothal to Little Bird that had shattered her. For months, she'd nursed a broken heart, clinging to whispered promises made under Nebraska skies.
At twenty-two, Siobhan viewed those childhood vows through a lens of hard-won wisdom. T'àu éy T'ái was a man now, with his own desires and duties. Still, a twinge of envy pricked at her heart. She pushed it aside, genuinely wishing happiness for both Running Buck and Little Bird.
With renewed energy, Siobhan returned to the desk. She pulled out a crisp sheet of paper, dipped the pen, and pondered the name 'Barlow.' What life had Running Buck and Camille built in Missouri? Did they have children? Eager to reconnect with a fragment of her past, Siobhan began to write.