She told Lone Wolf how well she got on with the other women, and he was pleased with her too. But he never touched her like that day with the cat.
"Little Feather would be your wife," she blurted that evening.
He stopped whetting his knife and looked at her.
"You think so."
"Yes, it is in her eyes." She told him.
"So now you can see what is in the eyes too…I know how she feels."
"You do?" she looked at him puzzled.
"It is in her eyes, as you said." He smiled.
"When I leave, will you take her as your wife?" she smiled.
He hesitated, "Maybe, for she is more suitable than the others."
"She will be a good wife." Hannah smiled, yet something inside her suddenly made her ache. What was wrong?
She went to sleep then, trying to dispel the ache inside her.
When Black Feather first spoke English to her, she was shocked. "You speak English?"
"Yes, I went to mission school too."
"I'm so glad."
"Why?"
"Just to have someone to speak my language is good."
"How do you feel about being Lone Wolf's slave?"
Hannah felt nervous answering truthfully as she could. "He treats me well. He is kind, understanding."
"Do you love him?" she asked.
"I don't know love." She answered. "Love has never been a part of my life. My folks tolerated me, my husband did not."
"But you were married to a white man, weren't you?"
"Yes, but he didn't love me."
"And your parents?"
"Love wasn't there either. It is something I know little of. I cannot judge what I do not know."
Black Feather frowned a moment then smiled at her, "You will. You are much too beautiful not to. Love is when you want to be near someone. You want to be with them, you are pleased with them."
Hannah reached a hand to her.
"Can I tell you something."
"Yes, I will listen."
"I'm afraid to speak my mind to the others yet. I must watch my words, so I don't offend."