Her heart bursting for joy, Evelyn drew rein. “Dega!” she exclaimed happily, and vaulted down. She ran to him and went to throw her arms around him and then glanced back at the Great Lodge and the figures standing in front of it, and stepped back. “How are you?”
“I fine,” Dega said.
Something in his tone suggested otherwise. Evelyn wanted to take his hand, but his parents might see. “I just talked to your ma and pa. They told me you had gone for a walk.”
“I thinking of you.”
Evelyn grinned in delight. “I can’t stop thinking of you, either. Last night I could hardly sleep, I wanted to be with you so much.” She glanced toward the lodge again and turned her back to it. “Why don’t we walk a little ways? I have an idea you might like.”
Dega fell into step beside her. “It pretty day.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Nansusequa thank Manitoa for pretty days,” Dega said, plainly struggling with his English.
“That’s nice.” Evelyn didn’t understand why he was bringing it up.
“Who whites thank?”
Evelyn’s puzzlement grew. “We’ve talked about this before. What you call Manitoa, whites call God Almighty. Whites give thanks to him for everything.”
“Manitoa and God not same.”
“They are close enough.” Evelyn sidled closer so their shoulders brushed as they walked. “Why talk about that when I want to talk about us? Wouldn’t it be great if we could get away for a spell by ourselves?”
“Get away?”
“Go off alone. Just the two of us.” Evelyn stopped and faced him and looked into his eyes. “What do you say? I’d like for us to go on a picnic. I’ll pack the food so all you have to bring is yourself. We can leave tomorrow, early. I’ll tell my folks that we’ll be back by dark, but if we’re not, well…” She grinned and shrugged.
“What is pic-nic?”
“I just told you. It’s where you take food off into the wilds and eat and talk and things. Wouldn’t you like that? You and me and no one else?”
“Where we go?” Dega asked. “Somewhere in valley?”
“Oh no.” Evelyn lowered her voice as if others could overhear. “This valley is big, sure, but we never know when my brother or Shakespeare or somebody might come along. So I was thinking we should go where no one else would bother us.”
“Where that be?”
Evelyn lowered her voice even more. “Do you remember a while ago when we found a pass up on that mountain to the north?”
“How I forget?” Dega replied. “We meet bad men who try kill us.”
“My pa and my brother took care of them. We’ll be safe if we keep our eyes skinned.” Evelyn touched his hand. “Pa and Uncle Shakespeare were going to close the pass with black powder, but they never got around to it. If we go through to the other side, no one will disturb us.”
“That is far for pic-nic.”
“Maybe so. But it’s worth it for the privacy.” Evelyn touched both his hands. “What do you say? Would you like to go? We can talk and eat and have a lot of fun.”
“I would like talk,” Dega said.
“Then it’s settled.” Impulsively, Evelyn rose onto the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek.
“I must tell Father and Mother. Maybe they not want me go.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” Evelyn asked. “They’ve let us go riding before. Besides, I mentioned it to them and they didn’t say they minded.”
“You tell them we maybe not back by night?”
“It didn’t come up.”
“Not good to keep”—Dega scrunched up his face as he searched for the right word—“secret.”
“It’s not as if we’re lying to them. If anything, we might be fibbing, and a little fibbing never hurt anyone.”
“I not understand. Lie is lie.”
“Do you want to be with me or not?”
“I want you very much, yes.”
“Then quit nit-picking. Be at my pa’s cabin as soon after sunrise as you can. I’ll be ready and waiting.” Evelyn wanted to kiss him again but restrained herself. “It will be wonderful. You and me and no one else. Just as if we were married.”
“Married,” Dega said.
“Don’t look so panicked. It’s not as if I’m proposing.” Evelyn laughed and turned. “You have made me the happiest girl alive.”
“I have?”
“Dega, I feel…” Evelyn stopped and shook her head. “No. I’ll save it for when we’re alone.”
“Save what?”
“We have some serious talking to do.”
“Yes,” Dega said. “We do.”
Evelyn climbed on. “Remember. As early as you can so we make it over the pass by ten or so and have the rest of the day to ourselves.”
“I be early,” Dega promised.
Evelyn used her heels on Buttercup. She barely noticed her surroundings; she was floating on inner clouds of joy. Her plan was working.
Several geese honked, bringing Evelyn out of herself. A hawk was flying over the lake, and its shadow had caused them alarm. “Silly things,” she said to herself. She remembered her father saying that he intended to shoot a goose before the weather turned cold, and her mouth watered. She liked goose and duck meat almost as much as mountain lion, which was her favorite. She’d balked the first time a plate of painter meat was put in front of her, but that first forkful changed her mind. It was delicious.
Smoke was rising from the McNairs’ chimney. Evelyn half expected Shakespeare or Blue Water Woman to hear her horse and come out, but their door stayed closed.
Pale patches high on the cliffs to the west caught her eye. Mountain sheep, she reckoned. She had seen them up close a few times when she was younger and marveled at how they scaled sheer cliffs with the greatest of surefooted ease.
All the horses save hers were in the corral. She stripped off her saddle and draped it over the top rail and made sure to close the gate behind her or her father would have a fit. Whistling to herself, she strolled inside. Her mother was at the counter, chopping carrots. Her father was the table, reading one of his many books. She greeted them while propping her Hawken against the wall.
“Your mother tells me you’d like to go on a picnic tomorrow.”
“It’s all set,” Evelyn said.
Nate King put down the book. “I want you to be careful, little one.”
“I’m not so little anymore,” Evelyn responded. It annoyed her that he couldn’t seem to accept the fact that she was practically a grown woman. She went to the table and sat across from him. “Have you seen sign of any hostiles or beasts I should know about?”
“No. It’s been peaceful.”
Winona looked up from her carrots. “That is what worries him. He is always waiting, as the whites say, for the other shoe to drop.”
“A person can’t be too cautious in the wilderness,” Nate said. “Not if he wants to go on breathing.”
“We’re only going on a picnic,” Evelyn said.
“Tell that to the griz that stumbles across you. Or the war party out to count coup.”
“You killed the last grizzly in our valley,” Evelyn reminded him, “and the hostile tribes mostly leave us be.”
“I had to kill the griz. It was trying to kill me,” Nate said. “And the Blackfoot Confederacy and others leave us
