Kimani stumbles along beside her sister and Mother into the lodge and sits across the fire from her Father and brother Yuma. She studies her father’s face. Time has aged him, leathered skin, dark hair, dark eyes. He wears the headdress of the tribe, with its massive white and black eagle fathers.
“Kimani, this is not how I planned this tribal.” He sighs and accepts a drink from Mitema. Her trembling hands are covered by his as their eyes meet. Kimani knows something is terribly wrong.
“I don’t understand,” she whispers.
“I know, daughter.” He drinks deep and hands the bowl back before continuing. “Nashca and Yuma are children of our bodies, and you are a daughter of our heart. We only want what is best for you.”
“I know that, Ahbe’. I love you both with all of my heart.” Nashca squeezes her trembling hand.
Chief Nashoba sighs deep, “It is with that love in mind that I ask you to hear me out. When the tribal is over, I am returning you to your people. I meant to tell you later, but I didn’t expect Ahote to ask for your hand.”
“Returning me to my people?” She stops speaking for a second and stares at her family. “You are my family!”
Mitema hides her face in her hands, unable to bear the heartbreak she sees reflected in her daughters’ eyes. The Chief continues speaking, afraid to stop or change his mind.
“Ahote’s offer has been refused. War is coming, between the White Man and Indian. The last massacre killed four-hundred Shoshone. We must leave, Kimani. I have accepted a treaty, it offers us protected land up in the North. My prayer is that we will find peace, but you would not be received well. You have seen how our own people treat you.”
“You think the others will treat me any better?” Kimani shouts! They all jump in surprise. “I’m nothing more than trash to them. I will never be accepted by the white men.”
“Not with the River’s family. They have allowed us to remain on the land, working it and even shared in the profits. I spoke to them, and they were happy to offer you a home with them, where you will be safe and protected.”
Harris River’s pops into her mind, but she pushes that thought away. He’s still in love with his dead wife. There’s no future for her with him. When she starts to object the Chief jumps to his feet and walks around the fire. He removes his headdress and hands it to his wife. Kimani stops speaking, afraid of what will happen next.
“How many years have they come to our aid, daughter? Countless. How many years has Harris treated your wounds? I could not protect you from our own people, do you think it will be any different with Ahote’s tribe? Look at your face.” He drops to his knees beside her and takes her face in his hands. For the first time, she feels the trembling in his body.
“I kept you child. Selfishly, I took you. When I found you with the wagon train, I couldn’t leave you.” He glances to his wife and back, “I should have turned you over to the nearest wagon train or town. We rode through the white man’s camp, and all we found was death and disease, but in the midst of that sorrow, a child’s laughter rang out. When I turned, there you were. A baby chasing a butterfly,” his eyes crinkle as he smiles. “You stole my heart that day and every day since, daughter.”
Clearing his throat, he presses a paper into her hand. It is a worn letter, stained and tattered. “When you are ready, this letter will tell you of your people. They called you Vanessa Schmidt. Until then, know that we love you.” He rises slowly and walks to his wife.
“I know this is the right thing to do.”
Tears roll unchecked down her bruised cheek.
“With us, you will always be a target.” He turns back to her, “Ahote means well, but he can’t protect you from what’s coming. I can. I had hoped to give you a good memory to take with you, daughter.”
Kimani sobs into her hands. He wraps an arm around her Mother’s shaking shoulders. “Nashca will take you to your teepee.”
Yuma slips silently from the lodge, leaving the weeping girls together. When her tears slow, she whispers, “He’s wrong, sister. They will never accept me as one of them. Am I forever to be an outcast?”
Nashca doesn’t reply; she simply hugs her close. When they come to her teepee on the edge of the trees, Kimani stops her.
“Nashca, I love you, but I need to be alone. You have a young brave waiting to spend time with you. Go be with your husband to be.”
“I’m sorry, sister.” She hugs her tightly and runs away, leaving Kimani standing outside in the cold night air.
Defeated, she ducks into her teepee and walks slowly to the small fire. Bruised and broken, she drops to her knees and weeps for all the treasured dreams that are now tattered. Clutched in her hand is the letter. Kimani balls it up and throws it across the teepee and sobs harder.
When a blanket is dropped around her shoulders, Kimani pulls it tight, “Thank you,” she sniffs, and her head snaps to the side.
“I told you I would look after you, little butterfly,” Ahote stands beside her and waits for her to say something. Dark narrowed eyes and shining black hair, he looks like a vision.
“What are you doing here?” she gasps.
“I’m claiming my prize,” he pulls her to her feet. Her mouth falls open, and he laughs softly.
“Say, you want to be mine, Kimani. I’m tired of waiting. The white men do not deserve
