Snaps Horn rubbed his face with a cold hand. "So I'm supposed to let Elk Charm go?"
"Of course. You weren't meant for her anyway. You're too different. She wants more than you could give her. And that's not a slap in your face. She daydreams too much. You need a woman more practical."
"Oh? Who?"
"Cricket. She's dying of love for you. She's been pacing around the camp staring down the trails practically dying inside. She's always loved you. And you've always been out of her reach."
"Cricket?"
"Yes, Cricket. And here you are out trying to ruin your life and Elk Charm's and Cricket's! If you killed Elk Charm's lover, Cricket would have been miserable."
"But she's just a girl!"
"That's because you've only had eyes for Elk Charm's body. You've blinded yourself."
"What about you? Maybe you're jealous because I want Elk Charm?"
Tanager gave him a level look. "I'm not sure I want to couple with you. For one thing, the elders would whisper about incest. We're too closely related, second cousins. And besides, you couldn't stand me. It's fun to play tricks on each other, but you'd want a wife that was always home with you. You know me. You know what I like to do. Can you see me as a wife?"
He shook his head.
She looked up at the threatening clouds that dropped low. "Listen, we're not going anywhere. I know a place close to here. This storm's going to be bad. Let's go build a fire. I've got some jerked meat in my pack. Enough to hold us. We'll have plenty of time to talk."
She shot to her feet, leading him out of the timber.
Was she right? Would it have been a mistake to kill the Short Buffalo youth? Would Elk Charm have hated him?
Worse, had he been that much of a fool?
"Hope that man of Elk Charm's has enough sense to head for cover," Tanager muttered as she stepped out of the trees.
Snow. Weaving patterns like wraiths of wind, it fell in sheets. Flakes half the size of a woman's hand came tumbling out of the opaque gray of the sky, whirling, piling up on the land, mounding into humps over the tall sagebrush, and capping the rocks like curious giant mushrooms until the caps themselves disappeared—melding with the increasing depth. Where Hungry Bull's group huddled in the shelter, they could hear the patter of flakes on the hide hangings.
"Lot of snow," Three Toes offered, expounding on the obvious. "And it's come so late." He whistled like a mead-owlark, as if that plaintive trilling would somehow bring an end to the monotony of waiting out the storm.
"I hate to be the one to remind you, but the wood situation is getting a little worrisome." Black Crow scratched behind his ear and walked over to pull the hides apart, allowing only a sliver of gray light into the shelter. He craned his neck, he inspected the falling flakes and let the hangings close.
"I'm not up to it," Hungry Bull groaned.
"Lazy!" Rattling Hooves chided from the side. "Makes Fun? Meadowlark? Do we go stumble around and get wet and cold while these tough men shiver and shake?"
"Men do have that frail streak in their constitutions," Makes Fun agreed, a devilish glint in her eye as she studied her husband.
"And we went for it last time." Meadowlark pursed her lips over her sewing while the children argued about something in the back of the shelter. For the moment, they'd snarled themselves in a loud game that involved crawling through the bedding while holding on to each other's legs to create what they called a monster worm.
Meadowlark shook her head. "If that's the only time I have to cover for my lazy man, I suppose it'll be as much a miracle as a white buffalo riding me to the Starweb for a visit." She set her awl and sinew aside, reaching for her sheep-hide coat.
"All right!" Three Toes exploded, leaping to his feet. "We'll go find wood! Maybe that big blown-down fir across the canyon. It's in the middle of the trail anyway."
"Great idea!" Hungry Bull crossed his arms over his chest. "You go hack it in half and give us a call when you're ready to move it."
"How about something a little less ambitious, like a couple of loads of small stuff?" Black Crow suggested, pointing a finger at Three Toes and lifting an eyebrow.
"I'll bet Heavy Beaver doesn't gather any firewood in the middle of snowstorms."
Meadowlark's musical voice chimed, "You can always go live with him. I'd never try and keep you from something like that."
Three Toes finished pulling on his outer moccasins and grinned at Hungry Bull, hooking a thumb back at his wife. "Is that gratitude? After all the years I looked out for that woman, kept her from—"
"Yes?" Meadowlark leaned forward, lips parted, waiting. "You did what?"