Adelaide looked thoughtful. "Your Tykota is magnificent. Perhaps it would be difficult to find anyone who could compare to someone who looks like him, has the power of an Indian chief, and has, more than once, saved your life."
Makinna ducked her head, and when she raised it, her eyes were swimming in tears. "Yes, very difficult. I love him."
Adelaide did not seem to be surprised or repulsed at the thought of her sister loving an Indian. "What woman wouldn't? Look at the man! What other man do you know that is as tall, handsome, and heroic?"
"There is no one like him."
"Well, how does he feel about you?"
"I don't know. He may care for me in his own way, but evidently not enough to commit his heart. He has told me that his tribe comes first with him."
"And you cannot live there with him-no, that would not be acceptable."
"I would have if he'd wanted me," Makinna said in misery. "I would have lived with him in a shack if he'd wanted me to."
Adelaide grasped Makinna's hand and gave her a look of compassion, and Makinna was surprised to find her sister so understanding.
"Did you tell him this?" Adelaide asked.
"No," she admitted.
"Then perhaps you should." Adelaide was thoughtful for a moment, as if she were deciding something. Then she said with feeling, "Makinna, I am married to a man who has given me everything money can buy-a mansion, clothes, carriages, jewels-and yet I would give it all away if Tom would look at me one time the way I saw that Indian look at you.
"You are unhappy, Adelaide! I thought-"
"Makinna," her sister broke in, "I knew that look of desperation and helplessness that I saw in Ty Silverhorn's eyes, because I see it in my own eyes when I stand before a mirror. If there is the slightest chance that your Indian loves you, go to him. Or you will spend the rest of your life like me-cold and unfeeling inside."
"Oh, Adelaide, I am so sorry."
"Listen to me, Makinna. If you don't, you may end up just like me, with only possessions to fill your lonely days-things that others may admire and envy you for, but nothing to touch your heart."
Makinna blinked tears from her eyes. "I am so sorry," she repeated.
Adelaide brushed a tear from Makinna's cheek and smiled. "I did not tell you this to make you pity me. I told you to keep you from making the same mistake."
"The choice is not mine, Adelaide. It was Tykota's, and he has already made that decision."
Her sister hugged her. "Don't be too sure, little sister. It is always darkest before the sunrise."
Makinna smiled. "Look at us. We should be celebrating our reunion , and here we are crying and moaning."
Adelaide said softly, "You are not going to end up like me if I can help it."
Makinna went to the window and pulled the curtain aside. "Even now, I am afraid that Tykota will go away without saying good-bye to me."
"Let us get ready for bed. Tomorrow will be soon enough to talk more and plan." She went to the trunk at the foot of her bed and withdrew a nightgown, which she tossed at Makinna. "You need your rest. You look exhausted."
Soon, wearing a fresh white cotton nightgown, Makinna fell into bed and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, leaving Adelaide to lie awake, worrying about her little sister.
The next morning when Makinna awoke, her sister was gone, but there was a beautiful green cotton gown with white lace on the collar and hem, with matching lacy undergarments and green leather shoes.
When Makinna had dressed, she looked in the large mirror over the washstand, examining the way the soft bustle flowed to the floor behind her. She had never had such a fine gown.
She hurried downstairs, fearing Tykota had left and wanting him to see her in the gown. Entering the dining room, she was relieved to see him sitting at the head of the table, dressed in a white shirt and buff-colored trousers. His hair was tied away from his face, and had it not been for his dark skin, he would have passed for a white man. Mrs. Silverhorn and Adelaide were on either side of him, and they both greeted her happily.
Tykota's gaze ran the length of Makinna, and he glanced back at his plate. His reaction did not escape notice. His mother and Adelaide exchanged knowing looks, as if it was obvious to them that Tykota was tormented by his love for Makinna, and the pity was that Makinna could not see it for herself.
"We let you sleep, my dear," Mrs. Silverhorn told her. "Sit next to me, and Frances will serve you."
"Did you sleep well?" Adelaide asked. "I know I kept you talking half the night." She looked at their hostess. "We had many things to discuss, since we have been separated for five years."