held him so many nights in their wickiup. He saw the love and fear
in Eagle Feather's eyes when they parted so that he could take Nancy and
Woodrow to safety. The pain of being away from them almost made him want
to weep.

"I don't know the answer to that. The trail I follow is dark. I must go
one step at a time."

The chill night air carried a sound to his ears. Off in the distance, on
the bluff south of this hill, a man's low voice spoke a few words, then
another voice answered. He heard a boot crunch on gravel. A door slam.

The hair on the back of his neck lifted.

He raised his head, and his ears felt as if they were opening wider, to
take in everything that came to him. The noises were all faint; no pale
eyes would even have noticed them.

"What is it?" said Nancy.

The sounds seemed to come from the town. Who would be up so long after
midnight?

"Some men talking, a long way off." He listened for the space of a few
breaths. "I don't hear anything now."

Victor, he decided, was making him overly fearful.

Nancy said, "If Redbird does come to live with you, what will become of
you and me?" She took his hand in both of hers, stroking his fingers. "I
love you, Auguste. Now more than ever. Before, my life depended on you.
Now I know that I love you of my own free will."

"And I love you, Nancy."

"But you love Redbird too. More than me."

"Not more than you. In another way. Sometimes I seem to be two people."

"Among the Sauk you could have both me and Redbird as wives. And when I
was a captive, and I thought I might die at any time without ever having
loved you, then I accepted your way. But if Redbird lived here, you and
I would have to be together in secret. And I couldn't live my whole life
that way."

He had known it would hurt like this. This was the very reason he had
tried again and again to renounce Nancy's love.

"I understand," he said, and the words seared his throat.

_But now I would never give up a moment I spent with her, even to escape
this pain._

He ached to put his arms around Nancy and to feel her holding him. But
he made himself sit rigid, fingers digging into his thighs.

Nancy spoke, and he could hear the iron of grief in her voice. "If
Redbird comes here as your wife--I'll leave here. Maybe we'll go back
East. Woodrow and I."

She stopped abruptly, too choked by tears to speak. The fence rail they
were sitting on shook with her sobs.

Something broke inside Auguste, a