A portable dance floor had been set up nearby, and George had borrowed a sound system from a friend. All of Shani’s family and their children and significant others were gathered, seated on colorful woven blankets on the grass in the little park where the ceremony was being held. Yareli was heavily pregnant with her second child, and Malia sat beside her new fiancé, a really nice guy who worked at the garage with Jacy. Naira, who had been enlisted as the ring bearer, was at the moment running in circles behind the blankets, hopefully releasing some of her boundless child energy.
Chenoa, who had just turned eighteen, had recently discovered a passion for photography. Shani had put her in charge of taking photos, and she had been snapping pictures for the past hour, arranging people in posed groupings and then just milling around taking candid shots. George had stepped in to take several shots of all the girls together. Shani couldn’t wait to see the picture with Nina and she standing arm in arm, the sisters flanking them on either side.
Adam’s parents, whom Shani had met several months before at their winter beach house in Florida, were in attendance as well. They’d been a little stiff when she’d first met them, and had questioned her with disapproving gazes about her “Indian” heritage. But by the end of their four-day visit, his dad had thawed enough to tell rambling stories about his days in the Navy and about Adam’s many sporting accomplishments in middle and high school. Even better, Adam’s mom told Shani in private that she could see Adam loved her and she loved Adam, and that was all a mother ever wanted for her adult child.
The pair looked a little uncomfortable now as they perched in their formal attire on one of the wedding blankets, but they were smiling. Adam’s mother, Shani noted with pleasure, was wearing the silver and turquoise bracelet Shani had made for her.
At a nod from the tribal leader, Jacy got to his feet and corralled Naira. He led her to where Adam and Shani stood, facing the officiator. Naira looked adorable as she made her way solemnly to stand near them, wearing a pretty pink dress with a flouncy skirt, the ring box now clutched in her small hands.
It was Shani’s favorite time of day. The sun was just about to set, and the luminous air turned everything to gold. While Adam and Shani held hands before him, Ben Rainwater talked about traditions of the tribe, the sanctity of Native American marriage and the power of love. “Your spirits are now joined forever, and may they always walk hand-in-hand,” he said finally. “You may exchange your rings and say your vows.”
Jacy, who had remained near his little daughter, bent down and whispered to her. She opened the ring box and held it up to Adam. Smiling down at her, he took out Shani’s ring. She had made knotted wedding rings of rose gold. To the vanilla observer, they looked like traditional love-knot rings. But those in the BDSM community understood the additional symbolism of what were in fact bondage knots.
Adam took Shani’s left hand. His smile was so tender and filled with joy as he slipped the ring onto her finger that Shani’s eyes filled with tears. She took Adam’s larger, heavier ring from her little niece and slid it onto Adam’s long, slender finger, the tears now spilling down her cheeks, her heart nearly bursting with happiness.
Now it was time to say their vows. They’d practiced and memorized the few simple lines beforehand, taken from a traditional Native American ceremony. Shani could see all her family leaning forward on their blankets, eager to hear the words Adam and Shani would exchange. Shani’s heart began to hammer, her mouth going dry. Her mind had suddenly gone blank! She had no idea what they had been going to say. Fear coiled in her gut, panic making a lump rise in her throat.
But Adam, who always seemed to intuit her mood, took both her hands gently in his and fixed her with a steady, calming gaze. “You got this,” he mouthed silently, his lips lifting in a small, encouraging smile.
Then, he began in a loud, clear voice, “Shani, you are my wife. My feet shall run because of you.”
And all at once, she remembered.
“Adam, you are my husband,” she replied, pleased her voice didn’t quaver, though her knees were trembling beneath her gown, “and my feet shall dance because of you.”
Adam’s smile broadened, his green eyes crinkling at the corners. “My heart shall beat because of you.”
Shani’s heart slowed, the lump in her throat dissolving as she smiled back. “My eyes see because of you.”
“My mind thinks because of you,” he finished.
And then, in unison, they said, “And I shall love because of you.”