Fawn’s marker stone would be placed there before they started their jour

ney to Canada.

Soft prayers were said once again after the warriors stepped back from the grave. Then a young girl, of the same age Shoshana had been when she was taken from her mother that day so long ago, stepped up to the grave, her arms filled with a variety of wildflowers.

She slowly sprinkled them on the grave until no fresh dirt, rocks, or brush could be seen.

There was only the loveliness of the flowers, their scent filling the air.

Shoshana stepped away from Storm and went to the small child. She swept her into her arms and hugged her. “Thank you,” she whispered into her ear. “Thank you, child.”

The little girl, with braids hanging almost to the ground, and with the sweetest smile and midnight-dark eyes, hugged Shoshana back, then stepped away and stood with her mother.

Shoshana returned to Storm’s side.

White Moon distributed sprigs of green grass until everyone, even the children, held some in their hands.

Shoshana followed Storm’s lead as he began brushing himself all over with the wisps of grass. The others now joined in this ritual. Everyone then filed past the grave, and at the head everyone placed this grass on the ground, until it formed the shape of a cross.

Again Shoshana stifled a sob behind her hand, took one long, last look at the grave, then joined Storm and everyone else as they walked in a slow procession back to the village. Upon arriving there, they all stood around the tepee which had been Fawn’s.

White Moon lit a torch from the huge outdoor fire, then stepped up to the tepee and set it ablaze. As it burned, everything that had not been buried with Fawn would go up in flames.

They stood silently watching until only ashes remained on the ground where the tepee had stood. And then White Moon again set a huge clump of sagebrush aflame and spread it on the ground before the simmering ashes of the burned lodge.

One by one, everyone disinfected themselves by stepping through the smoke of the sagebrush. Shoshana held Storm’s hand so that they could step through the smoke together.

“And now it is finished,” White Moon said, reaching his hands heavenward. “Our loved one now joins the spirits of those she loved in the sky!”

Everyone disbanded and returned to their day’s normal activities, except for the children. They had been instructed not to laugh as they played, for it would show disrespect to Shoshana, who was in mourning.

She was touched to see the love and consideration everyone showed her. She knew that she was where she belonged, where she should have been all along.

But she was there now, the wife of a beloved Apache chief. And she had had so many special moments with her mother before Fawn gave up her fight to live. Shoshana did feel truly blessed.

She walked with Storm back to their home, and once there, found much food sitting around the fire. The tantalizing aromas made Shoshana realize how hungry she was. She had not eaten since before she had learned of her mother’s death.

But now that the burial was behind her, and she had done everything she could for her mother, she knew she had someone else to be concerned about.

Her child.

She was not eating for only one person now. She was eating for two, and knew that what she ate must be nourishing.

She gazed at the food, then looked over at Storm. “I remember the very first time I went to a funeral. It was for the wife of a cavalryman. After the funeral, everyone went to his home. I was surprised at how soon everyone lost their sad faces and, instead, laughed, joked, and ate,” she murmured. “It seemed wrong, disrespectful of the dead.”

She paused, then said, “Then . . . then . . . When Mother, my adoptive mother, died, and they did the same after burying her, I was enraged. I told everyone how I felt,” she said softly. “George Whaley was so insulted by my behavior, he scolded me and sent me to my room and did not allow me to leave until the next day. I was not brought any food, nor was I even spoken to. The maids were told to leave me be, to let me think about the wrong I had committed, while all along I grew even more angry over how my mother’s death seemed so quickly forgotten by everyone.”

She sighed. “I shall never forget her, nor my true mother,” she murmured.

She turned to Storm and smiled. “I was lucky, you know, to have two mothers who loved me so much, and to have two mothers to love,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. “So many speak nastily of stepmothers. I could never, ever say anything but good about mine.”

“And now you will be an ina yourself,” Storm said, gently pushing a fallen lock of hair back from her brow. “And what a beautiful mother you will be.”

“Both of mine were beautiful,” Shoshana said, sighing. “Both were so beautiful.”

Her stomach growled, breaking through her nostalgia. She giggled as Storm placed a hand on her there. In his eyes was an amused twinkling.

“One day when you touch me there you will feel our child moving within its safe cocoon,” Shoshana murmured, placing her hand over Storm’s. “My adoptive mother could never have children, but her best friend had several. I was enchanted by how this woman’s stomach grew so large during those times. She would allow me to feel the baby’s movements inside her tummy. I was intrigued by how the babe could live inside such a small, cramped place.”

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