Turning, she kissed her grandfather on the cheek. “Tell mom and dad that I love them. Kiss Megan and Amy and Rose for me. And hug Keith and Ryan. Tell them I’ll think of them often. And tell Ryan he can have my Mustang.” Her youngest brother, Ryan, had been drooling over her car since the day she drove it home.
Papa Joe shook his head. “Kelsey, are you sure?”
“I can’t leave Reese,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t live without him.”
She kissed her grandfather again and then she darted back through the portal and into Reese’s waiting arms. Home at last.
Epilogue
Kelsey sat in front of her lodge, her month-old daughter Kimi cradled in her arms. When she left the Lakota village thirteen months ago, Kelsey had never expected to see it again. Now, she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
Angie had been thrilled when she learned that Kelsey and Reese had decided to make their home with the Lakota. Kelsey and Angie pitched their lodges close together and often did their chores together. Gathering wood and water or hunting for berries was more enjoyable when there was someone along for company.
As usual, Hantaywee had been waiting for Kelsey and Reese when they arrived. It had been Hantaywee who delivered Kelsey’s baby. Hantaywee who had made the two traditional “sand lizards”, one of which would be used to hold the baby’s umbilical cord. The amulets were fashioned in the shape of a lizard, although they were sometimes made in the shape of a tortoise. Both animals were revered by the Lakota because they were hard to kill, thus their protective powers were enlisted to guard the baby’s cord. When Kelsey asked why Hantaywee had made two amulets, Hantaywee explained that one would be used to hold the cord while the second would be used as a decoy to guard the baby against malevolent spirits.
Hantaywee also made a cradle for the baby. Such things were usually crafted by the father’s sister, but Reese had no kin among the Lakota.
Four days after the baby’s birth, everyone had been invited to a feast for the naming of the baby. Reese and Kelsey had given gifts to Angie and Hehaka Luta and Hantaywee, as well as to several of the widows in the village.
The gift giving had been followed by feasting and then Reese had informed the guests that their daughter would be called Kimimela in honor of his mother. When that was done, Reese gave a horse away.
Kelsey stroked her daughter’s downy cheek. In the time that they had been in the village, Kelsey had grown to love the people and their customs. She spoke the language like a native. And she was happy, happier than she had ever been in her life but, more importantly, her husband was happy.
Of course, there were days when she missed her family and the conveniences of the world she had left behind, but those days grew fewer as the months went by.
In spite of Reese’s protests that he hadn’t been badly hurt, their flight from Grant’s Crossing had nearly cost him his life. They had spent the first night out in the open. They’d had no food, no water and no shelter. She had spent the night at Reese’s side, afraid to close her eyes, afraid that he would die in the night. The next day, they reached a small town where Reese received some rudimentary medical attention rendered by a doctor who was half-drunk. Kelsey would go to her grave convinced that it had been her urgent prayers that had saved her husband’s life. Due to his cracked rib, it had taken weeks before he could move without pain. But he had survived and they had come here, back to those they cared for, back to those who cared for them.
Kelsey smiled when she looked up and saw Reese striding toward her. As always, her heart beat a little faster when he was near. He was every inch a warrior now. Sunlight glinted in his long black hair and caressed the warm copper color of his skin, skin her fingers itched to touch.
Her hungry gaze moved over him. It had been too long since they made love, she thought. Much too long.
One look into her husband’s eyes and she knew he was thinking the same thing, and suddenly she couldn’t wait for nightfall.
Rising, she took her husband’s hand and led him into the shelter of their lodge, and in the warmth of his arms, she found home once again.
About the Author
Madeline Baker started writing simply for the fun of it. Now she is the award-winning author of more than thirty historical romances and one of the most popular writers of Native American romance. She lives in California, where she was born and raised.
The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Madeline Baker
Apache Flame
Hawk’s Woman
Lakota Love Song
Wolf Shadow
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