Page 94 of The Spirit of the Wolf

Taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips, he kissed her fingers gently and mouthed, “You must remove your dress and petticoats if we are to leave here without notice.”

Again Marietta nodded, and without even a small comment or protest, began to undo the buttons of her dress.

Next, Grey Coyote crept toward Yellow Swan, and with a series of signs, asked her to help Marietta.

But Marietta seemed to have misunderstood, for she reached out for Grey Coyote’s fingers, and bringing them to her lips, she mouthed, “Shouldn’t Yellow Swan also remove her dress?”

Grey Coyote shook his head.

“Why not?” asked Marietta.

Taking up a handful of Yellow Swan’s dress, Grey Coyote made the signs for “buckskin,” “tear,” then “resist.”

Yellow Swan meanwhile had crept toward Marietta, and with two sets of hands working over Marietta’s dress, the chore was soon done. His wife had shed her outer garment, her petticoats and chemise. That it left her sitting in no more than leggings, drawers and corset was becoming to him a common sight.

However, the dress was not cached or thrown away. The dress, the petticoats and chemise were all laid out over the ground. Taking up the ropes that had bound his wife, Grey Coyote tied them to the clothing.

This done, they gradually crept away from the camp. Once out of sight, Grey Coyote ushered the women into a grove of tightly packed willow trees. Here they would hide.

Once more, bringing Marietta’s fingers to his lips, he mouthed, “You are both to stay here while I backtrack, so that I may erase our passage. You are not to do anything or say anything until I return. Do you understand?”

She nodded, and he kissed her again before he turned away.

Sneaking back into the river boat encampment, Grey Coyote took up the weapons he had confiscated earlier, arranging the arsenal into a neat pattern next to Marietta’s dress. If the design gave all the appearance of creating the English word “fools,” so be it.

Noiselessly, Grey Coyote slipped back to the willows, where for a moment, he held his wife in his arms. Then, with one more kiss, they were on their way.

Chapter

Nineteen

On this day, dawn was a spectacular event. The eastern sky was tinted the palest peach, accompanied by the darker shades of silver and blue. Marietta and Grey Coyote were sitting together, arm in arm, reclining behind a stand of bushes. They faced east, gazing with admiration at the sky, land, and a herd of buffalo, which had come to feed over the low ground.

Earlier, Grey Coyote, as well as Yellow Swan, had welcomed in the day with prayer, while Marietta watched them both. Then without a word being said, she dropped to her knees herself to pray, but in her own way.

At present, Yellow Swan had retreated to the low ground to collect roots. As she worked, though she kept within view of the other two for safety’s sake, she was for the moment out of earshot.

Leaning close to Marietta, Grey Coyote said, “I followed you for several hours before coming to rescue you.”

“Did you? Then, why didn’t you…?”

“Understand, I did not act to rescue you, not at first,” he said, “for I thought you might welcome the trip downriver. I know that in your heart is the need to return to your England.”

“Yes, what you say was true,” agreed Marietta, “but if I had gone there without the curse being lifted…”

“I thought perhaps you might consider it was not your problem. Or perhaps, the adventure to return to your home might be more than you could easily resist. I was not going to intervene if this were so, for it is not in my heart to deny you.”

“But—”

“And then,” he continued, “I saw you make the sign for escape, and my spirit took flight, and I…” His voice trembled, and he ceased speaking, his lips caressing her on her forehead instead.

Marietta leaned into him, emotion rolling through her. Had she ever loved him more? “Yes, I wanted to escape. I can never remember desiring anything more, not even returning to…my England.”

Grey Coyote’s arms tightened around her, and she gazed at the soft look in his eyes. “Know this, my husband. I…I…have changed.” She took a deep breath and looked away from him. “I can’t tell you when it happened, or even why. All I know is that when I am with you, I feel alive, as though every bit of me is a living, vital thing, as if the world around me is filled with mystery and enchantment.”

Looking back at him, she scanned his every feature, as though she wished to memorize each one. “I am so in love with you, Grey Coyote. I don’t wish to live without you.”

“Nor I, you,” he replied, and there was a tear in his eye which he did not attempt to deny or explain.