Page 34 of Red Hawk's Woman

“What does that word mean?”

“Soka’pii? Good. It means good.”

She glanced over her shoulder as he said the word, and she saw that he made a quick hand motion, out, away from his chest, as though he spoke with his hands as well as his tongue. “Thank you,” she said. “Now about that story.”

He returned the comb to the tangles in her hair, running it slowly through her locks. In due time, he began, “Once, when I was very young⁠—”

“Before or after we met?” She turned slightly toward him.

“After, and I would be greatly honored if you would let me tell the story, perhaps without interruption…”

“All right,” she agreed, then shot a flirtatious little smile at him from over her shoulder.

He caught his breath then dropped the comb. He stared at her for a long moment. As though it took great will, he looked away from her. Clumsily, he picked up the comb, but she could tell that his composure was shaken, for his Adam’s apple bounced as though he couldn’t control it.

Still grinning, Effie spun back around, satisfied for the time being that he appeared to be as affected by her as she was by him.

He cleared his throat and began again. “It is true that I am of the Blackfoot Confederation, but not the Pikunis. My own tribe is the Blood, or as we say it, the Kainan. The Kainan is also a part of the Blackfoot Confederation. My mother and father were visiting friends when I was a baby. I am told I was only weeks old. They were killed.”

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “Is that why you speak of only your grandfather and grandmother?”

“Aa, it is partially so. Also, when I was still fairly young, I was lost from those who had raised me⁠—”

“You mean the Blood Indians?”

“No, the Blackfoot.”

“But I thought⁠—”

“My mother and father were visiting the Blackfoot, and the man I call Grandfather is of that tribe. But later I was lost even from them and was eventually found by the Southern Pikunis. Because my father and mother were already gone, the Pikunis adopted me into their tribe.”

“I see, I think. So you were raised within the Blackfoot Confederation…different tribes within it, but basically by the Blackfoot. And by blood you are also of the Blackfoot Confederation?”

“Soka’pii, that is correct.” He paused as he drew the comb through her hair. Then, quite abruptly, he stopped. “Now it is your turn.”

“My turn?”

“I have a question for you.”

“I will not tell you what I seek in the mountains, if I am even looking for anything. So do not ask me.”

“Aa, I have come to understand this. But that is not what I am hoping to learn—at least not at this moment.”

“Oh?”

“What I would like to ask is: What is archaeology?”

“Archaeology? Well, let me think of the best way to explain it.” Crossing her legs in front of her, Effie leaned forward, placing her arms on her thighs. It was hard to think when his hands were all over the back of her head.

Perhaps she made too much of a simple thing, however, for his graze was hardly sensual. His fingertips were rarely touching her delicate skin now, as though he were carefully avoiding doing so.

Sighing, she hugged her knees.

A thought came out of nowhere. Was this what it would be like to be married? To this man?

A flush stole slowly over her face.

Her thoughts seemed to betray her. More as an attempt to distance herself from the waywardness of her musings, she began to talk. “Well, I suppose you could say that an archaeologist studies man, or rather things that man has made. As such, we don’t really probe into man’s social orders or groups or religions. But rather we look at and examine the things that man has created with his own hands, and mostly those things he made in the past. Once we find these objects, we study them, because from them we can discover many things about how that man lived.”