Did I test your patience, my father?” Many Horses seemed…

““Did I test your patience, my father?” Many Horses seemed to ponder that question a moment. “I found myself short on patience the time you shot me in the thigh with your first bow and arrow. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t been standing behind you.” Hunter laughed softly. “You weren’t when I let fly with the arrow. If I remember, I turned around to ask you a question.” “Which I never did answer. I always thanked the Great Ones that you were only knee high. If you’d been much taller, your brothers and sister never would have been born.” He sniffed again, then grinned. “Come to think of it, Warrior was even more dangerous with his first rifle. Remember the time he accidentally fired through my lodge and shot a hole in your mother’s cooking pot? She was boiling rabbit. The water hit the fire and filled the place with so much smoke, I nearly choked to death before I got everyone outside to safety.” Hunter threw back his head and roared with laughter. “I remember you pulling that rabbit out of the pot and telling Warrior it was a perfect shot, right through the heart. Except, of course, that it was gutted. And would he practice on live targets from then on?” “Speaking of pits in plum pudding, do you remember your sister’s first attempt? Your grandfather broke off his only remaining tooth trying to eat it.” “And swallowed tooth, pit and all, so he wouldn’t embarrass her in front of Gray Horse, who had come to court her.” Hunter placed a hand over his aching midriff and sighed. “It is good I came, my father. You have the gift. Already my heart is lighter.””

— Catherine Anderson