How Fox Became Red

Soon, the forest began to open up and they made better time. They weren't in no great hurry, beings as how they didn't rightly know where they was goin' but it was more peaceful when Ket didn't have to be cuttin' his way through the underbrush most all day.

Nightdancer came racing by the wagon, all black legs and mane and tail flying. His white body gleamed in the sunlight as he bucked and kicked at an offendin' bush.

"I was a bit worried about him keepin' up" Ket laughed, as the colt doubled back by them, racing back to his dam. "But I think what with him runnnin' circles all the time, he'll do more travelin' per mile than we do."

"He's pretty tuckered at night," Senta replied. "Niether Night nor Moondapple are big horses, he looks like he's goin' to top them both, the way he's grown."

Ket shrugged. "Night's sire was a bigun. Night was born in a drought year, allus thought that might be why he never growed as big. He's strong though, and smarter than his pappy. His dam was smart too. My luck, most tothers wanted a horse with size, no matter how stupid. Some said his dam was mebbe Panther blessed, she wuz so smart."

Night, hearing his name, trotted up beside the wagon seat. Senta laughed "He's sure 'nuf the right color for it, I'll grant you that. " Nightdancer charged by again, with Moondapple close on his heels. Night took off after them, all three horses tossing their heads in play. Bevin, a shaggy ox-like creature that pulled the wagon shook his horns and broke into a trot.

"Enough, Bevin," Senta said to him. "Don't you wear yourself out with their silliness." The beast slowed back down to his usual shambling gait.

Flighty emerged from the back of the wagon where she had been asleep among a tumble of fox kits and jumped to the seat beside Senta. After a long stretch, she bounded out onto Bevin's broad back and daintly made her way down his harness to the big padded collar. Bevin lifted his nose in the air, sniffing. Hind quarters firmly settled on the collar, she placed her front feet firmly on the mat of hair that grew between his horns. Bevin snorted contendedly as the cat began to rumble.

"That cat seems to jest be along to provide comfort for all the other animals." Senta observed. "Last night she were curled up on Nightdancer, jest as smug as could be."

"Mebbe more Panther in that cat than most," Ket agreed, "though I don't know as I'd exactly allow how smart she is, with all the trouble she causes."

"Tell me a story about Panther, Ket." Senta pleaded. "I never got to hear all the ones you told at the smithy."

The tale begins

Nightwind Talesinger

I don’t speck it’d do much harm to tell the story now. Mostly them in it is dead or far away. I’ll change a few names to pretect the innocent, like they say. The guilty, well, thems gonna have to take their chances. It’s bound to be better odds then they gave them that they hurt.

It was in my grandpappy’s granpappy’s time. He was a tale spinner too, jest like me, jest like my father, jest like his father, goin’ so far back as to make no nevermind. Got it on my mammy’s side too, only different, and that’s mostly what this story is about. That’s why we Nightwinds, we is the way we is.

Well, ol’ grandpappy’s grandpappy, his name were Ket Smith. As you mighta guessed from the name, he were a smithy. He were a good one too, so that when he set his eye on Missy Senta, her daddy were happy to marry his little girl into such rich prospects. What he didn’t know was that Ket had wandering feet. Senta, she had no say in the matter, women didn’t back then. But back then, jest like now, they mostly get their own way, one way ‘tother. Senta, she thought Ket were a fine looking man. And she seen how when he touch a horse, no matter how skittish, it calm right down, like it knowed this man wasn’t goin’ to hurt it, no matter how much ruckus was made.

Senta, she was known as skittish too. What later came to be called a woman of strong mind, and is now known as a fine woman. People bein’ a little more enlightened about such things now. Well, Senta’s ma died when she were young, and she had to be ma to all the rest, including the one her ma died having. So people figured she just got used to having her own way ‘cause she needed to take care of them kids. Fox knows, her daddy wasn’t much use. Baby weren’t expected to live, but a wet nurse come through town, jest travelin’ through she said, but she was persuaded to stay when she seen that little girl, that passle of runny nosed toddlers and that tiny motherless babe. She were a woman of kind heart, and far sight, and I think she knewed jest what might happen iffen she stayed.

I don’t know too much about Hesta, that was the woman’s name. Nobuddy did, ‘less it was Senta, and she never talked much about her. Chirppy as a bird ‘bout other things, but quiet as a rabbit ‘bout Hesta.

Hesta lived in her own little cabin on the edge of the woods. Kept it neat as a pin on the outside, so twas figured it was pretty clean on the inside too, but no one much saw it. Senta did, and a few other women who had babies needed nursing, but very few was allowed in. Mostly she met you at gate, though how she knowed you would be there, any time, any weather was anyone’s guess. Not that most did. Guess I mean. She was a wise woman, along with bein’ a nurse, so’s everyone just figured anything different about her, that’s why.

Senta went back and forth though. She were always allowed in, mebbe ‘cause she was jest a child herself. No one knows why Hesta did what Hesta done. The baby, he didn’t die, he grew strong in Hesta’s care. Even after he was weaned and home with the other youngin’s Senta kept goin’ most every day to the cabin. Jest habit, people thought, if they noticed. Mostly though, they didn’t think about it one bit.

Livin’ on the edge of the forest like that, there was always critters ‘round that cabin. Every stray cat ever passed through ended up at that cabin. Mebbe that woman had a deal with Fox, for no hurt thing that made it to that cabin ever was in danger from any other critter there. People went to Senta with their sick critters, and Senta went to Hesta. Sometimes Senta took the critters themselves to the cabin, but mostly, people weren’t welcome. Nobuddy had to tell them to stay ‘way, they jest knew. You wanted something healing from the old woman, you talk to Senta, or send a child.

Well, Ket, he come into town fresh as a journeyman. Didn’t have much money, didn’t know if he was goin’ to stay long. Something in the west seemed to be pulling him, so he wuz just following that pull, like a lot of young men do. That little bump-in-the-road town was just along his path. He needed money, though, didn’t have much in the way of tools yet, so he figured he’d stay a night or two at least. Do some chores, shoe some horses if there wern’t no smithy in the town.
That cabin weren’t near no road, but it were near lots of forest paths, and Ket come along one of those paths. He seen a woman, standing by a gate, like she were waiting just for him. Ket was jest naturally polite, so’s he tipped his head—didn’t have no hat—and said good mornin’.
That woman jest give him a long look. Then she looked at his horse, a little black so shiny his coat was full of rainbows in the mornin’ sun. He had a proud fine arch to his neck, and no fear atall in his eyes.

"Mornin’" she said finally. "That horse looks like he could use a drink. Mebbe you culd too. Come round the back." And she walked away without lookin’ to see ifin Ket was followin’ her.
Ket looked around that neat yard, full of chickens and dogs, cats and flowers, and followed her right along beside that fence.

The fence only went ‘round the front of the cabin, the back was open to the forest. Hesta had no need to keep the wild things out, only people. The back yard looked much like the front yard, much as the flowers and lots of critters went. But the critters wus different. They was all forest creatures, all mixed together peaceful as the cats and dogs and chickens in the front. Ket saw a fox kit with it’s eyes still closed, nursing on a cat longside it’s kittens and a tiny skunk. The cat jest looked at him with green eyes, and went back to washing the fox kit’s face, with that smug look mamma cats get, when they knowd they have a fine litter.

There was a fine clear stream that bubbled out of a small rise, dappled shadowed by the leaves above. It rippled its way under the edge of the forest, then flowed into a shallow pool. From there, it dropped into a deeper pool, lost somewhere below in the shade of the trees. Ket’s horse dipped his nose into the shallow pool and snorted at it’s coldness. A couple of ducks took offense at this, and swam to the other side, waddling out on it’s sandy edge, still quacking irritably. The horse paid them no nevermind, but sucked in water like it was ambrosia.

The woman didn’t offer Ket no cup, just stood watching him. That was fine with him, he was very thirsty now the sun was full up, and he was out from the forest cool. He just picked up a big leaf, dipped it in the little waterfall comin’ out from the side of the hill, and let that cold, cold water run into his mouth. My! That was the best water he ever tasted! He felt like he might never be hungry again, though just the minute before his stomach had been rubbin’ on his backbone. There was something to that water, he felt peaceful and easy, and for once that pull from the west eased up some. It was still there, but quieter now, like it knowed he was comin’ and would wait for him.

Ket laughed for pure joy, and turned back to the woman. She was sittin’ on the back step now, holding a little bright blue bird. Ket had never seen another like it. It had one wing in a contraption of bound twigs. Broken, he thought.

Without a word, Hesta handed him the bird. It turned one beady eye on him, but only in curiousity, no fear. Without really thinking about it, Ket reached for his knife and carefully, oh so carefully so as not to nick even a feather, snicked through the leather thongs binding the twigs. The splint fell away, and he sat the bright little thing on his hand. It stretched that wing out as far as it could go, then folded it back to it’s side. With a few flicks of it’s beak it groomed the feathers back into perfection, steadied itself on his hand and launched into the air.

It took a few beats for it to remember the rhythm of flying, but only a few. It perched on a branch above their heads, and burst into song.

Ket laughed again in joy, and Hesta joined in. That bird was just spelling a song, a song of how good it was to be alive and free. Those notes were like a net, finer then a spider’s web, settling down over every living thing that heard it.

Ket heard another laugh, silvery like the fall of the crystal stream onto the rocks below. He turned and saw a girl, her head thrown back, watching the bird with every bit of her, every strand of her being. The baby on her hip watched Ket instead, big dark eyes fixed on the face he didn’t know.

The bird suddenly stopped singing, and swooped down to land on Hesta’s shoulder. She stroked it softly with one finger, and it ruffled it’s neck feathers so she could scratch between it’s shoulders better. She could feel it’s tiny bones under warm skin, bones so fine they were like lace. Mended lace now.

The girl sat the baby down, where it toddled towards the mamma cat. An old dog fox jumped up from the shade and cut across the child’s path. Distracted, the child toddled after the bright red coat, that flicked and danced and played just out of reach.

The girl was watching the fox and child romping now, smiling at how cleverly the fox had distracted her little brother. Ket was watching the girl child. Delicate looking, he thought, but not fragile, not if she could tote a heavy little boy like that.

The bird, twittering recognition, flew to her shoulder. It ran it’s beak through her goldfire hair until it pulled loose a single strand, fine as gossamer. Then it flew to Ket’s shoulder, and began running it’s beak through his shadowdark hair. The girl turned to him in surprise, and he thought "Eyes blue as that bird, bluer than the sky."

Senta looked at the tall young man and thought, "Eyes like the green of the leaves, shadowy but peaceful. I’ve never seen eyes that color, didn’t know they could even happen."

The tiny bird had groomed a stray dark hair from Ket’s head now. It flew again to it’s song perch, and laying the bright and dark hairs carefully over the branch, sang again, a different song this time, of peace among the branches, of a nest woven of twigs and strands of bright and dark. Then with a last nod of it’s head, it plucked the hairs from the branch and flew away, light glancing from it’s wings, the gold, the dark, all together.

"Oh!" said the girl, watching him fly. "Oh, goodbye, safe journey."

"I never seen a bird like that before," Ket said, watching the bird disappear into the west.

"Naturally not, " Hesta was watching Ket, not the bird. "Ain’t that kind of bird around here. He’ll be fine now. Bound to be, with the nest he can make. He’ll attract the best little ladybird around. Got a long way to go before he builds that nest though."

Both Ket and Senta looked at her, both suddenly felt she wasn’t talking about the blue bird any more. But what…?

"Senta, this is Ket," Hesta said, though Ket couldn’t remember telling her his name. "Ket here is going to build me that stable I need. Nothing fancy boy," she said to Ket, "jest somethin’ tight to keep out the weather while a creature is mending. A couple of stalls, some perches, some nests, you know the kind of thing I need."

And oddly enough, he did. He knew he’d stay here, now, build her stall. That he would start his life as a full fledged smith here too. That pull at his back now, wasn’t as stong as the pull as that blue-eyed girl child. He’d wait, wait for her to grow, just like whatever was calling him west would wait for him. He was young, not out of his teens yet himself, though a full growed man. He could wait for her to become a woman. That she was his given wife, he had no doubt.

Senta looked into his green shadowy eyes and thought "I could know this man forever, and still not know him any more than I can know the changing woods." That was fine with her. Senta was a girl who liked adventure.

Hesta said "Pick up your little brother, girl. He’s ‘bout worn poor Nix out. I’ll bring out some honeycakes for our breakfast," turned, and went into the cabin.


2

Ket built that stable for Hesta, and she paid him in iron. Where it come from, nobuddy knew, but then, nobuddy knew what she paid him either. It was a might small town, small enough that people knew not to question whut a wise woman done. She might turn agin them and move away, then who’d fix up their ailing critters, help birth babies, and keep the youngin’s strong? For it was a sure and certain thing that fewer mothers died givin’ birth, and more babies lived since Hesta come.

Ket, well, he was jest on of those men who was good at most anything he wanted. He could build as well as he could smith, and was always willin' to turn his hand to anything that needed doing. He built himself a nice snug little cabin right at first. Then as his reputation grew, he built a smithy onto that cabin, and built a nice house, with glass winders that could go up and down. Nobuddy back then seed such a thing. But Ket, he was willing to show how he done it, and soon them as could afford it had them fancy winders.

Smithys are powerful men, and Ket was handsome besides. That darkwing hair and them green eyes had many a girl sighing into their pillows, and a few women too, even them that should have known better. Ket, he’d dance with ‘em, be polite and gentlemanly to all, but he didn’t give one girl any reason to believe herself ill-done by him. He was as comfortable with the men as he was with the ladies, and best of all with the chillin’. After the forge was quiet in the evening, they would gather ‘round, and he’d tell ‘em stories. Mostly known stories, like how Fox got so smart by stealing some of Panther’s wisdom. Or how Panther got his own back at Fox, by making Fox such a bright red as could be seen agin the green fields Fox liked best to hunt in.

Ket was so good at telling stories, purty soon the grownups were coming to listen too. Then Ket would tell stories about the townfolks doin’s, only he’d make them sound all exciting. Like when Tomey Miller fell offen a high place and busted hisself, and his little brother Net run miles and miles home to get help, well, it sounded like a right proper epic tale, with Net bein’ a hero, and Tomey bein’ all brave in spite of the pain, and just knowin’ his little brother was goin’ to bring help. Well, everybuddy knowed Tomey fell off a barn roof he had no business bein’ on, and he screamed and bawled so that little Net got so plumb scared he run home cryin’ to his Mama that Tomey was dead, dead, dead, and it took his Mam takin’ a lash at his backside to calm him down enough to tell her where Tomey was. But Ket’s story was much better listening, and mebbe even kept some small boys from climbing where they shouldn’t. Because mebbe Tomey was a sufferin’ noble, but Ket described that sufferin’ good enuff they wasn’t too sure they wanted to find out ifin they were as noble as Tomey.

And that’s how it went, Ket makin’ even ploughin’ a field sound like poetry, what with birds singin’ and breezes blowin’ from far off places, and a man’s sweat bringin’ up crops for the good of his family.

Senta, when she could get away, sat in the shadows with the other girls. But while they sighed for this handsome man, and wished he would look their way, Senta watched the light in his eyes as he spun his tales. She took note that his eyes sparkled most when he was talkin’ of travel, of things that might be found along a path, unknown as yet. And sometimes she thought of a blue bird, bluer than the sky it flew into, heading west. But she did not sigh as the other girls did.

Senta was fair on becoming a wise woman, people figured. By the time she was showin’ signs of turnin’ into a woman, she was most as good as Hesta at helpin’ at birthin’ babies. She was more willin’ to come out too, Hesta never much liked goin’ among folks. Of course, what folks gave Senta for helping out went to her father, that’s just the way it was done back then. At first, it all went back into helping feed that passle of kids, but after a bit, there was some extra. Senta got more work, and the oldest kids started helping out too. Luck, the next oldest child seemed to never want to leave the smithy. Soon as he was old enuf, he was workin’ the bellows. Ket figured ifin he was goin’ to be around all the time, he might as well make Luck his apprentice. Lots of boys got themselves apprenticed out by age seven, and his pa was willin’ enough. Not that his pa paid much attention to his youngin’s, but having a son already apprenticed to a smithy was a proud thing. Besides, it meant Luck lived in a room at the stables, and his pa didn’t have to pay to feed him no more. Meant a little more in his pocket to spend.

Senta took to bringing dinner to Luck and Ket, ‘cause there weren’t no female to cook for them, and she didn’t think it right they should eat poorly. She knew Luck couldn’t cook a lick. Ket could cook jest fine, but he never let on. ‘Sides, he jest knew plain cookin’, and Senta did pies and cakes besides, now there was money for flour and sugar. When he got paid in apples or other food goods, he passed them along to Senta, and she come back with them all baked up nice and tasty. Folks got so they never thought a thing about Senta goin’ back and forth between the smithy, Hesta and her home. Well, mebbe the other girls looked on a bit jealous, but nobuddy had no call to get nosy about it, since Luck was there the whole time Senta was. Lotsa times some of the littler ones tagged long too.

Senta knowed her pa wasn’t much for workin’ too hard, but he didn’t drink or beat the kids. He just mostly sat on the front porch and dreamed the day away, and gossiped with anybuddy who would talk to him. He was a good-lookin’ man, and he liked to dress to advantage. He liked to think of hisself as a man of some importance, though really he was livin’ offin’ his children’s wages. Folks knew he wasn’t goin’ to ever let go of Senta, though lots of girls her age and even a bit younger was courtin’. He never let no boys court Senta, though lots would have liked to. Senta didn’t seem to mind though, she had enough to do with her days without fendin’ off some young buck.

It was a spring day when Senta and Hesta come out of the woods from gathering herbs. Ket was waitin’ in the back yard, ticklin’ the tummy of the young dog fox what had been a kit when he first come. That green eyed cat was lyin’ nearby, this time sucklin’ a squirrel ‘long with her kittens. She was a natural born mama, and didn’t much care what kind of critter she raised, so long as it minded it’s manners and grew up fine. Sometimes havin’ extra children was good, like when that old dog fox brought her tidbits for sucklin’ his motherless kit. Fox papa’s help raise the babes, so he was just doin’ what came natural for him. Green Eyes had plenty to eat, but she appreciated the gesture jest the same.

Ket looked up and grinned, and Senta felt her heart pound all of a sudden. He had eyes green as that cat, but darker, and full of hidden dreams. She just stood there, with the sweet, spicy scent of herbs surrounding her, looking at him. She wanted to catch that moment, freeze it forever in her mind, keep it like a precious thing. The green eyed cat, the green eyed dark haired man with the red fox now perched on his knee. And she knew, all of a sudden, without thinking about it, that she wasn’t a little girl any more, but a woman. That was in those green eyes too, the way he saw her. He didn’t look at her like she seen some of the town boys lookin’ at their girls, all moony like they were some sort of goddesses. He looked at her like he saw her, inside and out, strong and weak, but beautiful as some wild, growing thing.

She never did forget that moment, her whole life long. Jest thinkin’ of it, she could feel the sun, smell the herbs an’ the spring, see that man before her. All her life.

"Wake up, girl," Hesta said, tugging the basket of herbs away and setting it beside Ket. "You got plenty of time for dreamin’ later. What you don’t got is time for dreamin’ now. It ain’t right, and Ket and me, we got a plan to fix that."

They told her that plan, and she jest sat there in the spring sun, and stared back and forth between them. They had her future all planned, jest the way she wanted it, but she hadn’t known enough to know she wanted it before. Hadn’t really known before that those dreams in Ket’s eyes always included her.

There weren’t no store in that tiny town, jest peddlers passing through. That were enough in the beginin’, but with mama’s livin’ and babies thriving, that town had grown. It was nigh on to needing a store, and that’s jest what Ket and Hesta had planned.

Ket and some of the men folk built a bit on to Senta’s house. Folks was glad to help a gal who’d helped them so many times, and Ket’s stories in the evening made them laugh so hard it hardly seemed like work atall. "Sides, it wuld help the whole town, havin’ a store right there. Make it feel like a real town, not jest some houses huddled together for company and comfort. Most the houses were spread out on homesteads and farms, but still, it was good to have a common place to gather, where even the women folks could come, not like the smithy, which smelled like sweat and iron and horses.

So they built on a big porch, and benches and chairs for sittin’ on. Wagons was sent out to the bigger towns for supplies. Once word got ‘round there was a store there, peddlers were more like to stop and sell to it. Easier than havin’ to find each home. Senta’s pappy was happy as a clam, seemed the whole world come by to see him now. He even liked fillin’ the shelves with things, since Luck, Ket, Senta and the other youngin’s did most the real work. Her pa had a real knack for knowin’ what ladies would want to buy though, that he did. And he took to goin’ on some trips to the big towns, and buyin’ muslin and needles and ribbons, besides just the common foodstuffs everyone needed. And he dressed fine too, and before long, that store was a goin’ thing, and he was the man of importance he always thought he was.

Senta didn’t do so much midwivery as before, but then the ladies was eatin’ better with a store right handy, and herbs to buy and someone to tell ‘em how to use them. Life wasn’t as hard, and babies jest naturally came healthier and easier. Senta still spent time with Hesta, but most days she was in the store. Bein’ built onto the front of the house, she could mind the little ones and cook and still tend store, with a little help from her pa.

It seemed jest like Luck had a knack for smithing, little Kita had a knack for learnin’. Kita had took to following Senta to Hesta’s, and pestering and pestering, asking questions ‘bout everything. Hesta liked the child well enough, but she couldn’t be answering questions all the live-long day. Senta jest mostly watched and learned, and only asked questions when needed. Seemed like Kita needed a different kind of learnin’.

Hesta knew of a widder woman, jest wastin’ away fer lonliness after an accident took her husband and son. All the herbs in the world weren’t goin’ to heal that woman’s heart. She come from a good home back East, and could read and write and figure. She’d taught all that to her boy, but it weren’t doin’ him no good in his grave. So one day, she sent little Kita down the road with the widder’s herbs. It was a long walk for such a little girl, but it was a nice day, and she was a biddable child when she weren’t demanding answers. Of course, the widder had to invite her in and give her a cool drink before she sent the child back on that dusty long road. Kita sat and swung her legs and stared at all the books. She’d never seen more than three books in a row before, and of course she had to ask why the widder had so many. And then when the widder explained they all had different kinds of learning inside, Kita was so excited she wanted the widder to tell her what all the books said at once. That made the widder laugh, and she hadn’t laughed since her menfolk had died. The sound startled her, and made her feel good too, like mebbe she hadn’t died with them.

The widder was surprised that Kita knowed her letters, but Senta had taught her them. Kita knew some of her numbers too, she could count to ten and add up to that much too. Couldn’t quite grasp how to subtract them yet, but she knew she would figger it out as soon as Senta had time to teach her, and she told the widder that. That made the widder laugh too, for some reason.

Kita had golden hair like corn silk, but she had big brown eyes, jest like the widder’s husband’s had been, jest as soft a brown as her son’s eyes had been. All the herbs in the world couldn’t heal that woman’s heart, but Kita’s brown eyes and thirsty mind made it feel a little lighter. It weren’t long before the widder had an old goat cart fixed up, and Kita was goin’ back and forth every day, and asking all the questions she wanted.

Hesta was gatherin’ herbs in a meadow longside the widder’s house one warm day. The goat was tethered so it could graze on the tender grass and not the widder’s flowers. Hesta went over and rubbed it’s head, she knew it well, having raised it from a kid an’ sold it to the widder herself. Laughter floated out from the open winder, a young girls and a older woman’s richer laugh. Hesta smiled and fed the goat a tasty weed, she knowed she wern’t goin’ to be sendin’ any more solace herbs to that widder no more.

Onct the store was open, Kita took to it like a duck took to water. Jest sort of her natural element it seemed. But the widder woman missed her something terrible, so when a family grew too big fer their house, the widder traded them for their little house in town. With all those mouths to feed, they never could have afforded such a nice big house, but the father and oldest boys come and did chores and fixin’ for the widder, and she considered it a good bargain. And when Kita come out on the big porch to learn her lessons, other children began to gather too. Some of the more curious minded older folk come too. Purty soon the store was sellin’ slates and pencils too. That little town didn’t have no school, but it had teachers, as more and more folk came to learn and share what knowin’ they did have.

When the weather began to cool and turn rainy, it jest seemed natural to close off some of that big, wrap around porch, and put a little wood stove in there, so people could keep on comin’ to learn and chat.

One trip, Senta’s pa come back with a surprise, a young widder woman for a bride. She weren’t that much older than Senta herself, but then Senta was older now than her pa had been when he fathered her. Her new step ma didn’t seem to mind the younger chillen’ after all, they wasn’t really underfoot any more, and Senta had brought them up to have manners. She made it clear though, that the house was her’s to run as she wished, and she didn’t fancy havin’ no grown-up daughter at home.

Hesta jest smiled at the news, but Ket laughed out loud. Senta kept quiet and respectful, and let the new wife have her way, but she kept her head down to hide her smile.

Ket let the situation simmer for three weeks, then went and put his question to Senta’s pa. Folks were plenty surprised to hear Senta was bound to Ket, but most figgered it out plumb quick on meeting her new ma.

T’wasn’t anuther three weeks afore Senta and Ket was standing on the big porch, handbound and getin’ the blessing of the town. Senta’s pa wore a fine suit, and his new wife a new fancy dress and a pleased simper. She thought Senta looked mighty plain in that simple leaf green dress, but she was the only one. The sun brought out all the fire in Senta’s long silky hair, and love lit her blue eyes brighter than the sky, bluer than a bird that once flew away in that sky. Hesta had twined sweet smelling blue vine flowers in her hair, and many a person would remember their fragrance when they thought of that day, and many a girl would bind her wedding wreath with blue vine in days to come.

Ket was in green too, but a deeper green, the blue green of leaf shade. There were no secrets in his eyes that day, no hidden dreams. Just the happiness of a man who had his dreams within the circle of his arm, the joy of a man who could share those dreams now with one who would understand without even his telling her of them.

Luck pulled up in the cart, all filled with sweet grass and flowers. Even the cart horse had flowers wreathed through his mane and tail, his white feathers flowed like silk and his hooves gleamed. Luck’s gift to his sister and his friend. Tucked beneath the flowers and sweetgrass were soft blankets, in this fine weather it was all the bower the newlyweds would need.

"Let the stars be their canopy" Luck thought, and smiled at a plump rosy girl in the crowd. "Us next," he thought at her, and she smiled in return, as though he had spoken out loud, just to her. No one knew it yet, but Ket had made him partner in the smithy just this morning. No need for Luck to be a journeyman now, and he could marry the girl he had fallen in love with when he was twelve with no more waiting.

He jumped down from the seat and handed his sister up, giving her a quick kiss on the soft cheek on the way. He had worked beside Ket for long years now, and had no doubt of her happiness. She looked down into his eyes for a long moment, questioning. He gave a brief nod, and her smile was radiant with love, for him this time. She looked through the crowd and tossed her wedding wreath directly to the girl with the rosy cheeks. Luck laughed, and disappeared in that direction. Ket gave a soft chirp and flick of the reins, and drove off, harness bells tinkling, flowers strewing behind the cart like blue snowflakes.

The couple didn’t go far though, soon they turned down a dirt path towards the forest. They left the cart and horse beside a shady stream, and Hesta was at the back step, waiting for them. There, beneath the trees where they first met, they pledged their love to each other, and drank their wedding toast of crystal water from the same wooden cup. Hesta took the cup from them and wrapped it in green leaves.

Ket took Senta’s hand again, only this time there was a small, hard object between their palms. It was wrapped in green silk, the color of her dress.

"Open it," Ket said. Gently, as if folding the petals of a flower back, she unwrapped the silk. A small golden circlet lay in her palm. Tiny leaves ringed it, leaves as small as the most tender offerings of spring. Though made of gold, they reflected the green of silk, of the trees, of the eyes of the man who loved her. He did not need to tell her the maker of the ring, she knew his touch, although she had never seen it so delicate, or in fine metal.

Hesta came to her then, with a firegold chain. She hung the circlet on it, then placed it around Senta’s white throat. When her fingers came away, the chain was complete, no fastening, no break, nor any sign of mending.

Somewhere, deep in the forest, a bird sang. At it’s first note, all the other birds became silent, as if they too, listened. It was a wild song, but also full of peace, of contentment, like the song of water, now rippling fast, now a deep quiet pool. For some minutes after the song ceased, they continued to look into the forest, into the west.

In a week, the couple returned to the cabin. The yard was strangely empty, only Green-eyes greeted them, alone. Her latest young were raised and gone on to their own lives. Hesta was not at the gate, or the back step. Senta opened the back door, turned and held out her hand to Ket. He hesitated, in all the years he had never been inside the cabin.

"Come," Senta said. "It’s ours now." She reached for his hand, and pulled him inside. In the middle of a rough kitchen table, wrapped in leaves still green, stood the wooden cup. Hesta was gone, as they had known she would be.

"Yes," he agreed quietly, "it’s ours now." And he reached out a trembling hand to touch the bright blue feather that rested beside the leaf wrapped cup.

3

It was Luck who brought his bride home to the fine house beside the smithy. Ket and Senta stayed on in the cabin, and the yard slowly filled with cats and dogs and wildings. Only now the front yard filled with children too, Senta’s younger brothers and sister and their friends. In the spring, Luck brought his wife and his rosy cheeked baby son. Gilley, he called her, after the flowers that were the color of her cheeks, although that was not her given name. Gill, he named his son, and that was his given name.

Ket came home at the end of the day, trailed by the dog fox who had followed him home the day they had planned the store, and who had followed him most times ever since. Some days he stopped where he was and yipped. Then Night, the black horse, would stop, plant his feet and refuse to go any further. Young Nip would run and take a mighty bound. Ket would pluck him out of the air and set the fox in front of him. Panting happily, Nip would give another short yap, and Night would continue on as though he had never stopped.

That’s how they came that evening, with Nip in the saddle and Night prancing, happy to be home to his hay and sweet grain. Senta was not waiting at the gate, as she usually was. He took Night around to the back, where Nip sailed out of the saddle. Ears perked, he headed into the forest. He and Senta figured there was a vixen in there that only Nip could hear. But he didn’t think of Nip tonight, something was wrong, he could feel it. Senta wasn’t on the back step either. Ket could not remember a time when she hadn’t been there to greet him, he swung out of the saddle and let Night go into the stall fully saddled.

"Senta!" he yelled, or tried to. But fear made his voice come out too quiet. The back door flung back with a loud enough bang though. Senta was there, at the table, her eyes huge and dark and afraid.

"It’s Luck," she said. "There’s been an accident." And her voice shook with fear.

"No, no, " he rushed to hold her, "I just left the forge, he was fine, just closing down for the night, that’s all. He wanted to get home to Gilley." Gilley was heavy with their second child, and Luck wanted her in his sight as much as possible.

"After you left," she said, her voice hollow, as though it had to come from a long way away. "Gill came into the forge. I don’t know how, he can barely walk. But there he was, and he lost his balance and…" her voice died out, faded back to that distant place. Her eyes were watching in that distant place too. Suddenly she bolted straight up with a scream.

"Gilley! It’s too soon, too soon, no, no, no!"

Ket grabbed her, threw her cloak around her and whistled for Night. The horse came from the stable still nodding, chewing his grain, but dancing at the fear in Ket’s voice. It was almost dark now, but Ket tossed Senta into the saddle. "Go," he said partly to her, partly to the horse. "Go to the forge, Night. Senta, it’s not too late, go, I’ll follow quick as I can." But he was talking to echoing hoofbeats by the time he finished the sentence.

He heard a frantic neighing from the stable and rushed to comfort the dapple grey that was Senta’s. She quieted a bit under his touch, but still moved restlessly, wanting to be gone into the night, after her mistress, after her mate.

Ket felt the same way. He threw open the stall door and in one swift movement was on her back. She wore no tack, no saddle, but neither man or horse cared. They knew where they were going, and like a moonbeam on the rampage, she thundered out of the yard and into the dark.

The smithy looked like a scene from a churchman’s hell. Flames were shooting out the door, black sillouettes were running back and forth. He heard a horse scream from the stables, but knew it was safe enough, he had built the stables far away enough just for this reason. The house too.

But when he rounded the smithy for a moment he thought that somehow the house too had caught afire. The horse screamed again, and pounded out of the night, a flying scrap of darkness against the brightly lit windows of the house. Dapple gave a shrill neigh in response, and the world shifted back to reality for Ket. He slid off Moondapple at the same time Night plunged up to her, shaking his mane and pushing her away from the flaming smithy. A horse could be a fool and run into the flames sometimes, but neither of these creatures were foolish. Their people were in the house, they would wait for them to come out. The screaming from the house made their skin twitch uneasily, but still they stood, waiting.

If Ket thought the smithy looked like the fires of hell, inside the house sounded like the screams of tortured souls. Luck was sittin’ beside the table, holdin’ a little bundle of rags. He was all hunched over and makin’ an awful keening sound that Ket had never heard from any human throat, only an animal adyin’ of pain. There was a black stick, stickin’ out from that bundle, and Ket wondered why Luck was holding a charred stick, ‘till it hit him what he was really lookin’ at. Then he wanted to run outside and throw up, wanted to run away from that house of keenin’ and screaming, and all the horrors. But he knew Senta was here, and though he knew his wife to be a brave woman, he had never until this minute knew jest how brave.

As though she heard him call her name, Senta come flyin’ down the stairway, redgold hair undone and like a flag of fire behind her. Kita come right behind her, holding white cloths.

Senta stopped sudden in front of Luck. "Luck," she snapped, and Ket looked at her in surprise. He’d never heard her use that tone of voice ever. "Luck, you quit that noise now. Give Gill to Kita and get you upstairs to your wife. She needs you now moren’ that baby boy does." Luck just stared up at her, like he couldn’t understand a word she was sayin, but he stopped his wailing. Kita stepped forward and lifted that sad little bundle from him, and he let it go.

"Luck Smith," Senta’s voice was like a whip crack, "You got a livin’ wife up there with a livin’ baby girl inside her, and you need to help them now. Kita give her a potion to calm her, but she’s half out of her mind with fear. I can’t reach her, but you can. You gotta, ifin you gonna save your wife and your daughter. Now go on." She tugged her brother to his feet and shoved him towards the stairs. He took the first few steps like a sleep walker, but then Gilley screamed again, and this time he could hear his name. He went up the rest of those steps without barely touchin’ ‘em.

Senta whirled on Ket. "I need water from the spring," she said. "’Nuf to fill that hip tub. Jest as soon as you can get it here. Grow wings and fly ifin you have to."

Ket was back out the door into the night before her last words were heard. He ran to the smithy where the wagons was still bringin’ in water to dump on the fire.

"I need your wagon, Stillim," he said, grabbing a young man by the arm. His wife looked up from handing buckets of water from out the wagon.

"Smithy’s burning," Stillim said, like if Ket didn’t know, like he wasn’t chokin’ on smoke an’ ash right that second.

"He knows that, you fool," his squat square wife snapped. "What needs, Ket?"

"Water, water from the creek at home. Senta says." He said the last like it explained everything, and perhaps to the woman, it did. Enough anyway, that she turned and started barking orders into the crowd. Buckets, tubs, leather hides and blankets to cover them piled into the cart. Ket was on Night now, the black dancing and snorting, ready to run. Mika, strong as any man, shoved Stillim over on the seat and grabbed the reins. Her face was black with soot and streaked with sweat and never comely on the best of days, but Ket found her beautiful then.

He turned Night and bolted down the road, the wagon thundering and clattering behind him. Other’s rode too, them with strong backs and fast horses.

Moondapple screamed once after her departing mate, but Night never broke stride, jest leaped forward like a race horse. The mare tossed her head and snorted, but she stayed put. Her person was in that house, that fearsome house, and her place was here until Senta come out. The fire from the smithy was nearly out now, but the glowing embers turned her white mane red in the dying light.

It was a wild ride, and them that was on it never forgot it. Sumbuddy thunk to put torches on the back of the wagon and their fire streamed out into the night. Tomey Miller was there, no longer a foolish boy, and his little brother Net, flying along fearless on his little sorrel mare. Most the town had been workin’ to put out the smithy fire, and them as had fast horses saddled had all come along. Tinka Trader rode full out with them, though there were hell to be paid when her da found out later she’d took his finest horse, riding full out in the night on a dirt track, to say nothin’ of how unladylike it was. But not one of them on that crazy ride thought of consequences, or anything but that the Smiths needed help. Not one of them but had been helped in some way tother by that family.

The horses too, run like they know’d what was needed, better than the humans perched on their backs. And mebbe they did, for sure not one stumbled or fell, though the torchlight swinging on the back of the cart made the shadows flicker and run in a way that most times would have set them horses shying in terror. There was terror enuf in that night, but the horses were not part of it, and they know’d it.

To Ket it seemed a lifetime until he were racing in his back yard, but it were hardly any real time at all. Them people piled off them horses, grabbed buckets and lined up at along the stream. Nobuddy asked why this stream, and not one closer to town, nobuddy even thought of it. They jest dipped and pulled, dipped and passed, until all the buckets and tubs were full. Then Mika and Tinka dropped the leathers and blankets over them all, wedged so none could fall over and spill, and precious little could splash out. Stillim turned the wagon as they done this, and headed back up the track, fast as the horses could pull the now heavy wagon. But Stillim’s wagon was well sprung and well tended, and his horses even better. Even on that rough track, runnin’ fast as they could pull, that wagon barely jostled. Mebbe Fox, or even Panther was abroad that night, and kept that wagon smooth, and those horses strong.

By the time they reached the smithy, just embers glowed. Most the light come from lanterns and torches that folk carried. Hands reached out for those buckets, and a chain formed right up to the Smith’s door. Inside, Senta’s youngest brother’s Meech and Sed poured water into the hip tub. Ket took his place by the door, and the tub was soon full up near to the top.

Kita swung a clean bit of muslin between two chairs on either side of the tub, so the cloth dipped into the water. Senta was busy at the table, doin’ what, Ket couldn’t see. There weren’t no screamin’ from Gilley no more, just a moan comin’ regular, and a soft murmmer that was Luck, talkin’ to her, talkin’ to the baby inside her tryin’ to be born. The widder woman come downstairs then, walkin’ soft, took something heatin’ beside the fire off and went back up stairs with it. Ket stepped up beside Senta, and his breath caught in his throat.

Senta had unwrapped baby Gill, and he lay still on the white cloth. Only, one side of the cloth weren’t white no more, it was smudged black by the char of what was left of his little hand. Angry red and white blisters ran up his arm and onto his fat little cheeks, which flamed red as if he was burning with fever, and not beyond all that now.

Senta was working over the baby, spreading a green paste around his burns and over the rest of his once sturdy little body. Ket couldn’t imagine why, but he’d never had to deal with a dead baby before, and Senta always knew what she was doing.

"Kita," Senta said, and Kita come to the table. Ket stepped out of her way, wanting to look away but somehow not able. She slid her hands under the child’s neck, under his little backside and lifted.

Gill sucked in a deep breath and let out a cry like a hurt kitten. Kita stepped forward and waved some smoking herb under his nose, and he lay back like one dead. Ket couldn’t even see that small chest rise and fall, but he knew he had heard that small cry.

Senta stood on one side of the tub, and Kita the other, they joined hands under the baby and slowly, slowly lowered him into the cool water until his body rested on the sling. Kita held his head out of the water, while Senta carefully scooped the clear spring water over his scorched cheek. It was like the cool water was washing away the heat, the glaring red soothed down to a slpotchy mottled rose. Senta got another cloth and tucked it under his head so his burned cheek was mostly in the water. She set the covered pot with the smoking herb next to Kita, who sat in one of the chairs, never taking her eyes off the baby for a second. The little feet and one chubby hand floated free in the water. The other arm ended in a blackened claw, and Ket kept his eyes away from that. Still as that child was, he could now see the faintest of ripples on the water, where Gill’s breath came in and out.

Above, Gilley screamed once again. The widder appeared on the stairs, said "Senta." Senta grabbed another smoking pot and disappeared up the stairs.

Another scream cut the air, and Ket heard Luck cry out "Gilley, Gilley!" and a moment later a new sound, the sound of a baby crying for the very first time. Ket felt no shame at the hot tears sliding down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. Kita raised her eyes from the baby in the water for just a second and flashed him a smile so brilliant it was like the sun come out from behind the deepest thunderhead. Her eyes went back to the baby, but the smile still glowed.

Senta come down the stairs then, leading Luck by the hand, jest like when he were a little ‘un, learning to walk. The widder come down behind, holding another little white bundle, but this one squirmed and made soft little noises. Senta settled Luck in the big rocking chair that Gilley usually rocked baby Gill in, and gently handed him his daughter. She tucked back the corner of the cloth, so the baby’s pink little face shone out.

"You hold your daughter, Luck, " Senta told him. "We gotta get Gilley settle more comfortably."

Luck looked up at her, saying nothing, asking with his eyes, afraid to ask out loud, afraid to hear the wrong answer.

"Gilley’s fine, Luck," Senta said. "Jest plumb wore out, coming before her time quite due, and all the ruckus. Reckon it just scared that baby out of her early. But she’ll be fine, and you have a fine lively daughter too."

She watched that sink in, then said gently, "You still have a son, too, Luck. Spirit willing, I think he’ll make it. He’s a strong boy, with a strong life in him, just like you, just like his mama." She took the baby from him, and nodded towards the tub.

Luck stood, wobbling a little, looked down at the peaceful face floating in the water. He didn’t seem to even take in the blackened stump, just looked and looked at that little boy face, at the little chest barely moving in and out. But his father’s eyes saw better than Ket’s and he knew his boy still lived. With a slight sigh, he crumpled to the floor.

"Panther’s mercy," Senta exclaimed, "The women do all the work, and he takes a rest!" But there was only love and pride in her voice as she looked at her younger brother. "Get him up, Ket, it’s his wife needs comfort more’n him." She stepped over Lucky’s sprawled body and kissed Ket suddenly, full on the lips. She moved past him before he could react, stuck her head out the door and said, "Meech, Sed, get in here and mind your little niece until her daddy can."

In spite of her ordeal, the news that her son still lived proved a powerful restorer to Gilley. Two days after the babe’s birth, she was sitting in the kitchen rocker, nursing her daughter and keepin’ a close eye on her son. Not that there was much to see, Senta making sure he didn’t wake more than to take some broth. But seeing that face she thought lost forever seemed to pull some sort of power into her that she never had before. Luck, watching her thought, forged iron. She been through the fire and come out stronger than before. He’d been a good looking boy, and a well built man, but something more entered into him too. Just as a woman’s love makes her beautiful, so does a man’s love make him handsome. Luck felt he had more to love than most folk, in spite of little Gill’s lost hand.

The smithy weren’t burnt as bad as it had looked, that terrible night. Fires aren’t uncommon in smithy’s where a ructious hoof could kick over a hot forge, and Ket had built for that. Solid logs do not burn well, so the doors were gone, benches and inside furniture had burned, but only the door wall was seriously damaged. The smithy was repaired within a week, but with a new addition. A fine iron grill could be swung across the door now, so no toddler could stumble in, but it didn’t cut off the breeze either. Folk thought it such a good idea, they had Ket making all sorts of protective grills, some pretty fancy too.

The weather turned unseasonably warm, as if to co-operate with little Gill’s recovery. One morning Gilley watched sadly as Stillim Carter drove carefully away. In the back, guarded by Senta, Kita, and Mika, Gill swung in his water sling, sound asleep. She knew it was for the best, and only for the time being, but still, it was hard to be seperated from a child she thought she had lost once already. She could visit little Gill jest as soon as she was strong enough. She looked down into her child’s tiny rosebud face and thought, soon. Soon we will be strong and visit your brother.

Ket and Luck had built a little side suice offen the little water fall that come out of the side of the hill, figuring the water there was purest. It dropped down, warmed a bit in the sun, and run into a tub where little Gill hung suspended. The overflow run down out another trough, and into a small pond Meech and Sed had grubbed out, to raise their orphaned ducks on. Weren’t no reason that them ducks couldn’t swim on either of the normal ponds, but the boys jest couldn’t resist making use of that run off water to play in somehow. Their pond were much more in the sun, and warmer to paddle in. Senta, coming out to an unexpected mud hole one morning, sighed, then motioned the boys over. Pretty soon she had them boys haulin’ the flatest creek rocks they could find to put around the edge of that pond. And later, she planted water grass and marshflowers, and it was the prettiest little spot you ever did see.

There were a comfortable rocker ‘side the tub where Gill lay, and in the morning after the first chill were off, they brung him out and put him in that stream. Jest about everybuddy took a shift watchin’ to see Gill didn’t somehow twist off into the water, but at first, Senta jest kept him sleeping. There was something in that spring water, as she well knew, but the water of the living spring were even more powerful. Before his mama even could come to visit, all that angry red had most disappeared, and some of them blisters too.

Gilley came out, riding in a fine new carriage Stillim Carter designed and built, but with springs and catchings that her own Luck and Ket had forged. Mika sat beside her, proud of her Stillim’s skill, and of her own part in the design, though she never mentioned that. Mika even had a new dress on, one Gilley had suggested the design of, Mika knowin’ more about buggies and carts than dresses. Stillim glanced back at her, every little bit. He’d taken a bit of guff from the other boys, when he had fetched Mika as a bride. It was true she was homely, and built like a brick, but in those nights on the porch, learnin’ from the widder lady, she were the only girl who could turn numbers into things he could see in his mind. She were a bit bossy, true, but sweet as pie in private, and he knew plenty pretty young wives who was just the opposite. Looking at her ridin’ proud beside pretty Missus Gilley, he thunk he got the better of that deal no matter how much teasing he took. After all, he weren’t that much to look at either. Stillim was a weedy looking boy, who grew into a weedy lookin’ man, like a plant shot up too fast to be strong. Young as he was, his hairline was sneakin’ toward the back of his head at a rapid pace.

Gilley liked both the Carters and was glad and proud for them in this new carriage. It run along smooth as silk on this rough track, she barely got jounced when a wheel run over a rock or dipped suddenly into a pit. And she was grateful, for she knew they had hurried this carriage along, so she could some see her baby son.

When Gilley looked down into the crystal clear spring water her son was cradled in, her heart almost broke. He had been such a robust toddler, walking early, even beginnin’ to make some sounds that had might have meanin’ soon.

He’d lost the roses from his cheeks, and the roundness. His hair, darkling gold like his daddy’s clung to his forehead in tight wet curls. But his lost hand, the one she had dreaded seeing like a black claw, instead there were pink flesh at the end of the stub. The skin above still looked cracked and raw, but she could see that it will heal into a clean stump some day.

"Sit," Senta said, pushing her into the rocker. "All we do is make sure his head don’t go under water. Tea sister?" At Gilley’s silent nod, Mika headed into the cabin with Senta. While the tea brewed, both women watched out the back winder, as Gilley sat and stared at her son.

"I seen some burns," Mika said softly. "None so bad as that, and none on such a small’un. But I never seed nothin’ heal like that either." She looked down for a moment. "Afore we moved here, we lived in Kitown, it had a wise woman who was reckoned to be purty good. She couldn’t have done nothing like this, though." She looked back up at Senta. "It ain’t just the spring though, is it. I kin feel it, like when a buggy design comes together. It’s the spring, but it’s you, and Ket too, and all that learnin’ Hesta gave you."

She looked out at Gilley again, her eyes wet. "When we furst come, I was too shy to speak to no one. Some of ‘em throwed rocks and yelled ‘Ugly as a toad, toad face ugly’ when they seed me. Gilley, so pretty, no one ever throwed rocks at her. But she caught them boys at it one day, and she throwed rocks at them! Hit ‘em too, she got a strong arm for a soft lookin’ girl. Then she told Luck, and I never had no bit of trouble again. She means a lot to me, Senta, more mebbe than a real sister would."

"It’s her love that will save Gill," Senta told Mika, "her’s and Luck’s. Some folk, they care that their youngin’ be perfect, pretty, have all their parts. Gilley and Luck, they already know Gill’s perfect. So don’t you be worrin’ about Gilley, Mika girl." She grinned down at the shorter girl. "Well, I know Gilley feels the same about you, so iffin you be heart-sisters, guess that makes you my sister too! Grab those cups, sister, and we will have us some fine chatter!"

They did too. Gilley got so caught up in telling them every little detail of her new baby’s life, she fergot for a bit her heart was breaking. She took her eyes off Gill just for one second, and when she looked back down, his eyes were open, clear blue. "Mama," he said.

That was the end of the quiet time for Senta. Oncet Gill woke up properly, he didn’t want to lay still all the time in the sling. She noticed he still kept his left side, the burned one under water mostly, but he kicked and flailed with his feet and right arm. Seemed like his little brain had kept right on developin’ all that time he’d been sleepin’, ‘cause he could say Mama and Papa. Afore long he could say Ta for Senta, Ika for Mika, but Ket, Ket he could aways say.

Gill healed quickly, except for losing that hand he’d been pretty lucky. His face healed completely, his side and arm were scarred for life, but that weren’t no matter.

Gilley moved out to Senta’s whilst he was healing, and Ket moved into the big house with Luck. Evenings when the smithy closed down, Ket, Luck and Stillim come out to the cabin, most days Mika come out in the buggy early, and did her turn on watching Gill too. It were good weather, so’s mostly they could be outside, the cabin bein’ a little small for 3 grow’d women, the baby and Gill. It jest naturally became a place to gather, and the menfolk decided, with a little prompting from Mika, that they should build a big porch onto the backside of the cabin, kind of an open air room.

After much discussion, it was decided the new addition to the Smith family would be named Senmiketa. In spite of her tumultuous and early arrival, she was a good natured baby, and rarely cried. Not that she had much call too, with never less then three women to cosset her. She had the soft gold hair like her daddy, but big dark eyes like her mama.

Senta’s brother’s and sister come out most evenings too, not much likin’ stayin’ at home with their new step mother. Stillim’s brother come out quite a bit too, though he never talked much. Didn’t take too long fer the women to notice he come out mostly when Kita was there. Kita talked enough for everybody, and when she weren’t talkin’ she were singin’ it seemed.

Ket, sittin’ on the new porch, looked out over his backyard. Nip had coaxed his vixen home, he was sitting outside the den he’d dug under the stall crib, makin’ sure none of the humans bothered his new family. Green eyes was sprawled out not too far away, onct awhile he’d go over and she’d wash his face for him. She weren’t havin’ kittens no more, but her children and grandchildren were keeping up the cat population. Most the cats in town owed some part of their family tree to that limb. Neither she nor the fox paid no attention to the chickens scratchin’ round jest a few feet away.

Gill was sittin’ on a blanket, surrounded by admirers, but he didn’t pay them no mind at all. He’d discovered Senmiketa, and seemed facinated by finding someone smaller then him. Young as they was, you could see there was a bond between those two. When Gill got to fussin’ over the pain of healin’, or cuttin’ a tooth, tuckin’ his little sister next to him usually helped take his mind offen it. Senny would watch him with her big dark eyes, all sober, then suddenly give a big smile. That just tickled Gill, and he would bust out in giggles, wigglin’ all over like a puppy.

Moondapple had a white colt with black legs by her side. Mika’s little mare was due soon too. Them and the visitor’s horses grazed in the meadow, while children play catch-me all around and through them. Night was bein’ annoyed by a young gelding, who kept taggin’ ‘long behind him. He finally walked right out into the middle of the shallow pool and stood there, the youngin’ not likin’ to get his feet wet gave up and went back to the rest of the herd. Night tossed his head a few times, then strolled out tother side of the pool and nibbled on some tender green leaves. He was particularly gentle for a stallion, but he drew the line at babysittin’.

Senta come and snuggled up ‘gainst him, restin’ her head against his shoulder. Little curls of hair framed her face, she never could get them to stay back in her braid, and he was glad of it. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her hair. Life don’t get much better than this, he thought. So why did he still feel that tug from the west?

Finally Gill was well enough to go home, and Senta and Ket had their cabin all to themselves again. The night had turned cool enough for a little bonfire, and Senta was watching the fire light dance red highlights in Ket's dark hair. He stared in the fire like he was lookin' for answers.

"Ket?" Senta said, "What is it?"

He looked up at her, this woman he loved with all his heart, who always seemed to know what he was feelin'.

"Senta," he began, then stopped. Had to clear his throat a few times before he went on. "Do you figure it's time to begin havin' babies of our own? I mean," he stumbled on, "I seed you with them, you looked mighty contented with little Senmiketa snuggled in your arms. Iffin' you want..."

Senta laughed. "Ket, I spent my girlhood raisin' babies, I'm not hankerin' for any of my own yet. I got Luck's babies to play with, and that's good enough. Besides," she looked off into the dark under the trees, "I think it better to start our family when we get settled where ever we're goin' don't you?"

Moving On

They set up camp early, the second night out. It was a beautiful glade, trees all around, a small tinkling stream. They were in no hurry after all. What ever they were following, it was still there.

Ket had built a campfire to cook their meal over. Senta, with a cry of delight, had discovered some herbs that she rarely seen back home. From a pot over the fire a wonderful smell drifted over the meadow.

Ket had pulled up a log so as they could both snuggle and watch antics going on around them. Nip's family was tumblin' in a ball of yipping fur. They was none too steady on their legs yet, but that didn't stop them from being curious about everythin' They had broken apart and now were chasing each other on rather wobbly legs. From the shade of a bush, one little vixen crouched low, waitin' for one of her big brothers to run past. Sure enough, here come one, and she pounced from her hiding place to land on his back. But before she got there, an orange streak come from the other side of the bush and knocked them both over!

"Kiyip!" the vixen screeched, and Nip, relaxed by Ket's side, was gone across the meadow. He was nosin' the kits, but not seeing any damage, when that same orange whirlwind come out and hit him! This time it didn't disappear, but rolled over and over, red fur, orange fur. Suddenly it broke free, leaped high in the air and raced up the nearest tree, Nip hot on it's tail. He couldn't jump as high as the branch the critter was sittin' on, but that didn't stop him from trying.

"That cat's jest laughin' at him" Senta said "I swear, that kitten's the spittin' image of Green Eyes when she was young."

"Think up a name yet?" Ket leaned forward and poked a coal back under the pot. "Outside of Trouble, I mean."

The young cat leaped down from the tree to land with it's back to Nip, and walked calmly away, tail atwitch. A little too atwitch, that tail. As she stalked past the cubs, Nip charged her, and she disappeared under a pile of happily yipping foxes. Once, that lofty tail stuck out of the mob like a plume. Nip, seein' his change latched on an pulled. The orange cat let out a screetch and rose straight up in the air. She come down arch backed and bounced, fur stuck out all over. Nip was ready for this move though, and dived under her belly, knocking her tumbling. She disappeared into the pile of kits once again, Nip with a big canine grin on his face jest set and watched until the dust settled. Youngin's of all species jest drop where they are when they sleep, and those little foxes done the same. The cat lolled on it's back, chin pointed at the sky, while one of the kits used her white tummy as a pillow.

Vinty, Nip’s mate come out from under the wagon and checked each of her kits. Each one got a quick little lick, an’ that included the orange cat. Vinty still weren’t too sure about this movin’ business, or that her kits spent the day in the back of a bumpy wagon while she trotted behind. Nip had yet to convince her that a wagon seat was the place to be. But she accepted that cat as family, because Nip did. It were her first litter too, and fer all she know’d, this was how this strange fox she’d mated with lived all the time. She dropped beside him, knowin’ that all too soon those blunt little noses filling with sharp little teeth would be rootin’ at her own stomach.

"Flighty," Senta said suddenly. Ket turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised.

"The cat’s name", Senta explained. "She’s always jest flyin’ from one mischief to atother. Spends half her time in the air."

"Won’t so much once she’s birthin’" Ket pointed out.

"No tom vollunteered to come with us, so that may be a bit" Senta observed.

"Mebbe she’ll mate with a bird, " Ket agreed, grinning, "I wouldn’t put it past that one. Or much else of a cat of Green Eye’s kin. Wouldn’t be surprised if Panther herself found a mate for that one."

Twilight shadows were lengthening beneath the trees, Senta leaned forward and poked the fire so sparks flew against the dark.

"Mebbe that’s what’s callin’" she said. "Look what we are travelin’ with. Mebbe Panther, Fox and their friends are callin’ us west, jest to bring these critters with us."

Ket laughed and deftly snagged the pot offin the coals with a long stick. "I believe anythin’s possbile what you’re concerned in."

"Me?" she looked up in surprise. "You’re the one with the hankerin’ to go west."

"You feel the pull now too."

"Well, yes, but I think I’m just gettin’ pulled right along with you. Mebbe iffin I never met you I would have stayed home all my life." She made a face at the thought.

"Not so, girl" Ket said, admiring her curves in the bluing light, "You forgettin’ about Hesta? I never had no real intent of followin’ that trail that day, and none at all of stayin’ until I saw you."

"I was just a child!"

"Yes, you was, and a pretty one too. That’s why I had to wait ‘round long enough fer you to be old enough to realize I was your love, and to marry."

Senta stared at him. "Hesta don’t do love charms, you know that."

"Sure I know’d it. Didn’t need any charms but what you come by natural. But Hesta called me, sure as whatever is calling me now." He nodded towards the west. "She knew my name before I told her, and she knew you were comin’ that day. Tell me you ever thought anythin’ about any of those boys throwin’ themselves at your feet."

"Ket, how silly, weren’t no boys courtin’ me."

"Your pappy run most of ‘em off. He wern’t about to lose you and mebbe do some work hisself. I run a few of the rougher ones off myself."

Senta sat, thinking about it. Mebbe there had been a few boys who’d been hangin’ around a bit, but she never connected them with her. Never thought that way about any man ‘ceptin’ Ket.

"Oh," she said. "Hesta jest knew, that was all. She did, sometimes. Linta Hatter had her heart set on Jusmint Waters. She come out alla time asking for Hesta to tell her how to win his love. Hesta finally took her out back and sat her down, gave her some cool spring water to drink, and talked to her for most an hour. Don’t know what she done told Linta, but Linta never set her cap for Jusmint from that day on."

"He was a good lookin’ fella all right, but somethin’ jest never seemed right, Hesta didn’t like him. One day he brought a skinny little blonde back with him, said she was his wife. She didn’t look old ‘nuf to be a wife. Jusmint took to drinkin’ real heavy, and he was a mean drunk. Lived out in a cabin off abit, but some people said they heard screamin’ out there when Jusmint got too likered up. Then that girl didn’t come into town any more, and people asked why. Jusmint told ‘em she was with child, and too sick to come out."

"Hesta heard that, but she didn’t believe it one bit. She got her birthin’ herbs together and went out to that cabin. Took Sut Miller with her, but had him stay back in the bushes when she went up to the cabin. Took Jusmint a long time to answer the door, she said, and he looked like a wet squirrel when he did.

"Hesta told him she had herbs to make his wife feel better and to let her in to see the girl. Jusmint told her they didn’t need any thing of hers, to go away. Hesta said not until she seed for herself that girl was fine. Baby might be sittin’ wrong iffin the girl was that sick." Then she just ducked under his arm and right into that cabin."

"Jusmint just went wild. He grabbed a great dirty knife offin the table and went for Hesta, but Sut was right behind her. He grabbed Jusmint and jest shook him like a rat. Which he was."

"Hesta didn’t tell me this part, but I heard in town anyway. That cabin jest reeked, and not jest because of booze and vomit from Jusmint’s drinkin’. Sut said it smelled like a butcher shop that never been cleaned. He said Hesta jest went straight over to a pile of rags in the corner, and under them was what was left of that poor girl."

Ket shook his head. "What’d they do to Jusmint?"

"Held a town meetin’. Was pretty clear whut happened. Jusmint was jest screamin’ all the time, ‘cause they wouldn’t let him have no booze. Like an animal gone crazy on locobark. Bitin’ like one too. They took him back out to the cabin and hung him from the tree they buried that girl under."

"And Linta?"

Senta grinned at him. "You know whut happened to Linta. She’s Tomey and Net Miller’s ma."