She'd had enough of people for a while, she said, and needed to get back to the solitude that helped her find a balance in her life. At her front door, she took Zan's hand. "You come visit me any time you want, Granddaughter." She nodded in her grandson's direction. "Let me know how this one is doing." Certain that they hadn’t been followed, they left her seated in her high-backed wicker chair and continued on their way. At the western edge of the reservation flowed a stream that overran its banks in spring and watered the wide grasslands on either side. Now it was nearly dry, another testament to the heat and infrequent rain that plagued the area in summer. They followed the stream bed to where it disappeared into the woods marking the reservation's boundary. Zan gave Stormwalker a questioning look. He pointed ahead, then rode into the thicket as she followed directly behind. When the trees and underbrush became heavier, they dismounted and led their horses. Finally, they broke through and entered a wide meadow carpeted in buffalo grass whose golden seed pods glistened in the sun.
