Delilah said to Clint while they stood at the back of the boiler deck, waving to the assembly on the shore as the Nymph pulled out into the current following two days of feasting. A lump formed in her throat as she watched Sky, her father and the others grow smaller in the distance. “You mean because Talks Wise advised me not to try livin’ Indian again.” His expression was unreadable as he stared at the vanishing figures. Delilah watched his profile, wondering what he was thinking. Had he taken Talks Wise’s words as a rejection? She did not know what the two men had discussed after they’d left the feasting late last night. At first she’d assume it was about Sky and Father Will, the young Episcopal priest who served their reservation. But later she learned that the old chief had cautioned Clint about returning to his former life, reminding him that he had built a new one in the white world and could serve the Ehanktonwon people best by remaining a respected businessman aiding Sky with legal connections in St.
