In the distance an owl hooted and a nighthawk squawked, while the prairie wolves howled out a chorus. The smoky scent of the fire and the fresh aroma of a balmy night clung to the air; the creek gurgled, the wind whistled through the cottonwoods, while the hobbled horses stomped the ground. The whole effect was invigorating. “Where are Good Dancer and his wife?” Katrina asked White Eagle, who sat no more than a few scant inches away from her. He gave her a disbelieving look. “They have gone off to be alone.” “Maybe I did not tell you that they have recently been married.” “Oh,” she said again, not needing to be told more. She more than understood why the two of them might want to be alone, and somehow reference to the couple and what they were most likely doing made her feel more…giddy in White Eagle’s presence. “Will they be away most of the night?”
