“I have a suggestion,” he said as the trolley clanged along. “Since we parted at Bear Paw, one thing about you kept me alive.”

Kept him alive. “The fact that you found a woman silly enough to love you with every breath she takes?” I whispered back. The trolley car was filling up and we didn’t need an audience.

He knew I was lightening the mood, even as I deepened it. “Oh, that, too,” he teased in turn, then turned as serious as I have ever seen him. “It’s this: Whenever things were at their worst in these last few years, I knew I could close my eyes and remember your smile. I have been thinking of you as Her Smile.” He said it in Nimiipuu, soft and multi-voweled. “That is my name for you.”

I liked it and told him so. I would have kissed his cheek, but everyone on the trolley car already seemed too interested in what a woman with auburn hair and blue eyes was doing with a well-dressed man who looked like an Indian but not quite. Besides, Duncan has never been comfortable with public displays of affection. He saves his considerable skills for our bedroom.

My parents went about their usual business of the day. Father happily escaped to his office even though it was Saturday, after giving me a stern warning about Doing Anything Rash. Mother echoed what he said, but I sensed that her heart wasn’t in it.

Eugenie and I crammed everything essential into my small trunk and valise, even though we had no idea what living in The Hot Place entailed. She dissolved into giggles when I vetoed two corsets and reminded her that I had lived with The People in one old riding habit and a deerskin dress without a corset in sight. Then it was my turn to laugh when she reminded me that the magnificent bosom had returned, and did I want to jiggle around in Indian Territory?

We were so frivolous, mainly trying to hold off tears of separation. Phil kindly took Duncan on a walking tour of Omaha and then lunch at his favorite Chinese restaurant. Over Duncan’s strenuous objections, at least until he understood the matter, Phil reserved two seats on the Union Pacific to Chicago, and then arranged the transfer getting us closer to Oklahoma Territory.

Duncan came home stunned. “Smiley, what a racket you have on the UP.”

I laughed. I knew what he meant. “You mean that we can ride free forever because my father is a UP executive?”

Duncan nodded. “I had no idea I was marrying into American royalty.”

And that was my reminder of Indian humor, which is dry to the point of Sahara Desert dry, and self-effacing beyond belief. “All anyone had to do was live with us for six months and claim the exemption. You can’t imagine our steady supply of houseguests through the years.”