My head told me there wasn’t anything else to miss. Except for a few words, I did not speak the language of the Nimiipuu. I had been subsisting on less than starvation rations. I had been shot at and chased, and fear had become my constant companion. Why I should suddenly draw back when my rescue was so close puzzled me.

I can see it now, even though I couldn’t then. I had become accustomed to Blue Mountain Woman’s welcoming smile each morning, even as she prodded me awake. I remember even now her relieved expression that night of the Canyon Creek fight when she found me. And there was Hawk, riding behind me when we fled from the Bannock Scouts, even though he easily could have passed Methuselah. Leaving them was going to be harder than I reckoned.

As it turned out, I couldn’t say goodbye to Blue Mountain Woman because she had joined her friends and I was too shy to intrude. I decided to tell myself that she didn’t like farewells, either. I mounted Fair One and followed Hawk and Poker Joe as they turned east and headed for a small stand of trees I could see if I squinted.

No one spoke, although I did wonder why Bowles Trading Post was so far from what I knew was a river. I got off my pony when they stopped and handed the reins up to Hawk.

“He said he would be near that tallest cottonwood,” Poker Joe said, and pointed with his lips. “I think I see him. He said he has a horse for you.”

I shaded my eyes with my hand. Yes, there was someone. I saw only one horse and wondered. “Can’t I stay with you?” I wanted to ask, but I saw nothing in either man’s face that indicated they were receptive to such an idea. Hadn’t this been the plan all along?

They were no better at saying goodbye than I was, apparently, so I made the first move. “Well, if you’re ever in Omaha, I live at 303 McDermott Street.” I’ve seldom felt more foolish, but at least I could be polite. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Poker Joe turned to leave first, and Hawk followed, but not without several backward glances. I almost called him back, but I did not feel like rejection, not after my silliness yesterday. I watched them ride away, then walked into the trees toward the tallest cottonwood.

Where had he gone? I walked through the few trees and into the prairie on the other side. Where was this white man who was going to take me to his wife and child? A stream cut through the empty land. I knelt down Indian-fashion and lapped up some water. Something made me look to the side and there he stood.