“Too bad; you have a lot in common.”
“You think so?”
I turned and looked at her for a change. “I was giving sheriff lessons.”
“I bet you were.”
A familiar voice sounded from just behind us. “I hate to break up this lovely conversation, but would you mind going and helping your daughter off the horse so that she can get married?”
I glanced back at the Cheyenne Nation, master of ceremonies, my best friend, and the man who was going to actually be marrying my daughter to Michael Moretti. “ E-hestana Na-he-stonahanotse.”
He looked at me blankly.
“Right?”
He shrugged and nudged me with a strong hand. “Close enough.”
Vic added, under her breath, “You’re on.”
I started the walk down the aisle between the two families, as Ruby, always able to read my moods, stretched a hand out to squeeze mine as I passed, in a token of reassurance.
There were rows of poles meandering across the meadow and leading into the forest at the head of the valley that led down to the springs. The staffs were festooned with Indian paintbrush and white and pale-blue ribbons, the Cheyenne traditional colors, and flittered in the slight breeze.
The scent of cedar, sage, and sweetgrass filtered through the air as I pulled up at the back of the crowd alongside the tribal police chief and sighed deeply.
She glanced at me, still wearing the smile. “I don’t think your undersheriff likes me.”
“No, I don’t think she does.” I glanced at Lolo Long. “You mind telling me something?”
“What?”
“What is it you’ve got against Henry?”
She looked uncomfortable, and I was almost sorry I’d asked. “Nothing big.” She paused. “I had this huge crush on him when I was a kid, and he never gave me the time of day. He even dated my mom.”
I glanced at her.
“There was a time when my mother was rather hot.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I played with the ring on my little finger. “Where is your mother?”
“In Billings, making arrangements to adopt Adrian-there was no other time or she would be here. I’m supposed to go up there after the ceremony.”
I leaned a little forward and watched as Albert Black Horse, in full Tribal Police uniform, did his best to ignore us and watch my daughter approach. “Well, you’ve got good help these days.”
I listened as the Four Dances Drum Group beat in time to the horses walking down the pathway. E-hestana Na-he-stonahanotse, E-hestana Na-he-stonahanotse, E-hestana Na-he-stonahanotse.
“I might try and visit my son, while I’m up there.”
I nodded my head, and then realized what she’d said and smiled back at her.
“Nothing big, just touching base. You know, get things started.”
“I think that’s a great idea.”
She waited a moment before speaking again, and I could tell it was still hard for her. “If I haven’t mentioned it…”
“You have.”
She leaned a shoulder into my arm and bumped me-and that was enough.
The black mare made the last turn in the path, and I could now see that its mane was braided like Cady’s hair. “You know, it was something you said that jogged my memory loose about the connection between Herbert and Karl and the bracelet. When you were getting ready to head off, you said something about the family stuff being more than you wanted to handle, and it got me thinking.”
“You’re being kind.”
“I’m being honest.” I took a breath and repeated my line, careful to not speak out loud this time.
“You’d be very proud of me, Walt; I wrote up a very nice report explaining to the DOJ that Special Agent Cly was instrumental in breaking the case and that I was looking forward to working with him in the future.”
I nodded. “You’re trying to get rid of him.”
“Just as fast as paperwork can travel.”
Breathing a laugh, I glanced back at the AIC, and he raised his eyebrows at me.
My attention was drawn to the sky as two large, dark birds circled each other, and I quietly prayed that they weren’t turkey vultures. I looked at Lolo. “So, you’re going to keep the job?”
There was a long pause as she thought about it. “For a while; see if it suits me.”
I reached out and bumped the extra mags on her gunbelt with the back of my hand as I stepped forward. “It does.”
Cady had pulled Wahoo Sue up to the assigned spot; she was an admirable horsewoman but working without a saddle or bridle was always a trick. I raised my hands up to her, took her by the waist, and gently lowered her to the ground.
She looked at me and grinned, and I don’t think I’d ever seen her so beautiful. She spoke in a whisper as her hand crept up and stroked the big horse to quiet her. “So far, so good.”
“Better than the wedding march on an accordion, I can tell you that.” I took her hand, and we turned toward the altar, a little time to spare as the menfolk answered Henry’s questions and got themselves together. “You look marvelous.”
“Thank you; you look pretty spiffy yourself.”
“Spiffy, huh?”
She hugged my arm. “Yeah.”
“I seem to recall that as one of your mother’s words.”
“It was.” She hugged my arm tighter, and we both took a deep breath. “I wish she was here.”
“Me too.” I cleared my throat and remembered the ring. “Um, I’ve got something to give you.”
She glanced at me, a trace of annoyance in her voice. “Now?”
“Well, yep. Here in a couple of minutes, it’ll be too late.” I placed my fingers around the ring on my little finger and pulled. There was a slight panic when it felt as if I might not be able to get it over the knuckle, but, after the second try, it came free.
I handed it to my daughter.
She took it, staring at the smallish diamond surrounded by two chips, one on either side of the antique setting.
“It belonged to your great-great-grandmother. I gave it to your mother as an engagement ring when we got married, but she made me take it back for you when she… when…” I took another breath, knowing our time was running out. “Toward the end.”
She looked up at me through the wayward strands of strawberry blonde, her eyes shining.
“She wanted you to have it.”
She swallowed and slipped the ring onto the same finger as the engagement ring that Michael had given her, the dichotomy between the sizes of the two stones almost laughable.
“In 1863 that was a big diamond.”
She laughed and cut the circulation off in my arm. “It’s all going to be all right.” Her clear, gray eyes came up to mine. “Right?”
“Right.”
Henry Standing Bear gestured toward the small Longmire family, the fringe under the arm of his outstretched sleeve swaying with the light breeze. We started down the aisle and toward the waiting Morettis. For a second, I was reminded of something a friend had said, something on the mountain, something ominous-but I pushed that from my mind and looked up to see that the two birds I’d noticed were crows circling right above the meadow, the primaries of their wing tips spread like fingers as they rode the thermals that lifted them into the cloudless sky.
Maybe it was an omen, but I decided to take it as a good one. I’d heard that crows mate for life and are known to raise their young for as long as five years.
Sometimes you don’t get that long.
I thought about Audrey Plain Feather and how her life hadn’t turned out the way she’d hoped-maybe nobody’s did.
My wife Martha’s hadn’t. Mine hadn’t. Even Henry’s hadn’t.
Maybe Cady’s would.
It’s hopes like this that you cling to at major turning points in your life and, more important, the lives of your children. You keep going, and you hope for the best, and sometimes, maybe not very often, your hopes come true.
I took the luxury of watching the crows playing tag above our heads for a moment more, the graceful arc of their patterns intertwining in figure eights of infinity. That was probably our job here, to keep going and to do it with as much artistry and beauty as our hearts could bear.