“MacKenzie surveyed the nearly finished quilt. "What's the name of this pattern, Mrs. King?" he asked."Princess Feather," Jesse answered.Taking LisBeth's hand in his own, MacKenzie asked, "Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if you had planned to add this quilt to LisBeth's hope chest?"Jesse looked up at the couple and grinned. "I could be persuaded to do that. But only if I was assured that her future husband was a man worthy of sharing such a gift.”

“She told everything as quickly as she could, stringing sentences together the way she had when she was a little girl. By the end of the tale,she found herself defending her mother,angry at the world that made it necessary for her to explain.Impulsively, she grabbed a curry comb and began to brush Red Star's coat vigorously.She brushed for a long time,and tears began to blur her vision.She tried to resign herself to what seemed to be happening.Then a hand covered hers and squeezed affectionately. Mac took the curry comb away,and bent to kiss the back of her hand."So,Miss King,will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the social next Friday evening at the Congregational Church?"Miss King embarrassed herself by saying yes! so loudly that the dozing horse in the stall next to Red Star jumped and kicked the side of his stall in fright.The two young people laughed, and MacKenzie lifted LisBeth into the air and swung her around in his arms.Sick with apprehension,Jesse had been unable to remain alone for long.She returned to the kitchen to help Augustus with meal preparations, praying earnestly for LisBeth and MacKenzie while she worked.When the two young people burst through the kitchen door together,their happy smiles told the older women all they needed to know.LisBeth was sobered when she saw her Mother. "Mother,I..."Jesse held up a hand to stop her. "It's all right,LisBeth. I'm glad everything turned out.I've been praying for you both.""Mother,all four of us know about Papa. Would you tell me a story about him while we make supper?"The culprit never came forward, but at some time that evening, the first book-burning in the State of Nebraska took place. Francis Day's Memoirs of the Savage West found its way into Augusta's cook stove.”

“We'll make leadplant tea instead of coffe.Just tell them it's imported." Jesse whispered."Mama,you taught me never to lie," LisBeth chided."Well,it is imported-from the prairie!”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you,” Jesse asked, in a semi-amused voice, “ that a gentleman never lays a hand on a lady?” Which I thought was kind of funny, considering where Jesse had had his hand the last time I’d seen him. But I thought it better to let that slide.”

“What is this strange touch?"With a start, Jesse realized that Rides the Wind had awakened. He lay watching her closely.Feeling shy she pulled the buffalo robe up under her chin, answering softly, "My people say 'kiss.'""And who gives this 'kiss'?""Parents to children, husband to wife.""Show me." As he said it he leaned toward her. Jesse obediently placed a kiss upon the wind-hardened cheek.He kept his face near hers and the dark eyes searched hers.Then a knowing smile curled up the edges of his mouth. "When Marcus Whitman met with Running Bear and the traders,Rides the Wind was there.I saw many things.I saw this touch you call 'kiss' between man and woman.It was not here," he tapped his cheek, "but here." His finger indicated his mouth.Jesse felt her face flush and wondered if the early morning light revealed her embarrassment. She assented, "Yes,for some it is so.""Did Jesse King and Homer King touch in this ay?"Jesse looked hard into the searching eyes.They returned her stare with honest interest. "My people do not speak of these things."Rides the Wind was quiet for a moment, pondering her response. "If the white man speaks not of what is here," he laid a hand flat upon the tawny chest, "he must be very sad.”

“What's your name?" Jesse asked."Go to hell," the man muttered."Interesting name. Your mother must have been thrilled with your birth.”