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good-looking man Meadow did not think him nearly as handsome.
    “It is truly an honor to meet the brother of Black Horse,” Meadow said. She noticed the possessive way that Black Horse held onto her; he did not allow her to leave his side for one instant.
    Walks Tall leaned toward Meadow and chuckled as he said, “We’re not related, but we do consider ourselves as close as brothers.”
    “We have been blood brothers since we were small boys and cut our fingers to join our blood,” Black Horse added. “And Walks Tall is also my head warrior. He is at my side in all battles.”
    Walks Tall nodded his head and straightened his stance in a proud manner. As head warrior, he had ridden with Black Horse on every raid and battle they had fought since they had been inducted into manhood together during the Sun Dance Ceremony, in which boys became men in an ancient ritual that involved having hooks stuck in their chests, then being hung from a pole by the hooks. The boy would dance around the pole until the skin was ripped from the hooks. All Sioux men carried the scars from this sacred rite.
    “Will you eat with us to night?” Meadow asked, knowing that her father would not mind another guest for the eve ning meal. She glanced up at Black Horse and was relieved to see that he did not seem to mind her extending the spontaneous invitation to his close friend. He smiled down at her when their eyes met, and nodded slightly.
    “You are kind, but my sister—my real sister—has insisted that I come to eat with her family to night.I have not seen her for many moons, and I have a young nephew that I did not even know had been born.”
    “There will be time,” Black Horse said. He hugged Meadow tighter and smiled down at her.
    “I will look forward to it,” Walks Tall answered.
    As he turned to leave, Walks Tall glanced back at his friend in wonderment. It seemed almost impossible that Black Horse had gone through such a complete transformation in the last two days. The man he had known his entire life had said on many occasions that he did not have time for a wife and family because he considered the fight for his people his only quest. Now, in just the short time since they had arrived in Canada and he had met this woman, the chief was like a different man. Walks Tall had never known a woman to affect Black Horse in such a manner, although there had once been a young Blackfoot girl who had held his interest for a while. Even though she was supposed to be Black Horse’s captive, they had enjoyed a very passionate time together. Black Horse had kept the girl, Shy Deer, for several moons, and even missed her when her own people had finally recaptured her.
    Last night, Walks Tall had heard the comments about this woman’s white heritage, and he hoped this would not present any problems. But, as Walks Tall looked at the beautiful woman at his friend’s side and the way they were looking at one another now, his heart filled with happiness. This marriage was a good thing. It was time for Black Horse to have some peace and contentment in his life—even if it was for only a little while.

Chapter Seven
    Brandon Cornett wished he could shed every stitch of his clothing. The heat of the midday sun felt almost unbearable, and the heavy woolen coat he was wearing made him feel like a million miniature irons were pressing into his skin. He sighed, deep and hard. What he would give to take off his coat. But then, he reminded himself, he would be out of uniform. With a sense of aggravation, he glanced at his superior officer, Superintendent Walsh. Instead of the formal uniform worn by the other North-West Mounted Police, the flamboyant leader of the troop at Fort Walsh preferred to wear a fringed buckskin outfit.
    A frown tugged at Brandon’s mouth as he continued to study the man who led the troop. Even now, on this solemn mission, the commander wore his unorthodox suit as he rode at the head of the small brigade. Brandon thought his