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"Marry you?" Czanna jerked up her head. She had been staring down into her lap, ashamed of herself; she had tried to use what she knew about hiring servants as a means by which to gain this proud man's cooperation. She had done this without first acquiring the knowledge of what he considered valuable.

But, marriage?

How could she ever marry him? He was Indian, while she… She was of the aristocratic, gentry class in Hungary. Indeed, though he was quite handsome, as well as heroic in coming to her family's aid, he was obviously not her equal. Indeed, they were worlds apart.

Yet, as she gazed at Stands Strong across the short distance between them, she was reminded of where she was: she was no longer in Hungary, and whatever had been accepted there was not necessarily so here. Indeed, she had to put her considerations and prejudices behind her. That is, she would have to do so if she were to make a new life here.

Still, marriage…?

She had always thought she would marry a man from her own culture, or at least from a society closely related to it. Indeed, if she were to marry a man so utterly foreign to her, mightn't she be in danger of losing the essence of who she was?

She, who had thus far lived her life in luxury, would be reduced to a mere circumference of a tepee, or worse, as her living quarters. To be sure, she would be required to do the work expected of a woman within his tribe, and she knew these to be demeaning jobs, tasks only fit for a servant. She might even be required to convert to his religion, a circumstance she could never agree to.

Make no mistake, to marry him would require her to put the noble way of life forever behind her. True, her brother had forced her to vow to never return to Hungary. Plus, he had instructed her to make a new life for herself in the American West. But, she doubted he would have ever considered she should willingly become an Indian man's wife.

As she gazed at Stands Strong, this man who was truly her only friend in a world of unknown fears, she was presented with an acute and terrible problem: she could not marry him, if for no other reason than their situations in life were so different. Yet, if this be what he required of her in order to give his allegiance to her, dare she not marry him?

Czanna gazed up at this man again but found she was staring at the top of his head; his eyes were centered downward. Indeed, he appeared to be patiently awaiting her response.

However, instead of answering him directly, she asked, "Mr. Stands Strong, I know you like me well enough, or you wouldn't have made me one of the women in your life. But, why marriage? Do you love me?"

Raising his head, Stands Strong stared directly into her eyes as he said, "I desire to have you as my wife."

"Yes, I understand this," said Czanna. "But, this is not an answer to my question: do you love me?"

She thought he might again back away from answering her directly, but instead he surprised her when he said, "I would like to make love to you. No true man will continue to pretend friendship with a woman when he desires to take her to his sleeping couch."

Stunned at his open honesty, Czanna couldn't account for the instantaneous and powerful flames of carnal sensation that rushed through her. Moreover, an image of her being held in Stands Strong's arms and accepting his kisses flitted through her mind. And, without willing it to happen, a cascade of fire was even now surging through her bloodstream, creating a desire within her to come in close to him…very close to him.

Did she secretly wish for this man's embrace?

Surely not. But, if this were not true, why did every sense within her so unexpectedly yearn to scoot in close to him, and there to urge him to hold her, to touch her?

Clearing her throat, she tried to put these thoughts out of her mind and contemplate, instead, what could possibly be her response to his declaration. At length, however, she decided she had not a single idea of what to say, and so she remained silent.

But, her silence was not going to aid her cause in securing this man's cooperation for his assistance, especially when he wasn't helping her with the dilemma of how to respond to his proposal. Indeed, he didn't utter another word. Looking downward, he was clearly awaiting her answer.

Knowing she would have to give him a reply, and soon, she first needed to discover an important fact of Indian life, a detail which might give her the means to gently say no.

"Mr. Stands Strong," she began, "I am told Indian men might take more than one wife. Are you already married?"

"I am not," he answered without hesitation. But, then he asked, "Are you?"

"I…I am not," she replied. "But, my God and my religion do not allow a man to have more than one wife, and I could never marry you if you already have or might intend taking another wife besides me. Knowing this, do you still wish to marry me?"

He inhaled deeply, glanced up at her and said, "My almost-mother is white, as are two of my aunties. I know well their beliefs. I know also their husbands honor their religion and their God, as I would, too. If we were to marry, I would take no other woman as my wife."

She sighed. Oh dear, there was to be no easy way out of declining his proposal. But, decline it she must, if only because their positions in life were so very ill-matched.

And so, she said, "Mr. Stands Strong, of all the men I have ever known in this country, I like you best of all. But, your proposal comes at a difficult time in my life. Please let me explain: on this very day when we met one another, there at the cliffs, I had only learned of the deaths of my beloved elder brother, my father and my mother. They were killed in a terrible manner back in my homeland of Hungary; they were hanged by the neck, though they were innocent of the charges made against them."

Swallowing down the instant urge to tears, she continued and said, "The morning when you found me, I was singing and praying to God. I felt then, and still do, so deeply grieved, I knew I could not go on with what my brother had charged me to do for my family. And yet, I had to keep on, for my younger brother's sake and for my little sister's. This was why I had walked so far in the dark of the early morning. I didn't know what to do; I was only aware of the need to try to let go of my pain by saying goodbye to my brother, my mother and my father. And so, I sang as best l could, using the song as a means to ask the Lord to keep them safe. Forgive me, but I am not yet over their loss."

He inclined his head. "It is hard to lose those one loves."

"Yes, it is, and thank you. But, my situation grows worse. I now fear we may have lost Mr. Henrik, too. He was my father's manservant, and my brother charged him with the duty to take us to our cousin here in Indian Country. But, the man he had hired whom we had met at Fort Benton—a Mr. Hanson—to scout for us, and who was to lead us into the mountains, robbed us by stealing all the coin Mr. Henrik had given him. And, I am told this robber left us in the middle of the night while I was gone. Mr. Henrik then went after this scout who is now part of the gold seekers' circle of friends.

"And so you see," she continued, "I am still deeply grieved by my situation. And, I fear it is too soon for me to consider marrying a man I have not known for even a full day."

He made no response to her words, not even by making a faint motion toward her.

Encouraged, Czanna cleared her throat and then continued. "Please, I am sorry to give you this answer to your proposal, but I fear it must be my response, at least until my grieving has come to an end. Yet, when one considers what has happened between us tonight, isn't it fair to believe we are quite different in our viewpoints?"

"Perhaps," he replied. "But, although I understand your words and my heart is heavy because of your loss, I do not yet know what is in your heart about what I have suggested. Can you tell it to me?"

She gulped. Indeed, she didn't quite have the courage to look at him and speak the words she knew had to be her response. And so, she stared off to the side when she said, "Well, it is this way: if we have so quickly argued over a matter that has been misunderstood between us, what would we face if we were to join together as man and wife?"

She looked back at him and saw he had raised his head to stare at her, and her stomach dropped as though a storm of butterflies had been awakened there, and for a moment—if a moment only—she wished this man would simply take her in his arms and kiss her, giving her the sympathy she seemed to require.

At length, he said, "All newly married people face these same or similar problems. Perhaps not the same, but there are many difficulties they must meet as one…if they are to be happy. But, come, you have answered a different question than the one I asked. And, although I understand your loss and the terrible thought of keeping going, I think time will not likely change your feelings about the matter of our marrying one another; although, of course, I will wait until your spirit is cleansed of the hurt you now bear. Or, are you trying to tell me no, you do not wish to become my woman, but are saying it in as kind a manner as you can?"

"Well, I…I…" Czanna shut her eyes and paused, if only to collect her thoughts. Despite what had been thrust upon her by circumstance, she needed to answer this man with what truthfully had to be her answer, but she had to do it without alienating or insulting him. At last, opening her eyes and gazing back at him, she continued, saying, "Mr. Stands Strong, I like you very much, and were our cultures not so different, my answer might be the opposite of what it must be. The truth is, I cannot marry you, because you and I have been raised so differently. And so, my answer must be no."

His response was merely one of silence.

"Forgive me, but please let me explain why this must be my answer. Whether this is right or wrong, marriage is done differently where I come from. Indeed, I have always known I would not marry for deep fondness, nor for love or passion. The manner of my upbringing has been to emphasize a woman's duty to marry in order to extend and to enrich the fortunes of both families. Marriage is not, then, a matter of the heart, but is done for the good of the family's wealth it holds in land and in coin. Please understand, I am not free to say yes to what you ask because it will not enrich the coffers of my family's wealth."

He nodded, then asked, "By fortune and wealth, do you mean the golden rock?"

"Yes."

"Soka'pii," he said in the Pikuni tongue. "As I understand your words, marriage in your tribe is usually loveless? And it is done, not because of a bond between the man and the woman, but because the family wishes to attain more riches?"

"Yes."

He didn't answer at once. In truth, he didn't speak for several minutes. At last, however, he said, "This would mean neither the woman nor the man would ever come to know or experience the deep commitment they would usually share in a marriage."

"Well, actually, that is not always true," she said. "Sometimes a woman and a man begin to love one another with each passing year. But, if not, because the marriage was made for the reason of wealth and not because of the heart, both a man and a woman may have love affairs. Indeed, it is even expected."

"Love affairs?"

"Yes, not marriage, but love and passion can be experienced with someone other than one's wife or husband, if one is discreet about it. Indeed, it is accepted for a man to keep a love partner, or perhaps two, if the family fortune allows it. Women may also fall in love with a man who is not her husband. But, such affairs are always to be so discreetly accomplished, no one would ever know."

For a moment, it appeared Stands Strong had become incapable of speaking whatever was on his mind, because he was silent for so long. In due time, however, he asked, "When you tell me of the love between a man and a woman who are not married to each other, do you mean the love of the body or simply the admiration one might feel for the other?"

She cleared her throat before saying, "It would be the former, as well as the other."

Again, it appeared to her as if he were stunned. At length, he muttered, "Let me ensure I understand this completely: you, a woman, would be allowed to make physical love to a man who is not your husband?"

"Yes, if it is done in secret."

Again, he appeared to be struck silent. But, in due time, he asked, "You tell me true about this? Women are allowed to have love affairs in your country?"

"Yes."

He had been looking downward, but when he brought up his head, he was frowning, and he swallowed hard before asking, "Are there penalties if the unmarried couple is discovered?"

"Sometimes," she said as she watched him closely, feeling as though she were explaining the deeds of a devil to a saint. But, whatever surprise he might have experienced at first, he appeared to quickly suppress the reaction, and his thoughts were no longer visible for her to witness upon his countenance.

Unexpectedly, an idea took hold of her, and though she tried to make the wayward thought go away, now that it was there, she could not shake the concept from her mind. It was an exotic notion, true; it was quite a sensual inspiration, too. Yet, if he were agreeable, it might be a means she could employ to repay this man for any of the hardships he would face because of agreeing to lead her family into the mountains. And, wasn't her family's safety the most important duty she carried?

Still, she hesitated, if only because it was a bold idea. And, it was also one she would have never thought to offer Stands Strong had she not already found him to be handsome, dependable and, indeed, utterly masculine. But, did she have a choice? If she were to say yes to this man's proposal of marriage, it would be as though she were destroying her former life. Although, perhaps if tides did not change in her homeland, she might have to consider turning her back completely on creating a similar life to the one she had once known and loved there.

But, at present, the idea of making her life here in America similar to the one she had known in Hungary was a concept she did not wish to destroy. Besides, hadn't she always known her married life might include an affair of the heart?

Nevertheless…

She knew, but tried to ignore, the words used for a woman who was considering the possible pact she was considering making with Stands Strong. And, she didn't wish to be regarded in this manner, especially by him. But, did she really have an option?

No. There was no easy way out of this. Without Stands Strong's help, she and all her family would surely perish. She needed a man—a man who knew this country and who could give them the support and the aid they would require.

Stands Strong was such a man.

Still, she wondered: if he did agree to her terms, would she ever outlive the shame of even asking him? Quickly, in less time than it takes to think it, she reflected on the lives of her younger brother, her baby sister and even Liliann. If she didn't act to secure their futures when she at least had the chance to do so and something terrible happened to any one of them, would she ever outlive the knowledge of having once had the opportunity to keep them safe?

Deciding it was better to act than to remain silent and ineffective, she realized there was only one action to take, and, mustering up her nerve, she inquired, "Perhaps now is not the time to ask this of you, Mr. Stands Strong, since we have not known each other very long, but considering your question to me and in light of my upbringing, if I were to agree to expand our friendship to include love, but not marriage, would this be enough for you to agree to stay with us and guide us to my cousin?"

Without even a moment of hesitation, he asked, "'Love' meaning of the heart or of the body?"

She, however, hesitated answering his question because she wasn't certain she could say the words she knew she must. But, also there was a note of unpleasantness in his tone. Nevertheless, at last she said, "I suppose this would be up to you."

"Then, let us do them both," he said at once. "But, you must give me an example of what I might expect if I accept your offer of expanded friendship as a means of pay for my taking you into the Backbone-of-the-World Mountains."

"What? What is it you are saying?"

"I mean this: if this is to be the pay you are willing to give me, then do it. Let me decide if it is good enough for the trouble of taking you to your cousin. Come here where I will allow you to kiss me, and we shall see how you do."

"What? Did you say 'allow'?"

"I did. I am asking you to give me a sample of this…'love' you have spoken about to me."

"A sample? Would just a kiss be what you're asking me to give you?"

He nodded. "For now," he added.

"I see." She shot him a quick glance, but he looked about as helpful as a bull in heat. She asked, "Perhaps you could help me?"

"Is this to be part of the agreement, too? Must I do all the work?"

"But, Mr. Stands Strong, even in your society, isn't it the man who kisses the woman first?"

"Not always," he answered. "Now, come here, and let's have your best kiss." He crossed his arms over his chest, looking as if he were as approachable as the stars overhead.

"Oh, very well. But, it will only be one kiss."

He didn't answer, and not even by way of a gesture did he offer her any assistance. Worse, as Czanna scooted toward him, he looked to be as kissable as a skunk.

But, she was going to do it anyway. She had made the offer; she wouldn't take it back. Coming up onto her knees, she leaned forward and gave him a gentle peck on his cheek, noting how smooth his skin was and how clean and alluring was his scent.

Oddly, in reaction to him, a sensation much like an explosion flooded through her bloodstream, and she felt an overpowering—and sexual—excitement take hold of her. For a moment, she wished she possessed the courage to ask him to do more than share a sweet, simple kiss.

Would he say yes to broadening the kiss into love making tonight?

She was, however, confused when his reaction to her kiss was to say "And, this is the best you can do?"

"You said only a kiss, sir. And, I have kissed you. What do you say now to our agreement?"

"Humph!" He held up a hand and snapped his fingers. "You expect me to be moved by little more than your lips against my cheek?"

"What? What was wrong with the kiss?"

"Ha'! Heap big work! That's what is wrong."

"Sir! I don't understand."

"I mean this," he said, his arms still crossed over his chest. "The man who would take you to his sleeping couch would need big and much patience because he would have to do all the work of teaching you about love. Much work. Too much work for nothing except a few moments spent under the sleeping robes. No treaty. No agreement."

And, with this said, he came up onto his feet and walked away from her as though she weren't this moment aching for him to touch her.

Much work? Oh my, what I have done? I have offered him the best I have to give, and he has refused it. Will he now cease to even be my friend?

As though he were privy to her thoughts, he turned back slightly toward her and, looking over his shoulder, said, "You may try again tomorrow, and we shall see how you do then."

"See how I do then? Sir!"

But, if he heard her, she didn't know it. He was already gone.