Page 25 of Shoshone Sun (Native Sun #3)
- Shoshone Village, October 1877
Two hundred miles west of Fort Laramie -
Ten years had passed since that fateful day when Flying Arrow had rescued Jane from Fred, the same day their son had been born. Since then, their lives had been filled with love, laughter, and the fullness of life together. The seasons had turned, and the world had changed in subtle ways, but the core of their lives—family, community, and the bond they shared—had remained unchanged, steady, and unbreakable.
The Shoshone village was alive with the hum of daily life. The scent of the evening fires mixed with the fresh mountain air. Children played near the river, their laughter echoing through the trees as women gathered herbs and men worked, preparing for the coming winter. The village was thriving, a community built on unity, strength, and shared purpose.
In the center of the village, Flying Arrow stood tall, his face softened by a smile as he watched his children. Beside him, Jane beamed with pride, her heart full of contentment. She had never imagined that life could be so peaceful, so full of love and happiness.
Their oldest child, Standing Wolf, was now ten years old. He was a curious, spirited boy with dark eyes that mirrored his father’s, and a bottomless curiosity that reminded Jane of her own younger days. He loved exploring the surrounding forest, learning the ways of the land from Flying Arrow, and practicing his bow skills with the other young boys in the village. Though still young, he carried himself with the quiet confidence of his father, always looking out for his younger siblings and treating his family with great respect.
Five-year-old Snowbird, their daughter, ran playfully through the village, her laughter like music as she chased after a group of her friends. Her hair, long and blonde, was braided with colorful beads, and her smile could light up even the darkest of days. Snowbird had inherited Jane’s gentle spirit, but she also had a wildness in her heart that came from her father. She loved to pick flowers, play by the river, and sit with Jane as they sewed together, learning the traditions of the tribe.
And then there was Golden Wing, their six-month-old baby girl. She was content in her mother’s arms, her big brown eyes staring up at Jane as she cooed softly. Golden Wing was the calm of their family, a peaceful, content baby who loved to be held close. Her little hands would often grasp at Jane’s blonde hair, and her laughter—so innocent and pure—would make everyone around her pause in wonder.
Flying Arrow and Jane had created a life together that they both cherished. It was a life that was simple, yet full. There was peace, there was purpose, and there was love. And that, for Jane, was all that she had ever dreamed of.
That evening, as the sun began to set behind the mountains, the family gathered by the fire in front of their tepee. The air was crisp with the approaching night, but the warmth from the fire kept them comfortable. Standing Wolf and Snow Bird sat cross-legged on the ground, eagerly listening as Flying Arrow told them stories of the ancestors—tales of great warriors, of the earth and sky, and of the creatures that roamed the land.
Jane watched the scene with a quiet smile. It had taken her time to adjust to life in the village, but now, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. The people of the Shoshone had welcomed her with open arms, and over the years, she had come to see them as her own family. She had learned their ways, their language, and their customs, and they had shared their wisdom with her.
Tonight, she sat with Golden Wing nestled in her arms, listening to the sounds of the fire crackling and the soft voices of her children and Flying Arrow. Her heart swelled with gratitude. She had everything she needed right here—her family, her home, her purpose.
Standing Wolf, eager as always, jumped to his feet after Flying Arrow finished a particularly exciting story about a brave warrior who had hunted buffalo on the plains and battled enemy tribes. “Father, can I go practice my bow with the others? I’m getting better, I promise!”
Flying Arrow laughed and ruffled his son’s hair. “You may go, Standing Wolf. But remember, you must learn patience and respect, not just skill.”
Standing Wolf nodded eagerly, grabbing his bow and running off to join the other children near the trees. His energy was boundless, and Flying Arrow watched him with a glint of pride in his eyes.
Snow Bird, not to be left out, bounced to her feet. “Mama, can I go play with my friends by the river? We’re going to race the boats we made out of bark!”
Jane smiled warmly and nodded, watching her daughter scamper off with her friends, her laughter echoing as she disappeared into the gathering dusk.
Flying Arrow turned to Jane, his expression softening. “They are growing so fast,” he murmured.
She leaned into him, her heart full. “They are. Sometimes, I wish I could hold them close forever.”
He kissed the top of her head, his hand gently brushing against Golden Wing’s soft cheek. “They will stay in our hearts forever even when they are grown. And we will continue to teach them the ways of our people. The land is their home, and they will carry our stories with them always.”
As the evening stretched into night, the stars began to appear in the clear sky above, their brightness a reminder of the vastness of the world and the preciousness of their lives. The children returned to the warmth of the fire as Jane fed Golden Wing with a tenderness that spoke of the deep bond between mother and child.
Later, after the children had fallen asleep—Standing Wolf sprawled on his mat, Snowbird curled up with her favorite fur, and Golden Wing nestled in Jane’s arms—Flying Arrow and Jane sat together outside their cabin, watching the flickering flames of the fire. They spoke little, but the silence between them was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that only years of shared life could bring. Their fingers entwined, and for a moment, they simply looked at the stars, their hearts at peace.
“I still can’t believe it,” Jane said softly, her voice full of wonder. “Everything that we’ve been through … and now, this. It’s more than I ever thought I’d have.”
Flying Arrow squeezed her hand, his voice deep and steady. “You have always been strong, Jane. Stronger than you know. And now, we have everything we need.”
The wind whispered through the trees, and the fire crackled as they sat together, the warmth of the flames matching the warmth in their hearts. In this quiet, sacred place, surrounded by the land that had welcomed them, Jane and Flying Arrow knew that they had found their forever.
The village, their family, their children—all of it was part of a story that was still unfolding, a story that had no end. The future was full of promise, and together, they would walk it hand in hand, teaching their children the ways of the land, the ways of the Shoshone, and the ways of love.
- The End -