"Issohko."

"Speak English, grandfather."

"Iitsi' poyi'. You speak Blackfoot. I taught you and your brother. I know you do not forget."

Everyone stared in silence. Even the fire refused to crack or pop.

Colby shook his head. "Where does your language fit in today's world?"

"The same as Japanese, German, Spanish. All have a place in the world. All are part of a person's heritage."

"We live in the United States, grandfather, in the 21st century."

"Even those in the United States speak different languages. What is wrong with speaking two languages?"

Colby's defiant stare reminded Megan of a bull staring down his target. His adamancy towards the Blackfoot language puzzled her. "Oh," she said sitting straighter and smiling. "Colby refuses to provide his grandfather with hope. Why does he fear reentering his grandfather's life, even if for a brief visit?" she asked herself.

"Omahkinaa," Colby said, and then walked away.

Gray Cloud's laugh signaled the others to move and breathe. The fire cracked and the flames danced again. Megan laughed, but did not understand why. "It means, 'old man'," Gray Cloud said.

While the kids learned Blackfoot words, Megan headed to the porch, her pace slow. She plopped on the porch step, her mind heavy with thoughts about Colby.

Brett joined her. "Don't think about it, cuz. You'll get hurt. Let them handle it."

"How do I do that?" she said, desperate to help her friend. "I know what it's like to lose family. Colby doesn't want to do that."

"How do you know?" he said, his shoulder butted up against the post.

"Gut feeling."

"Megan," he said, exasperated.

"Brett, I have to do this. My heart says it's the right thing to do."

Without looking at her, Brett said, "He'll break it," then he scuffed his boots on the dry earth as he went to the barn.

"Tell me it's worth it," she said, blinking back tears. "A broken heart is repairable, but a disconnected family must be mended before it's too late, lest it stay apart forever. I refuse to see Gray Cloud, Running Doe, and Colby suffer any more."

Charlie's guitar wept as it sang about a cowboy longing for home, voices, and laughter. "Colby is like that lonesome cowboy," Megan whispered to the night sky. "He wants independence and the ability to roam, but he wants a place to return for rest and comfort. Why is he afraid to call Wyoming home? Why do I care?"




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