Page 29 of Shoshone Sun

Chapter Fifteen: A New Beginning

- Peter Jacobs Homestead, February 1867

Ninety miles west of Fort Laramie –

Winter had woven its silent blanket over the land, the snow stretching endlessly, a frozen sea surrounding Peter’s homestead. The wind howled through the trees, pushing through the cracks in the cabin walls, but inside, the warmth of the fireplace remained a haven from the cold. Susan moved about the cabin with practiced ease, preparing a meal for the family. Peter was preparing for a journey, caribou meat packed in a bundle, ready to be delivered to Paul’s homestead. He wanted to ensure that Mary’s health had improved or at least remained stable since they had left Paul’s homestead.

Susan had come to terms with Flying Arrow’s presence in their lives. She had seen the man for what he was: a strong, proud, and honorable man who had fought beside Peter against the wolves, hunted caribou with him, and respected the land and its creatures in a way that all of them were beginning to understand. Considering that over the past several months the Blackfoot had not appeared looking for Flying Arrow, she accepted that his past trouble with the Blackfoot tribe would not be a threat to their family. The tension had eased, and she felt no fear in his company anymore.

She saw the way he cared for Jane, Peter, and Petey, how he helped the family in quiet ways, and the way he had shared his knowledge of survival. She could tell that he was not only a friend to Peter but someone who had begun to matter deeply to Jane too. The quiet, subtle connection between Flying Arrow and Jane had not gone unnoticed. In the beginning, Susan had been unsure about their growing closeness, but gradually she saw that it was something natural and pure, something neither forced nor hurried. Flying Arrow had become an important part of their small family, and Susan could no longer imagine life without him.

And so, as Peter prepared to leave for Paul’s homestead, Susan made a decision that had been brewing in her mind. She turned to Flying Arrow, who was seated by the fire, quietly sharpening his knife.

“Flying Arrow,” she began, her voice calm but firm. “I want to thank you for all that you’ve done for us these past days. You’ve helped us more than I could have imagined.” She hesitated for a moment, then continued. “There’s no longer any reason for you to leave. The Blackfoot aren’t going to come looking for you here—not anymore. I don’t want you to feel like you need to go anywhere. You and Jane are welcome to stay for as long as you need. You have a home here, if you want it.”

Flying Arrow looked up at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, he nodded, a small but genuine smile forming at the corners of his lips. “Thank you, Susan,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I will stay.”

Susan returned his smile, feeling a sense of warmth in her chest. She had not just made an offer to Flying Arrow—she had given him an invitation to belong, to be part of something that wasn’t dictated by fear or history but by something much more profound: the simple connection between people who had chosen to stand together.

Peter prepared for his journey to Paul’s homestead. The wind was biting, and the snow was deep, but it was necessary. Paul was both his beloved uncle and a good friend, and Peter wanted to ensure that everything was well with him and Mary. The uncertainty of the winter months always seemed to make people more vulnerable.

As Peter departed, he kissed Susan and Jane goodbye, giving Flying Arrow a final nod of acknowledgment. “I’ll be back in a few days,” he said as he adjusted the pack on his back, securing the caribou meat.

“Everything will be fine here,” Susan assured him, her hands lingering on his arm for a moment. “Stay safe, and give my regards to Mary.”

Peter smiled, his eyes softening. “I will.”

With that, he set off across the frozen yard to the barn. The snow crunched beneath his boots, and the cold air bit at his face, but he did what he needed to, saddled his horse, and set off.

The ride to Paul’s homestead was uneventful, though the harshness of the winter months always made the journey feel longer. The thought of the warmth awaiting him at Paul’s cabin kept him going.

When Peter finally arrived, Paul greeted him with a hearty handshake, his face a mix of relief and gratitude.

“So happy to see you, nephew,” Paul said, his voice thick with emotion. “How are things back home? Did Flying Arrow help you take care of the wolves?”

“Yes. The wolves are no longer a threat. And Flying Arrow even took me hunting,” Peter replied, offering Paul the bundle of caribou meat. “Brought you some fresh meat—thought you might like it.”

Mary, looking healthier than she had when he’d left just days earlier, came into view, her face lighting up when she saw Peter.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, her voice sounding warm but tired. “How is everyone?”

“We’re managing,” Peter said. “Susan sends her love, and Jane’s doing well too. We’re all getting by.”

“Is that that I think it is?” she asked, pointing to the bundle of meat Paul was unpacking.

“It certainly is,” Paul replied with enthusiasm. “And I’m definitely cooking caribou steaks for supper!”

Once Peter assured himself that everything was in order and that Paul did not need any further assistance, his mind wandered back to his own homestead. He had left Flying Arrow and Jane behind, and he was glad they would be staying at his cabin. The two of them were beginning to grow closer. The connection between them was evident and seemed to increase in strength with every passing day. He wondered if they would grow even closer and grinned to himself. He wouldn’t mind if they did.

After a hearty meal of caribou steaks, potatoes, and turnip, the three family members sat around the hearth drinking tea and talking. Peter enjoyed the familiar company, reclining in the comfort of knowing he had a trusted neighbor not far from him. Once he’d assured himself that Mary had fully recovered her health, he felt no guilt to be heading back to his own cabin and his family there.

The next morning, Peter set off again on the difficult ride home. When he reached his cabin the next afternoon, all was calm. No wolves or other predators had threatened the homestead in his absence.

Life went on and although the winter days were long, they slowly become easier to bear. The isolation of Peter’s cabin, once a source of uncertainty, had become a sanctuary for Jane and Flying Arrow. The hours spent together in the stillness of the snow-covered hills were moments of quiet discovery. Flying Arrow taught Jane the ways of the land—the art of tracking, the songs of the birds, the language of the wind. He shared his knowledge of the natural world, showing her how to read the subtle signs of the earth around them. The smell of pine, the deep silence that only snow could bring, the way the sun cast long shadows over the hills—these were the things that had shaped his life, and now they were becoming part of hers too.

Gradually, as Jane and Flying Arrow spent more time together, something deep began to stir. They would ride his horse, Spirit Runner, together, the powerful animal moving through the snow with ease, and Jane would rest her head against Flying Arrow’s back, feeling the rhythm of the ride, the unity between them. It wasn’t long before they began to hold hands, walking side by side through the woods, or when they would share a quiet evening by the fire, their faces lit by the flickering flame.

Flying Arrow had not rushed her, and Jane had not pushed him. There was something about the way they moved together, slow and unhurried, that made the growing closeness feel right. They would talk late into the night, sharing stories of their pasts, learning each other’s hearts. Jane would find herself laughing at the way Flying Arrow described the world, the way he saw things with such clarity, yet so much respect.

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