Stealing May part 4

Bear studied Jake’s face, waiting to see his reaction.
“Are you sure she wants me?  She’s never told me that herself.”
Jake wondered how deep Red Bird’s feelings ran for him.  Surely not as deep as his love for her.  She had never said the words.  Jake didn’t know if she ever would.  And if she did?  What would it mean for her people if he did stay?  He couldn’t shake the memory of the whole tribe that had died last fall.  He could bring sickness to these people.  Or hardship, uneasiness at the very least.
He would miss more than anything he ever had in his life.

The day had turned to evening.  The Cheyenne chief had finally returned and informed Jake, in broken English, that he was welcome among his people.  He was thanked for looking after her and Bear, and encouraged to stay and share a meal with them. 
He told them that he would consider it an honor.
Although Red Bird remained close by her father’s side, Jake did notice that she often let her gaze wander over to Jake.  He tried to keep his eyes averted, but he found himself wanting to soak up as much of her enchanting beauty as he could, knowing this could well be the last night he would ever see her.
Long after the meal had ended, the tribe remained gathered in the center of the village, in good spirits due to the return of two of their people, whom they had given up as lost.  Jake glanced around, then slipped away unnoticed.
He fumbled his way through the dark, in the general direction of his temporarily abandoned wagon and horses.  When he finally found them, he caressed the animal’s muzzles. 
“Come on, boys,” he whispered.  “Let’s get going, huh?”
He felt his way along the side of the wagon until he reached the driver’s seat.  He heard something moving in the bushes behind him, then someone spoke.
“Jake?”
He turned and saw Red Bird standing behind him.
“You are leaving?”
He nodded.  “Your people have you back now.  You’re home.  I don’t . . . I don’t want to cause any trouble for you or your family.  They have enough to worry about without me here to complicate things.”
“But . . . you will not ask me?”
He shook his head.  “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because . . . Because I’m Ve’ho’e.  Because I could bring sickness and death to your people.  I’m like the white crow that scares away the buffalo.”
“No, you are not those things.  You are a friend to us.”
“That may be, but . . . I’m sure your father wouldn’t want you to marry a white man.”
“But he would.”
Jake looked up.  “What’s that?”
“I have spoken to him.  He says that you have earned his respect.  He says he will allow it, if you ask him.”
Jake paused, then shook his head.
“I can’t, May.  I just can’t.  I’m sorry.”  He checked the hitch one more time, then turned his back and started climbing onto the wagon.
Red Bird felt desperation rising up inside.  She fought with herself for a moment, her breath catching in her throat.  He couldn’t leave!
“I love you, Jake!”  Her voice penetrated the silence. 
Jake froze halfway up to the front of the wagon.
“I love you,” she repeated.  “Don’t leave.  Please don’t leave.”
Jake dipped his head, turning slightly in her direction.
“You think you don’t belong here, but to me you do.  You are in my heart, Jake.  Am I not in yours?”
He found himself relenting.  She had said that she loved him—isn’t that what he had wanted all along?  He gently took her face in his hands.
“You are, May,” he told her.  “You are in my heart.”
She stepped close to Jake, and he kissed her.
“Ask me,” she whispered.
Jake ran his hand down her long, silky hair.
“Will you marry me, my Red Bird?”
She smiled.
“Yes, Jake.  Yes, I will.”