Page 18 of The Spirit of the Wolf

“A wife has many rights,” said Grey Coyote. “Among them is the license to name her time and place, as well as her prerogative to say no. And a man should try to abide by what she decides.”

“Oh, I see. But a captured woman has no rights?”

“None.”

“Ah. And a man should try to abide by what his wife says?”

“Hiya, not necessarily. But it is a good idea if a man likes to have peace in his home, and he generally does.”

“Fair enough. Then I order you to take me to St. Louis.”

“Hiya.”

“What does that word, hiya, mean?”

“To the Assiniboine, it means no.”

“Assiniboine. You are an Assiniboine Indian?”

She felt him nod. She wished she had spent more time learning about these American Indian tribes.

“Sir, you tell me I am your wife.”

“Hau.”

“And does a wife have any influence on where she and her husband travel?”

He was silent.

“Well?”

“It is the man who decides where the family goes, and when.”

“But the woman must have some influence.”

“Sometimes she does.”

“Well, Mr. Coyote, tell me,” said Marietta. “What must I do to influence you to take me to the village of St. Louis?”

He didn’t respond.

“Sir?”

At last he roused himself and said, “There is nothing you can do. My mind is already set as to where we will go.”

She turned toward him, and in doing so, her breasts brushed against him, sending a shot of excitement up her spine. She ignored it, certain it was only their unusual situation that caused it. “Surely there is something I could do to sway you to my plight. You see, a trader’s post is far away from where I need to go, and I have some urgency to return to St. Louis.”

Again, he remained still.

Whether she should or not, she plundered on. “If you would like gold, I could pay you, as I had paid Mr. LaCroix.”

“Humph!” He snorted. “I have no need of the white man’s gold.”

She turned her face outward, toward the environment. “Mr. Coyote,” she said, speaking as though she consulted the wind. “I am desperate to gain the village of St. Louis. There must be something you desire from me. Something I could give you if you will only take me to that place.”

She heard, or perhaps she felt, his low groan. But all he said was, “Perhaps there is one duty you could perform for me.”

“Oh?” she countered, hope rising within her. “What is it?”