Mika would bring them to me if necessary, or to Tara, Nawaji, Neha, or someone else if appropriate.By the time we got our first snow, thirty-three of the Crow women and nineteen other widows had mates from the villages that had visited us to trade or that had stopped here when hunting the nearby buffalo herds. Sometimes, they did both at the same time.While the Cheyenne elders were here, I had finally asked about mining copper. I assured them that we wouldn’t mention where we found it. I even showed them the gold we’d collected to date and told them that we’d been panning gold from the stream for over a year. That they just learned about the gold showed them that I also intended to keep the copper secret, and they agreed.All we did this summer at the copper mine was build a barracks where twenty men could live during the winter. We also installed a windmill in a shallow well we dug and lined with stone and mortar. The windmill pumped water into a cistern we built in the back of the. Even so, it took me another month to pluck up the courage to ask her out, even after her coy morning smiles, her barely audible hi.She said yes. I could not believe she had. That first date, The Wagon and Horses in town, the pub where the all the kids drank; the one with the heavy metal jukebox, the place the police would visit unannounced to pull out under-age drinkers. Forwarned of their arrival, we would kiss to hide our faces as the uniformed bobbies scanned the room.We spent our first weeks together, those autumn evenings, lying on my single bed in a darkened room kissing long and deep as Roy Harper and Nick Drake played in the background, me breaking off every twenty minutes to turn the vinyl. Sometimes there would be silence, our kissing too intense to be interrupted — though it was no silence at all, the t.v. in the living room below rising through the floorboards, the passing traffic outside penetrating the single glazing of that time. But to me, as we kissed, the quiet of.
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