My eyes open, and I check the darkened cave. The fire is low, so I wriggle out from Beh’s embrace and add wood to it. I check outside, and the night is clear, quiet, and cold. There is still some time before dawn. Before I crawl back to the warmth of furs and my mate, I add several more logs to the fire so we will have good cooking coals when we wake.
I run my nose over Beh’s temple and use my hand to brush hairs from her forehead. I think of my dream and wonder if Beh is sad because her clothing is falling apart, and it reminds her of her life before I found her. No clothing lasts forever, and hers seems particularly flimsy.
I hold her closer and wish I knew what to do. We can try to look for her old home, but I don’t even know where to start. If it would make her happy, though, I would try to find it for her. I also know that if we find it, her tribe may not accept me. I recall the one and only time I ran across other people since my tribe was wiped out from the fire.
There were many of them, and they all walked in a line across the steppes. I had only just found my cave the season before, and I was out hunting with my spear. Working alone, I could never get close enough to the animals to use the weapon. When the people came into view, I cautiously approached them, but as soon as they saw me, four of the men in the front ran at me. They screamed and shook their spears, so I ran away.
What would I do if we did find Beh’s tribe and they chased me away but kept Beh? I look down at her face, which glows red in the firelight. What if I had to come back here again, alone?
A quiet whimper escapes from my throat at the thought. I do not want to lose Beh. I want her with me. There is no way I am going to let her go looking for her tribe if there is even a possibility they won’t accept me with her!
I remember my dream again and the sad look on her face. It makes my chest and stomach ache to think of it. I don’t want her to go away and back to her own tribe and leave me alone again. It’s not even about being alone anymore—I know I don’t want to be without Beh. Having her here to warm the furs with me at night and gather food with me during the day is the most important thing in the world.
For me.
A cold shiver runs through me as I realize there is something more important. I want Beh to be happy. If she would only be happy with her own people again, I would have to let her go back to them—even if they would not let me join her.
There is nothing more important than Beh, and if making her happy means my own sorrow, I will have to accept that.
I don’t sleep the rest of the night.
The afternoon sun is warm even though the air is getting colder each day. Nights are longer, and it won’t be many more days until it is cold enough for snow. The steppes are fairly dry though, and there usually isn’t too much precipitation during the winter, but winter nights can get very cold, even without snow.
In my hand, I hold a wooden object made from the knot of a tree. I close one eye as I look at it closely. I’ve been working on the shape for many, many days—since the day I thought of it while watching Beh run her fingers through her hair. My other hand holds the edge of a flint blade to the wood, and I carve off another tiny slice.
I used to dread the coming of winter for many reasons. I was never very prepared for it and rarely had enough food stored up to keep healthy. My bones would ache around the joints, and one year at the very end of winter, strange spots appeared on my legs, and I was so tired I could barely move. Once spring came and I found other things to eat, the spots went away, and I felt better.
I also dreaded the long winter nights when I would lie alone, cold and empty inside, just waiting for the sun to rise again. My mind would go through winters when I was a child, and everyone in the tribe would gather together in the longhouse. It was the tribe’s common shelter, made of the large bones of animals, covered in hides, mud and thatch. There was a hole in the very center of the top, where the smoke from a large fire would escape. When we were all together, the center fire and our body heat kept us warm.
This winter is going to be different though. I smile to myself as I think of Beh in our sleeping furs last night, sticking her cold nose against my bare chest underneath the fur blanket. It made me shiver, and not just from the cold.
I’m almost looking forward to the long nights this winter because Beh will be here for me to protect and care for as the days grow short. I also hope by then she will let me mate with her because spending the winter trying to give her a baby is something I really want to do.
“Ehd?”
I turn away quickly, shoving my hands underneath the extra piece of hide I brought with me just in case she tries to see what I am doing.
Beh makes some more mouth sounds and places her hands on her hips. I look up at her but keep my hands hidden and my body tense, not sure what she is going to do. She moves her head from side to side as she looks down at me a moment but then sighs and smiles. She tries to walk around to the front where I sit, but I twist my body, hands, and the fur around so she still can’t see underneath the furs in my lap. She tries to sit next to me to see what I have in my hands, but I won’t let her.