It was the spring of 1864 and change was like the wind, unpredictable with a mind of its own. As I looked at purple posies painting the prairie, I was thankful for the constants in life: how we could depend on seeding the ground, seeing things come to life from the bottom up, providing the clouds were not too fickle to give us rain.

Beyond the sandhills and hidden from my eyes, war between the Indians loomed. General Sully and his men were driving the war against the Sioux into the badlands. And Sully had made a reputation for himself as a man without mercy on the Indians.

Jake came up behind me before I had a chance to put on my Sunday dress. With his chin resting on my shoulder, he tried to pry into my mind. "What do you see with those pretty blue eyes, Jane?"

"Sometimes I feel blessed to see far and wide. Then other times I feel we are vulnerable with the Dakota wars north of here. I just wished we had peace on the prairie."

Before I could slip my church dress over my shoulders, Jake pressed against me and brushed the back of my neck with his beard.

"Don't fool with me, Jake. You'll make us late for church. I don't like having all eyes on us if we walk in late."

He smooched on me until I was flushed with desire. "I'm thankful for you and the boy," He said. "Not a minute goes by, I don't count those blessings."

I had to pry his hands from my waist, so I could put my dress on.

Then from nowhere, like the prairie wind, he spoke into my ear that made it ring with hurt. "What if we moved west to Oregon where the soil is rich, and we are flanked by emerald forests?"

It triggered a sharp pain inside me too, like the tip of a knife you don't see until it's too late. "And what should I do with my former husband? Leave his grave behind until no one knows he was ever there?"

His face drooped. He stepped away like he'd been on broken glass. "Gees Jane, it were only a suggestion. I meant no ill." He took his fist and punched his heart. "It came from here, where you and the boy live. You are my life."

I spun around to see his eyes wet with tears. "I can't never leave here. I made a promise over my former husband's grave and to his son. I got no fight with you Jake. But I got a venom in me like a coiled snake to keep what's mine."

Jake sought to temper me with his words. "You look even prettier when your madder than a hornet."

That's how Jake was. He could talk a rattle snake out of a bite.

"I'm not the enemy," said Jake. "I'm on your side, the winning side. And I still want that honeymoon we never had."

We breathed an uneasy sigh. It seemed we found our way back to each other. "I don't like having a quarrel with you."

He held me tight. "I crave you even more when you get angry."

***

We left for church through town on our wagon with Josh tucked between us. Skye and Mr. Greeley sat on hay in the wagon. If it was my homestead, no one skipped church unless they were sick with fever.

We all rocked back and forth on the uneven trail until we got to the hard-packed flat ride through town. There were a sea of bluecoats. We feared they'd be kicking a hornet's nest with the Indians soon.

We found our way to hillside church outside of town. As we entered the small, dove- painted church, much to my surprise, I spotted General Sully. He turned and nodded his head. I recognized him from a portrait. He was polite. But I thought he looked like a ragged goat with his long-pointed beard.

We took our place in the pew, when the preacher stood and announced we had a special visitor. He stood and acknowledged the crowd while holding his hat in front of him. The preacher gushed over him. "This here is General Alfred Sully. His campaigns are known far and wide, and we must pray for him and his men, as he drives the savages into the hills."

I stood up and inserted myself before I gave it much thought. "I mean no disrespect here, between you and the general, sir. But to call them savages implies they have no soul and are not worthy to be saved."

It got deathly quiet. But the General's smile could not be defeated. Jake tugged on me and would have held my mouth--if it could have been corralled.