When Bright Star got back to her 3^rd home, she found out that Miss Wilson had sent a letter, saying she was coming to Bright Star’s “wonderful Oregon that she was so proud of in geography.” She was going to come and be a missionary and a teacher, and she needed Bright Star’s help with translation. Bright Star immediately knew this was what she wanted to do, and she waited eagerly for Miss Wilson’s arrival.

Finally, she came.

It was arranged—with some reluctance on Miss Wilson’s part—that Reverend Paulson and Black Bird would build her a house. Bright Star was enthusiastic and eager to start for she had been praying and she was more certain now than she ever had been before that God was calling her to the Nez Perce. Miss Wilson smiled.

“First, Bright Star,” she explained, “we’ve got to build up interest in the tribes.”

“Oh, I’ve already been talking about it with one tribe,” Bright Star said.

“OK, then we’ll start next week,” Miss Wilson promised.

They did start the next week, the same time that the house was finished. Bright Star could’ve sworn that Black Bird and Reverend Paulson had had divine help to get it done so fast. Bird’s Flight made the school’s teepee and almost all the kids and some of the adults were there on the first day. They started with the alphabet, Bright Star obediently translating. Wolf’s Cry wasn’t in the room, nor was Bird’s Flight or Arrow’s Wind, but Bright Star saw Mountain’s Breath stick his head in a few times. She blushed and pretended not to see him.

When they were done and Bright Star was helping Miss Wilson pack up, Miss Wilson said, “I think Mountain’s Breath fancies you.”

Bright Star shrugged, but she could see Miss Wilson carefully examining her blushing cheeks.

“Well, I don’t know much about him,” Miss Wilson finally said with a wink. “You’ll have to decide for yourself.”

“Well, he passionately believes in God, so that’s at least something in his favor,” Bright Star mused. “He was always kind to me when it happened. Well, as kind as people got.”

Miss Wilson nodded. She had been informed by Black Bird what the “it” was. Bright Star often referenced it but didn’t go into detail.

“If he wants me, I think I’ll go to him,” Bright Star finally decided.

* * *

Four years later, Bright Star was married to Mountain’s Breath, was sharing God with the Nez Perce, and also had a child on her back. The year was 1855, and it was November. Bright Star was now a woman at 21. They were moving to a reservation after the Nez Perce had signed a peace treaty with the U.S. government.

They finished packing. The tribe was moving that day into the reservation.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay with your family?” Mountain’s Breath asked. “It may be difficult.”

“Mountain’s Breath, have you met me?” Bright Star scoffed and mounted Black Night, her son strapped securely to her back. “I’m not leaving this family like I left all my other ones.”

Bright Star squeezed Black Night forward, and they began to walk. It wasn’t very long to the reservation, however. Each person were told the boundaries of the reservation so there would be no shootings. Bright Star and Mountain’s Breath agreed to be very careful about keeping the boundaries to provide a relatively safe childhood for their son. Bright Star realized that, once in, there’d be almost no going out.

“Do you realize how many tribes must be in here?” Bright Star’s energetic friend, Waterfall, asked.

“Yes,” Bright Star nodded nervously. Then she nearly fell off Black Night. “Goodness! Is that Edward?” she exclaimed suddenly, spotting a middle-aged cavalry officer.

“The man who wanted you dead?” Waterfall asked.

“The very same,” Bright Star nodded.

Mountain’s Breath moved his horse to block Bright Star from view. Bright Star knew then that she had made a good choice for a husband. But she couldn’t shake her unease, and she was very conscious of her darling son on her back.

“Don’t be worried. There is no way he would—or could!—recognize you in these crowds,” Waterfall shrugged it off.

“I’m worried.”