Dawson Bride (Wolf Brides book 3)
“I said.
“No,” Ukiah said with a smile and a shake of the head. “Say vah, louder.”
“Kavah.”
“Good. Horse,” he said. The boy had grown in the last year. His height promised he’d be every bit as tall as his father, but his tender age kept him thin as a whip no matter how much we fed him. He held a long stick and raked it over the tall grass that waved between the trees. He pointed the stick at the sun. “Now say, tahvuhch.”
I repeated it and he nodded. He and Gable spoke the Ute language freely, and if I was ever going to escape teasing in a tongue I didn’t understand, I was going to have to learn it to better hold my own.
I crouched and plucked a tender wild onion from the earth, then set it in the basket I carried at my hip. His hair was getting longer and now brushed his collar bones. Someday it would be long enough to braid, like his mother’s people.
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
7 / 10
User Reviews: