Page 51 of Native Hawk
“But you are not a savage,” she argued.
“No.”
“You saved themindich.”
“True.”
She thought about this for a moment. “Many people are cruel.”
“Like your brothers, throwin’ rocks at rabbits.”
“Si.Yes. Your people, they do not throw rocks at animals?”
“Only if they’re plannin’ to eat ’em,” he said with a yawn. “And even then, they thank the animal for givin’ up its life.”
“That is very kind.”
He shrugged. “The animals belong here too.”
Catalina thought about that, about belonging. Her brothers obviously didn’t think the animals belonged here. In the same way, some white people didn’t think the Indians belonged here.
And yet wasn’t that all anyone wanted—to belong somewhere?
It was why her uncle had come to America. It was why she had come too.
In Italy, no matter how she’d tried to fit in, she’d never felt like she truly belonged to her entitled family. She couldn’t understand wishing to be an idle noblewoman, whose only worth came from marrying well.
Here, in this new country, a woman could start a business, be productive, make a name for herself. Here, Catalina could belong.
She was silent for a long while as she thought more about Drew’s people…how they belonged here first, long before the settlers…how they lived in nature and respected the animals…how they wore very little and cared very much. She thought about the food Drew had said his father ate—whatever he could find in his surroundings. And she realized that people like this were worthy of—not ridicule—but great respect.
She decided, “I think I would like to visit Hupa.”
But when she turned her head, she saw Drew had already fallen asleep. She carefully draped the covers over his broad shoulder.
Her smile was bittersweet. He had said it himself. He was a love-them-and-leave-them kind of man. In the morning, he would leave her, and she would never get to visit the village of his childhood.
