He looked around for the sun. It was low and red on the western horizon. It had been high when he sat down here. He must have gone on a spirit walk.
"I knew it would be like this," Sun Woman said. "It would come one day when I least expected it—my son would be back again."
He sighed deeply. "To see my mother makes my heart as big as the prairie."
They sat facing each other and she gripped his shoulders. "You are a man now, a very handsome man." She ran her hand along his cheek, and his whole face felt warm. He kept his gaze fixed on her eyes.
She said, "You have learned much. You have been hurt. Your face is scarred." She followed the line of the scar with her thumb, leaning forward to peer still more closely at him. "I see sadness in you. Your father is dead. That is why you have come back."
She sat back and closed her eyes for a silent moment. Then she began a song for the dead.
"Earthmaker, show him the way.
Lead him over the bridge of stars and sunbeams,
Along the westward Trail of Souls.
Take his soul into your heart."
After she had finished the song, Sun Woman wiped the tears from her face with her blunt fingers. She reached out and stroked his cheeks as well. He had not realized that he was crying.
But grieving for Pierre reminded him to reach into his medicine bag.
"I have a gift for you, Mother." He took out the flat silver case with its velvet neck cord, opened it and showed her the pair of spectacles Marchette had brought to him from Victoire. "Do you know these?"