“It is time, Cut Hand,” I said simply.
“Billy, I cannot do this thing. I love you beyond all reason.”
That night, Cut rogered me with a quiet desperation and settled into my arms afterward. Normally he sheltered me with the afterglow of his embrace. Tonight, his broad back lay against my chest, revealing the depth of his inner turmoil.
At length he spoke again. “I have been thinking on this. Our life is good together. If this is so, why must we change it?”
Hope flared and died. “Because you are not with the People. You are of them, but apart. Your nights are spent at the Mead with me. You have no family to aid in understanding their needs. You have no wife to interact with the women of the band and draw them to you.”
He lifted his head slightly and smiled. “The women respect you.”
“M
