Fighting Hawk saw the tears in his eyes."And the other one?"Happy Beaver moved his hand to the head of the smaller boy. "This is Whispering Wind. Sinc... the day he was born he seems to hear things in the wind."Fighting Hawk nodded and stood up. He spoke loud enough for his voice to carry to all of the people assembled. "Happy Beaver is dead." Fighting Hawk turned and held out his hand. It was obvious that Happy Beaver was being offered the chance to shake hands and he was confused, but he saw no. He asked if you were in but wouldn't leave a name. He said he would call back."I thought about that for a second. Probably some salesperson. They never want to leave their names, knowing I wasn't likely to return their call.That morning went by quickly. I couldn't stop thinking about the night spent with Greg. Even while scanning the most interesting of case studies, my mind would wander to what Greg was doing. Of course, I knew what he was doing. He was an ob/gyn. A doctor. The thought of his. More

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