Loretta awoke shortly after dawn, alone in a cocoon of fur. She had only the haziest memory of Hunter carrying her to bed after making love to her last night. She sat up, clutching the buffalo robe to her naked breasts. Her clothing lay neatly folded on the foot of the bed, the rawhide wrappings for her braids resting on top. Her blond hair fascinated Hunter, and he had never yet made love to her without first unfastening her braids. A sad smile touched her mouth. Hunter, the typical slovenly Indian, picking up after his wife. She had been so wrong about so many things.
After waking up alone in the early morning, Loretta found herself wrapped in a fur robe, with only faint memories of the intimate night spent with Hunter. She noticed her clothes neatly folded at the foot of the bed, a detail that surprised her about Hunter's character. Despite his rough exterior, his care for her belongings revealed a more tender side.
As she sat there, recalling how Hunter would always unfasten her braids before being intimate, Loretta reflected on her earlier misconceptions about him. The realization brought a bittersweet smile to her face, as she recognized how wrong she had been in her judgment of him, attributing common stereotypes to a man who cared deeply for her.
