The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [167]
“How’s Brac’s arm, Oga?” she asked the young mother sitting beside her.
“See for yourself, Ayla.” She opened his wrap and showed Ayla his arm and shoulder. “Iza took the cast off the day before you came back. His arm is just fine, except a little thinner than the other one. Iza says once he starts using it again, it will get stronger.”
Ayla looked at the healed wounds and felt the bone gently while the sober, big-eyed boy stared at her. The women had been careful to steer away from subjects that were remotely connected with Ayla’s curse. Often someone would begin a conversation, then drop her hands in mid-sentence seeing where it was leading. It tended to stifle the warm communication that was usual when the women gathered together to work.
“The scars are still red, but they should fade in time,” Ayla said, then looked at the child. “Are you strong, Brac?” He nodded. “Show me how strong. Can you pull my arm down?” She held out her forearm. “No, not with that hand, the other one,” she corrected when he reached up with the uninjured arm. Brac changed hands and pulled against her arm. Ayla resisted just enough to feel the strength of his pull, then let her arm be lowered. “You are a strong boy, Brac. Someday you will be a brave hunter, just like Broud.”
She held out her arms to see if he would come to her. At first he turned away, then changed his mind and allowed Ayla to pick him up. She held him up in the air, then cuddled him in her lap. “Brac is a big boy. So heavy, so sturdy.” He stayed there comfortably for a few moments, but when he discovered she had nothing to feed him with, he squirmed to get back to his mother, reached for her breast, and began to nurse, staring at Ayla with big, round eyes.
“You’re so lucky, Oga. He’s a wonderful baby.”
“I wouldn’t be so lucky if it wasn’t for you, Ayla.” Oga had finally broached the subject they had painstakingly avoided. “I never told you how grateful I am. First I was too worried about him, and I didn’t know what to say. You didn’t seem to want to talk much, either, and then you were gone. I still don’t know what to say. I never expected to see you again; it’s hard to believe you’re back. It was wrong for you to touch a weapon, and I can’t understand why you wanted to hunt, but I’m glad you did. I can’t tell you how much. I felt so awful when you were … when you had to go, but I’m happy you’re back.”
“I am too,” Ebra added. The other women nodded in agreement.
Ayla was overwhelmed by their unconditional acceptance of her and struggled to control tears that wanted to flow much too easily. She was afraid the women would be uncomfortable if her eyes watered.
“I’m glad to be back,” she motioned, and the tears escaped her control. Iza now knew her eyes watered when she felt strongly about something, not because she was sick. The women, too, had grown accustomed to that peculiarity of hers and had come to know the meaning of her tears. They only nodded with understanding.
“How was it, Ayla?” Oga asked, her eyes full of troubled compassion. Ayla thought for a moment.
“Lonely,” she answered. “Very lonely. I missed everyone so much.” The women’s eyes held such pity, Ayla had to say something to change the mood. “I even missed Broud,” she added.
“Hhmmf,” Aga said. “That was pretty lonely.” Then she glanced at Oga, a little embarrassed.
“I know he can be difficult,” Oga admitted. “But Broud is my mate, and he’s not so bad to me.”
“No, don’t apologize for him, Oga,” Ayla said gently. “Everyone knows Broud cares for you. You should be proud to be his mate. He’s going to be leader, and he’s a brave hunter, he was even the first to wound the mammoth. You can’t help it if he doesn’t like me. Some of it is my fault; I haven’t always behaved as I should to him. I don’t know how it started and I don’t know how to end it; I would if I could, but that’s not anything you should worry about.”
“He always did have a temper,