Logan nodded. “I’m pure Shoshone, and I’ve already pictured them here even before the days of the horse, but after they’d already camped and hunted in the forest. I think they would have revered the springs with awe and as something deeply spiritual.”
Blaze trailed his fingers down Logan’s bare arm. “When I first saw you in my class, I guessed Native American, then Shoshone.”
“Really? I know I look Native, but how did you know my tribe?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been studying the history here and knew about the tribes connected to it. I thought I was guessing about yours, but maybe deep inside I just knew.” Maybe his wolf had told him. Blaze stopped stroking.
“Don’t stop. Your fingers skimming my skin feel good.”