by C C Daniels
“We know truths that the rest of the world is not yet ready to know. Our secrets were kept safe for millennia, but now a big secret has been revealed to someone untrustworthy.” A fat tear fell from the corner of her eye, dragging paint with it down to her jaw. I tugged a tissue from the box on the nightstand and dabbed it before it hit her robe. “And it’s my fault.” She put a hand on her mouth to muffle a sob.
“What secret?” I encouraged her to continue. “Who did you reveal it to?”
There was a sharp rap at the door.
“Who is it?” MawMaw called out. “It’s me, Osyka.” It was Sawaich’s voice.
MawMaw patted my hand and took the tissue from me. “Go let him in, child. We’ll talk more, later.”
I sighed in frustration. “Now. Let’s talk more now.”
“Shh.” MawMaw frowned. “He’s your elder.”
“Is something wrong?” Sawaich asked through the door.
“Not at all, Sawaich.” MawMaw wiped at her cheeks with the tissue and with a nod ordered me to open the door.
Rising from the bed, I did, with a whoosh and a glare. I felt the heat in my eyes and did not care one bit if they were an eerie gold. Sawaich didn’t flinch, only nodded at MawMaw. They shared a glance which just inflamed my anger more. I stayed in the doorway, blocking his entrance. “Could you come back—”
“Wray.” The hard tone in her voice, I knew without looking that MawMaw was giving me the stink eye. “I said we’ll continue the discussion later.”
I spun on her. “It’s always later.”
Stepping around me into the room, Sawaich closed the door behind him. “Your grandmother knows best.” He nodded in all his wisdom.
Typically, I respected my elders. All the same, I recognized a condescending nod when I saw it.
“Trust her,” he added.
I almost laughed my sarcasm out loud. I loved MawMaw and in my heart of hearts, still believed that her intentions were good. But trust? That ship had sailed. “Good intentions aren’t the same as good wisdom.” Mimicking his soft tone, I repeated a lesson I’d learned years ago—from him—at a children’s powwow.
The patronizing smile faded, first to raised eyebrows at me, followed by a frown he shared with MawMaw. “All teenagers”—upset now, he turned his attention back to me— “no matter who they are, need stern guidance.”
I crossed my arms. “What I need is the truth.”
The slightest of squints creased his eyes.
“And you’ll get it,” MawMaw promised. “In due time.” She slid her feet to the floor to get up. “What I need right now is to wash this paint off my skin.”
Padding the few feet to the bathroom, she slowly closed the door. The lock clicking into place felt like the ultimate dismissal.
Of all the emotions stewing inside me, the fierce anger was the most volatile. The ferociousness of it scared me.
Sawaich saw it too. “The best thing you can do right now is get control of yourself,” he said it low, as if to a fidgety child. “I, your grandmother”—he shrugged—“no one can’t help you with that.” That he had the audacity to call me out just provoked me more.
“I have a right to be mad.” I took a few steps backward. “And I have a feeling you know it.”
His jaw worked side to side confirming my suspicion that he had knowledge of at least one of MawMaw’s secrets. Was it the bone in her bed, or who she had told about the bone?
Slowly, I turned around. Head held high, I slipped a room key card off the dresser into my back pocket, and after one more glance at him, left the room. Alone in the hall, my bravado slipped. I leaned my back on the wall near the top of the staircase and really did try to get control of my emotions.
I saw the entire lobby from that spot. I saw Honaw, Kanaan, and some of the elders with their heads together in the far corner. Their serious body language and facial expressions piled heavy onto my shoulders. At that moment, I just wanted out of there. My eyes darted to the side exit. The one that would pop me out in the garden. I took the stairs as quietly as I could.
An energy bumped at my consciousness. I felt Allohak’s eyes on my back and knew it was him trying to communicate.
I turned to the group of Ute men. “I’m going to work.”
All the men, save for Allohak, who darted a glance at my necklace, raised their eyebrows at my tone.
Kanaan’s pulled together in a crease. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I whispered in a panic. “No, I’m not okay, okay?” My eyes got hot, again. “I need to do something normal for a while.” I headed for the side door.
“Hey.” Out of his chair, Kanaan caught up with me. “What the heck happened?”
I snorted bitterly. “What hasn’t happened?”
“I meant just now.” He kept pace with me. “Upstairs.”
“Kanaan,” Allohak called to him in the calmest of tones.
Kanaan stopped, and for some reason, I did too. Both of us turned to face the palest elder.
“Don’t forget that you’re assigned to powwow setup.” Allohak spoke to Kanaan, yet locked eyes with me.
Eyes darting between the elder and me, Kanaan was torn between his tribal duties and me. I didn’t need to read his mind or feel his aura. It was clear in his eyes. So was the precise moment that he chose me. My breath caught. My heart melted. And my anger cooled.
“With respect, Allohak, my responsibility is to Wray.” He linked his fingers through mine. “I don’t want her out there alone.”
Instead of being unhappy about Kanaan’s choice, Allohak seemed pleased about it. He nodded at the both of us with just a hint of a smile.
But I knew they needed Kanaan’s help to set up a successful powwow. “I won’t be alone.” I squeezed his hand for reassurance. “There are hundreds of people in the park right now. And it’s just across the street. I’ll be fine.” I tried to untangle my fingers from his. He was reluctant to let go. “C’mon, now. I’ve got T-shirts with my design on them to sell.”
“One condition. You go straight to Tom’s tent.” He shook his finger at me MawMaw-style. “Text me when you get there, and don’t leave until I come get you.”
“That’s three conditions,” I murmured.
He wasn’t amused, just tightened his grip on my fingers.
“Okay. Okay.” I nodded. “Deal.”
He relaxed his hand leaving it up to me to pull away. Before I did, I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, right there in front of the men. I slipped my fingers out of his, and savoring the look in his eyes for a few more seconds, backed away before turning to push through the door.
In mere seconds, I was amid a crush of people in the park. Gertie’s ring worked astonishingly well. The only noise I heard was through my ears, leaving my mind to my own thoughts. I picked the happy one to focus on—Kanaan chose me.
A genuine smile, one I couldn’t stop if I tried, inched across my face. Joy was one heightened emotion that I didn’t mind experiencing. Music blared from the stage at the other end of the park and the aroma of baked goods teased my sweet tooth as I wove through the crowd. I was almost to the tent when a hand reached through the throng and landed on my arm. Ready for a fight, I spun.
“Whoa!” Ms. Savage dropped my arm and stepped back with her hands up.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.”
“No. No. It’s my fault. I should’ve known better than to startle you after the events this morning,” she said.
“You heard?”
“It’s a small town. Word travels fast about gunmen attacking Ute at their own tribal spring. Are you all right?”
“Um, physically yes, but…” I shook my head.
Ms. Savage took my hand. “Listen, my spiel about protecting what you found”—she glanced around us, came closer and lowered her voice—“it’s not worth your life. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
But it was worth my life. That instinctual reaction surprised me. I had no idea where it came from. Nevert
heless, I would do everything I could to protect it from untrustworthy people.
“Donate it to a museum or a university, and hopefully these people, whoever they are, will leave you and your family alone.”
“Yay! Wray!” Christy shouted from their mobbed tent. “You’re here!”
I turned to her. “Yes, I am.”
“I’ll let you get to work. Think about it, okay?” Ms. Savage squeezed my hand, then let go, and walked off into the crowd.
I ducked under the sales counter to join my bosses inside the tent.
“Here.” Christy handed me a shirt. “I saved you the last small.”
Tom poked me in the arm. “No bullet holes?”
“Tom.” Christy frowned at her husband.
“It’s okay.” I laughed despite myself and pulled the Founders Day shirt over my generic one.
“Then, let’s get to work, girl. I’ll ring ’em up. You fold and bag ’em. Got it?” he said with a smile.
“Yes, sir.”
The shirts sold like hotcakes. Hours passed before I had a chance to look up, let alone think about anything else, and that was a good thing. Founders Day activities winding down, the crowd thinned quite a bit when a preteen girl approached the sales counter. I looked up and recognized one of Mr. Smith’s daughters.
“I accidentally ripped my shirt.” She showed me her left sleeve with a dime-sized hole in it. “Do you have any more smalls?”
“We’re all out for this year. I’m sorry.”
“Dyani,” Mr. Smith called to the girl from across the way. Handing cash to the waffle vendor, Smith wouldn’t look directly at me.
The poor girl hung her head and turned toward her dad. No matter what her ancestors did in the past or her father’s creepiness, she was a kid—a blameless kid. Nothing that was happening was her fault.
“Wait,” I called to her. I pulled off the small I was wearing. “Here.” I held it out to her.
With a big smile, she came back and took it. “Thank you.”
“Dyani! Now!” Smith shouted at her this time.
“You’re welcome,” I said.
She turned to wave at the same time she ran back to her dad. Smith gripped the top of his daughter’s arm and quickly stalked way, not even waiting for the waffle he already paid for.
Kanaan, still dressed in his skins, came toward the tent at the same time that Mr. Smith walked away. I couldn’t see Mr. Smith’s face, but I saw Kanaan’s. He stared the man down with a menacing warrior glower. Maybe it was the low afternoon sun hitting Kanaan’s face just right, but I would’ve swore the his gray eyes glowed silver.
His expression and those fiery eyes made me shiver with trepidation, and apparently Dyani too. She plastered herself to her dad and the two of them gave Kanaan a wide berth.
Chapter 26
Passing the Smiths, Kanaan’s eyes locked with mine. His ominous glare smoothed to a gorgeous smile. Studying his eyes as he got closer to me, the gray looked normal.
“Was that really necessary?” I asked when he reached the tent.
“What?”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Scaring little girls.”
“Sorry for her.” He shrugged. “But not her dad. He’s supposed to stay away from you.”
“He has been,” I said.
“He better,” he said with a snarl that quickly morphed into a big smile. “Ready for a powwow?”
Our powwow would be much smaller than the annual gathering in Delta or the ones at Smoking River. This one would draw mostly Ute who lived within a day of travel from Manitou. Big or small, I usually looked forward to the dancing, storytelling, and social aspects of our get-togethers. This time, though, fun wasn’t my mission.
“Christy?”
She and Tom were cutting down empty boxes for the recycle bin. Christy looked up. “Go. And thanks for helping out today. Oh, hang on.” Pulling a check out of her apron pocket, she handed it to me. “It’s payday.”
“Thanks.” I slipped the check in my back pocket and ducked under the counter.
“Do you have the apple?” I followed Kanaan out of the less crowded park and across the street to the hotel.
“Not yet. It’s hidden near the powwow.”
By the time I got to our room, MawMaw had already left with Uncle Jun. I quickly changed back into my skins and braided my hair. Skipping the paint, I raced to the entrance. There, Kanaan and Honaw waited in a Jeep that looked older than dirt.
As I squeezed into the back seat, Honaw apologized for the condition of it. I didn’t mind. The choices were to either four-wheel it or ride horses up to the remote site they’d picked for the powwow.
I didn’t care how we got there. I was just ready to hand off both apples. “I need to go by MawMaw’s on our way please.”
“Now?” Honaw frowned and cocked his head.
“I need girlie things.” It was the one excuse that males rarely questioned. “It’ll take two seconds.”
Both Lykota boys hunched their shoulders like disappointed children who wanted to go out and play, but Honaw did drive to MawMaw’s. When we pulled into the drive, the boys opened their doors.
“You don’t need to go in with me.”
Kanaan slammed the dented Jeep door. “Humor us.”
Cautiously, we walked to and through the back door. Honaw checked the main level and Kanaan went upstairs.
“All clear,” Kanaan hollered down.
“Okay, good.” I went up and walked to the bathroom. “Could you grab a couple of bottled waters?” I gave him my best begging expression. “For MawMaw?”
“Sure,” Kanaan said.
And when he went down the stairs, I quickly tiptoed into MawMaw’s bedroom. Mom’s moccasins were wonderfully quiet on the hardwood floors. I gingerly sat on the bed and slid the sleeve up to get the honed piece of bone. But the secret compartment was empty. The little pouch with the bone was gone.
“Oh no,” I whispered to myself.
Did MawMaw take it out? That was the best-case scenario. I scanned the top of the dresser, opened the drawers. I even looked in the nightstand and under the mattress. Nothing. The worst-case scenario was that the men in black and their woman-boss finally found it.
I closed my eyes on the heat developing there and inhaled deeply through my nostrils, drawing the oxygen into that extra lung I was sure was developing.
“Wray?” Kanaan shouted from downstairs.
I exhaled in a long puff. “Coming!” I left the bedroom empty-handed and with a dreadful feeling in my stomach.
The Jeep ride up to the powwow site was jostling. We started out on a paved part of Rampart Range Road. It turned to dirt partway up the mountain.
After half a mile or so, we turned off on what was little more than a mountain bike trail. Then, it was another couple miles of winding switchbacks until the trail opened up to a beautiful mesa surrounded by dense forest. Through the trees I caught glimpses of the Garden…the red spires silhouetted by the setting sun.
We parked among the other off-road vehicles, a few mountain bikes, and some horses, one of which I recognized as Mary’s mare. Next time, I decided, I’d ride up, but not without a saddle like Mary preferred.
The beating drums told us that the powwow already started. Burial ridge was directly below us. It had been decorated it for the powwow, too, probably by Mary. She was a big believer in honoring the dead.
“We’ll catch up.” Kanaan held me back from following Honaw.
Honaw shook his head. “Young love.”
Kanaan waited until his brother was several yards from us. “Why aren’t you doing the mind-reading thing? I was trying to talk to you.”
I fiddled with the blue ring on my necklace. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. What?”
“Apple.” He pointed toward the woods.
We didn’t have to walk too far. Kanaan stopped me and looked up into the canopy of pine. I followed his gaze, but shook my head not understanding. He raised an eyebrow playfully and leaped
into the branches of the pine nearest us.
While I watched him climb, I swiftly unclasped my necklace and dropped it into my belt pouch. I scanned the tree canopy to find what he was climbing for. It took my eyes a moment, but when he reached for it, I saw it. Hooked into the upper branches was a brown bag that was a very close color match to the bark of the tree.
“Catch.” Kanaan dropped the bag to me.
The skull thumped heavily into my arms. Nimble Kanaan was down on the ground beside me in just seconds. “Brilliant hiding place.” I nodded.
He proudly puffed out his chest. “Thank you.” He took the bagged skull from me.
You’re such a male, I thought laughing at him.
He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him.
Glad you notice.
“Of course, I notice.”
He nuzzled my nose before kissing me fully. His tongue lightly caressed my lips, and I opened them to let him in. Surprised at the sensuality of my first french kiss, I didn’t stop Kanaan when his tongue got more urgent. It was his chivalry that kicked in. He withdrew his tongue and started to lean away.
I didn’t want the kiss to end, though. My tongue followed his into his mouth. I felt his excitement instantly. His hand on my back pulled me in tighter. Dropping the bag, his other hand went up to cradle my head. He held me there, kissing me back until I needed to pull away, gasping for air. His breath came harder too.
Oh, girl, you shouldn’t kiss like that. He nuzzled my neck.
Well, if you didn’t like it…I smiled shyly at him, picked up the bag and walked toward the powwow.
“My brother warned me about girls like you,” Kanaan joked and walked behind me on the trail as the aspens showered us with golden leaves.
“What did he say about girls like me?”
“Girls who like to kiss are keepers.”