He would have made a good teacher, she thought as she observed his patience with Danny, his obvious joy in sharing his knowledge of Native American myth and fact.
Would things have been different between them if Luke had been a teacher instead of a photographer? Would their marriage have fallen apart if he had gone to work each morning and come home each evening instead of flying off to all parts of the world for indefinite periods of time?
Dangerous thoughts, she chided herself as they moved from exhibit to exhibit. In any case, it didn't matter. Reality was that Luke wasn't a teacher. He was a man who thrived on living on the edge, needed the adventure of exotic places and strange faces.
Reality was she'd always needed more than he could give her, and there was no way to go back and reclaim what they had once had, what had been ruined between them.
Still, as she watched Luke and Danny together, she knew there was a very large piece of her heart that Luke would forever own. As her first love, as the father of her child, he held a place inside her that no other man would ever be able to usurp.
"Hey, Mom, come on. We're going outside to look at the teepees," Danny exclaimed. He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the door that led to the outside area of interest. "Dad said for us to go on out, that he'd be out in a minute."
Sherri grinned at her son's obvious excitement. "Are you having a good time?"
His blue eyes sparkled happily. "The best." He frowned suddenly, his gaze studying her. "Are you having a good time? I know you aren't too excited about Indians. Maybe we could find a dress shop or something for you to visit when we leave here."
Sherri laughed, her heart touched by her son's worry about her. "I'm crazy about this place and I'm having the very best time." She buttoned his coat, gave him a quick hug, then allowed herself to be pulled out the doorway and into the cold Oklahoma sunshine.
As they walked toward the first teepee, Sherri looked at her watch, surprised to realize it had taken them longer to go through the museum than she'd expected. They'd have just enough time to look at the teepees, then they needed to get on the road again so they could make their next campsite before dark.
As Danny explored the interior of the first Indian structure, Sherri saw Luke approach. For a moment, as he walked across the dusty ground toward her, her heart did a strange loop-de-loop in her chest.
With his long lean legs clad in worn jeans and his tanned features, he looked as if he belonged out here in the Wild West. Even his walk, that hip-rolling swagger reminded her suddenly of a gunslinger from out of history.
Why hasn't he gotten fat, or dissipated from too much alcohol? she thought with a touch of irritation. This whole trip would have been so much easier on her if he'd gotten unattractive since their divorce.
But instead, she found him as appealing as she ever had, with that sexy grin that threatened to steal her very breath away.
"Where's Danny?" he asked as he stopped next to her.
She gestured to the inside of the teepee. "I think he's pretending he's Big Chief Sitting Bull." She looked at her watch, then at Luke. "As soon as he finishes his exploration, we should get back on the road."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. There's been a change of plans."
"A change of plans?" She looked at him expectantly, her stomach clenching with nervousness. She hated unexpected change of any kind.
"At five o'clock, they put on a mock ceremonial dance. Danny would love it and since we're already here, we might as well stay to watch it."
"But we said we'd leave here by five," Sherri protested. "Otherwise, it will be too late by the time we get to the next campsite."
Luke shrugged. "So, we eat in the dark, or we stop at a closer camp." His jaw knotted ominously. "Sherri, don't make this into a big hassle. This is really important."
"Dad, come in and look," Danny said as he poked his head out of the teepee.
"Just a minute, son." Luke turned back to Sherri. "We're already here. What difference does an extra hour or hour and a half make?"
"But it will throw us completely off schedule." Panic crawled up into her throat.
"This is a vacation, Sherri. Not some damned schedule we must adhere to." His eyes blazed the cold blue she'd always dreaded.
"But—"
"Lighten up. That's your problem, Sherri. You ruin all the fun with your damned schedules. You've always been so rigid." He didn't wait for her answer, but instead turned on his heels and disappeared into the teepee.
Sherri glared after him, a combination of hurt and anger boiling inside her. It was an old fight…one they had practiced too often. Bitter memories swelled in her head. He'd always accused her of being too rigid. "Loosen up, Sherri. Be spontaneous." How many times in their marriage had she heard those words.
He had some nerve telling her she ruined everything with her schedules. He'd ruined their marriage because he could never adhere to a schedule.
She remembered all the dinners ruined, all the plans aborted because Luke had no structure, no discipline in his life. How many hours of their marriage had she spent waiting for a phone call, waiting for him to come home. His impetuousness, his spontaneity had made her crazy, had made her unable to depend on anything in her life. Uncertainty had been the rule of thumb in their marriage, and it had eventually crumbled them.
Oh, yes, he had some nerve. As if demanding his presence for dinner had been her being rigid, had been too much to expect.
She leaned against the wooden railing nearby and watched as Danny and Luke made their way from one teepee to the next.
Although Luke's words burned her stomach like a painful ulcer, she didn't mind staying the extra time for Danny. He'd get a real kick out of seeing a ceremonial dance.
Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from the fence and joined the two males as they left the second teepee and headed for the third. "Did Dad tell you?" Danny asked. "There's going to be an Indian dance in just a little while. Dad says we can stay for it. We can, can't we?" His blue eyes reflected his desire.
"Oh course we can," she agreed, rubbing her hand lightly across the peach fuzz on his scalp, which over the last two days had begun to show the dark shadow of new hair growth. "How could I even think of letting Little Chief Flying Eagle miss out on a real Indian dance."
Danny grinned his obvious relief as Sherri exchanged a cool glance with Luke. "This means we'll probably have to eat sandwiches tonight for dinner," she told her son. "It will be too late by the time we get to a campsite to make a fire, or anything."
"That's okay," Danny agreed easily. "We don't have to have a fire and be outside every night, and I don't care what we have for dinner."
Sherri nodded, knowing at least the latter part was true. Danny's appetite hadn't been good for the past several months…a constant reminder of the disease that stole his strength, caused dark shadows beneath his bright eyes, the disease that was the only reason she and Luke were together again…at least for three weeks.
"You aren't too cold, are you, Danny?" Sherri asked, pulling his coat closer around his neck.
"Nah, I'm fine," he exclaimed, dancing out of her reach with excitement.
By the time they had gone through the third teepee, a group of tourists had begun to gather on a small set of bleachers at the edge of a large clearing. "We'd better take a seat," Luke said.
Sherri nodded. She hadn't spoken to him since his comment about her rigidness. She was still angry with him and frustrated because that anger couldn't be vented in front of Danny. As they sat down on the bench, she made sure Danny sat between them, knowing she was being childish, but unable to ignore the stinging hurt Luke had evoked in her.
He'd made her remember their failure, their differences in priorities, the dreams that had been shattered beneath the reality of living together every day.
Worse, he'd made her remember her own faults, her own weaknesses that had played a part in the dissolution of their love.
Initially, immediately after
the divorce, it had been easy to blame Luke for the marriage failure. It had been easy to focus on the pain, to point a finger at him. It was only after the first year that Sherri had found the strength to look inward and realize her own culpability.
At the sound of a drum beating rhythmically in the distance, Sherri pulled her thoughts away from the distant past and focused on the building where a group of Indians emerged.
"Wow," Danny breathed in awe, sitting up straighter on the seat to get a better view of the traditionally garbed and painted Native Americans.
Seeing the wonder and excitement on Danny's face made Sherri realize Luke was right. It had been important that they stay and give Danny the opportunity to experience this piece of Americana and history.
She offered Luke a tentative smile, pleased when he gave it back to her. There wasn't enough time to get caught up in the destructive patterns of their past. They didn't have time to fight and hold grudges, to feel bad or entertain regrets and hurl recriminations. There was no time for their personal problems. Danny didn't have time.
With a sigh of relief, Sherri settled back in the seat, her attention torn between the spectacle going on before them and Danny's reaction to it.
It was a fascinating show. The Native Americans performed several traditional dances, amazing everyone with the intricate patterns of movement and difficult dance steps. They explained the traditions and customs that went along with each dance, delighting and educating the audience.
It was nearing the end of the performance when the man in the chief's headdress stepped forward, called Danny's name and asked him to step down from the bleachers.
Danny looked first at Sherri, then at Luke for assurance. When they nodded, he went to where the chief awaited him.
"The Great Spirits in the sky sent me a dream that told me you would be coming," the chief said, looking down at Danny with kind, dark eyes. "They spoke to me of your bravery, of your generosity, of your courage in the face of adversity."
Danny's thin chest puffed up with pride as his gaze sought his mother's and father's once again. He looked back at the chief, his little body practically vibrating with excitement.
"The Spirits told me of your affinity with flight," the chief continued, "of your desire to soar like a bird in the vast blue of the sky." Danny nodded solemnly.
"For this reason, the Great Spirits instructed me to assign you the eagle as your spirit guide." The chief handed Danny a rawhide shield with the picture of an eagle hand-painted on it. "In the name of the Great Spirits, I name you Little Chief Flying Eagle and give you this eagle feather as your talisman against evil." He handed Danny a large feather, then smiled. "And now, Little Chief Flying Eagle will join us in our dance of celebration."
As the drummers began banging a new rhythm, the chief took Danny by the hand. Sherri's eyes misted with tears as she watched her son trying to match his steps to the intricate movements of the chief's. She swiped at her eyes and turned to Luke. "You arranged this, didn't you?"
Luke shrugged and looked back at his son. "I just explained Danny's situation and they took it from there." His eyes were a deep, midnight blue as they turned to gaze at her. "It won't make him well, but…" His voice broke up and Sherri automatically leaned into him.
As his arm encircled her, she realized how much in the past year she had longed for strong arms to hold her close, to share the burden of her pain.
She now also realized that she hadn't needed just any pair of male arms…she had needed Luke's. Only he knew the depth of her love for Danny, only he knew her rage at Danny's illness. Only he knew the intensity of her despair. He knew because he felt the same way. And there was comfort in the mere act of sharing with him, comfort in being in his arms.
His hand stroked down her back, then up, lingering at the sensitive area just beneath her ear. As his fingers absently stroked, a new, distinctly uncomfortable sensation began to build in the pit of her stomach. She could feel the softness of his fingers, evoking a familiar heat inside her, threatening to engulf her.
"Ah…the camera," she said, desperately scooting away from him and reaching for the case at her feet. Her hands trembled as she removed the camera from the nylon bag. Her neck still burned with the imprint of his caress and she refused to look at him as she steadied herself to take some pictures.
"Here, let me." He gently took the camera from her. "You never could take a decent picture," he murmured.
She watched as he expertly focused and snapped a series of pictures. He caressed the instrument, made love to it as if it were a living, breathing thing. And he got it to perform magic beneath his loving touch.
Just as he's always evoked magic in me with his skillful hands and gentle touch, she thought. A heated blush raced over her features and she tore her gaze away from him.
She exhaled in relief as the performance ended and Danny came racing back toward them. "Did you see me?" he asked, dancing up and down as he clutched his feather and shield to his chest. "Did you see me dancing with the chief? Oh, wow, I'll never forget this in a million years."
Sherri grinned at her son. "I never knew you were so talented. They should have named you Dancing Bear."
"Mom!" Danny exclaimed, but his face shone with obvious pride. "Dancing Bear is a girl name. But Little Chief Flying Eagle is the name of a brave." Again his chest puffed up with pride.
"Well, Little Chief Flying Eagle, we'd better get on the road or we'll never make it to our campsite before the Great Spirits take you to dreamland." Luke threw an arm around Danny's shoulder, then placed his other one around Sherri. Together, the three of them headed to their motor home.
* * *
"How come whenever we talk about memories, you never tell any of yours, Mom?" Danny asked. It was nearly ten o'clock and they were seated at the small table, eating ham-and-cheese sandwiches.
"Memories of what?" she asked, noting the dark bruising beneath Danny's eyes, the pinched exhaustion of his features. The day might have been exciting for him, but it had obviously been too much. His shoulders drooped and he'd barely touched his sandwich. He'd also developed a slight runny nose.
"You know, junk like when you were a kid and stuff like that." Danny looked at her curiously. "Dad always tells stories of when he was young, but you never do. How come?"
Sherri leaned back in the chair, a frown furrowing her forehead as she thought back over her childhood. She never talked about it because she didn't often want to think about it. But she could see Danny wanted an answer, deserved an answer. "Sweetheart, my childhood wasn't very happy," she began softly.
"How come? What wasn't happy?" Danny's gaze remained unwavering and Sherri felt Luke's gaze on her, as well. She suddenly realized that in all the years they had been married, she'd never told him anything about her life with her parents.
"My parents were alcoholics, Danny," she finally answered. "They drank a lot…all the time, for as long as I can remember."
"And that made you have bad memories?" he asked curiously.
She hesitated, old images flying through her mind. She finally nodded. "Yes, most of my recollections of growing up are very sad." She reached over and patted Danny's hand. "All my good memories started when I married your dad and had you. Now my good memory bank is full of happy, loving thoughts and times that make me all warm inside."
"I'm glad." Danny smiled sweetly, sleepily. "I want you to always have happy memories of me."
"And now, my little man, I think it's time for bed for you," Luke said gruffly. He picked Danny up in his arms, the little boy curling up without complaint against the contours of Luke's body.
"But I didn't take a bath," Danny protested weakly as Luke placed him on the top bunk.
"That's okay. You can take two tomorrow," Luke said. He tucked Danny beneath the sheet, then walked to where Sherri still sat at the table.
"How about another cup of coffee?" she offered.
"Why don't we take it outside? Danny's already asleep and we can talk for a li
ttle while out there without fear of disturbing him."
Sherri hesitated a moment, then agreed. Besides, she wasn't the least bit sleepy. The thoughts of her childhood had made her restless. She poured the coffee and together they went outside.
The motor home was parked near a picnic table and it was there that Luke led her and they sat down across from each other.
Sherri took a sip of her coffee, then leaned her head back and looked up at the skies overhead. The moon was almost full and the stars were bright, appearing to hang so low in the sky, she felt that if she just stretched up high enough, she could capture one in the palm of her hand.
"Why didn't you ever tell me about your parents before?" Luke's low voice split the silence of the night.
Sherri looked at him, noting how the moonlight stroked his features, softened the hard angles and shadowed his eyes. "I don't know…it just never seemed that important."
"Tell me about them now."
She emitted a sharp burst of laughter, surprised by the bitter aftertaste. "What's to tell? They drank and I survived."
"How old were you when they started to drink?"
Memory after memory spilled into Sherri's mind. She closed her eyes for a moment. She jumped in surprise as she felt Luke's hand enfold hers warmly. She opened her eyes, saw that his were sympathetic and suddenly she wanted to tell him, wanted to share the horror of her childhood with him.
"I can't remember a time when they didn't drink," she began. "Some days I'd come home from school and everything would be okay. Mom would be cooking dinner and Dad would be reading the paper and everything would be just fine, normal. Then I'd wake up in the middle of the night to screaming and fighting or drunken laughter and music. I never knew what to expect with them. Just when I thought things were fine, everything went crazy."
She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly chilled despite the warmth of her coat. Slices of memories flashed in her mind…coming home from school and finding her mom passed out in the middle of the living-room floor…her dad waking her up in the middle of the night to cook them bacon and eggs because they were hungry.
Anything for Danny Page 5