A Father's Vow

by Myrna Temte

  Surely once she’d explained all of that to Sam, he would understand why she’d invited another couple along on their first date. Wouldn’t he?

  Sam stood on Julia’s front porch, wearing the moccasins Sara Talkhouse had beaded for him, along with his best jeans, his blue shirt and a leather vest. Free of his hard hat for once, he’d braided his hair and wrapped the ends of his braids with cloth strips that matched his shirt. He wouldn’t be much of an Indian dancer, but at least he would look like a Cheyenne.

  He’d eagerly anticipated his first date with Julia all day, but now that the moment had finally arrived, he was mortified to discover he wasn’t too old for sweaty palms, or the sudden and complete inability to think of an intelligent thing to say that he’d experienced as a teenager. He cleared his throat, stood up straight and forced himself to knock on her door. Long before he was ready, he heard quick, light footsteps moving toward him.

  Julia opened the door and gave him a sweet yet hesitant smile. “Hi, Sam.”

  Stepping inside, he admired her flowing skirt, the silver concho belt cinching her narrow waist, the soft, white blouse and long beaded necklace, her dark hair hanging halfway down her back. She was one of those women made to pleasure a man’s eyes—slender, but nicely curved all the same; strong, but delicate enough to make a man want to protect her with his own greater physical strength; feminine in a hundred small ways that made a man glad to be male.

  “Would you, um, like a soda or some iced tea?”

  She sort of flitted across the room, straightening a stack of magazines that had been perfectly fine, plucking a leaf from a potted ivy, fluffing a sofa pillow. Realizing she was as nervous as he was, Sam relaxed.

  “No, thanks,” he said. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  “Thank you.” She gave him a quick once-over, then smiled. “You look nice, too.”

  “Are you ready to go?”

  “Not exactly. You see, I invited some friends to come with us. You know Janie Carson from the Hip Hop, and Reed Austin, the new sheriff’s deputy?”

  Unable to believe what he’d just heard, Sam frowned at her. “You did what?”

  “I invited Janie and Reed to come with us tonight,” she repeated, her cheeks flushing. “They should be here in about ten minutes. Come on in and sit down while we wait for them. Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?”

  Sam shook his head. “No, thanks,” he repeated.

  He did walk farther into the room, however, and sat in a big, overstuffed chair. Julia perched on the sofa, knees together, feet tucked neatly to one side. In a way, she looked very ladylike, but somehow she reminded Sam of a little bird poised to fly away at the first sign of danger. Good Lord, she wasn’t really afraid of him, was she?

  Discreetly clearing her throat, she fiddled with the beaded necklace. “I didn’t mean to change our plans without consulting you, but Janie’s been pretty down lately, and there are some special circumstances involved.”

  “Mind telling me what they are?” Sam said.

  By the time Julia finished explaining about Janie and J. D. Cade and the mess out at the Kincaid Ranch, Sam didn’t know whether to laugh or cuss. He wondered if Wayne had any idea how much speculation he’d caused in Whitehorn, and how many people were seriously concerned about him. While he was disappointed to have to share the evening with the other couple, Sam supposed he couldn’t blame Julia for wanting to help her friend.

  Still, hauling around two whites at an Indian dance, one of whom was a deputy sheriff, would hardly encourage some of the folks he’d wanted Julia to visit with, to be very forthcoming. Indian men were sometimes harassed out here by law enforcement officials. As a result, most white cops weren’t terribly popular on the res. Julia didn’t understand that, of course, but it was a lesson she was going to learn if she lived at Laughing Horse very long.

  “Do you understand why I invited them?” she asked.

  Sam nodded. “It’s all right, Julia. Don’t worry about it.”

  Janie and Reed arrived then, and Sam did his best to be congenial. He’d always liked Janie whenever she’d waited on him and his crew. Austin was quiet and reserved, and at least he’d had the sense to dress out of uniform, so he looked enough like any other cowboy to blend in. The guy was so obviously smitten with Janie, Sam couldn’t help feeling a certain amount of affinity with him.

  Julia and Janie kept up a lively conversation on the short drive to the powwow grounds. The dance had already started by the time they arrived, the drummers and singers filling the air with songs and rhythms, some of which were centuries old. They wandered around the periphery of the dance area at first, talking, laughing and checking out the food concessions.

  When the drummers played the song to which Maggie and Dan had taught Julia to dance, of course, she had to get into the circle and show off her new skill—and drag the rest of the foursome in with her. Janie easily picked up the simple steps, but poor Reed never did quite get the hang of it. He was good-natured enough to laugh at himself, though, which was another point in his favor as far as Sam was concerned.

  They stuffed themselves with fry bread and Indian tacos, danced some more and enjoyed mingling with the crowd. Sam heard his name called and turned toward a row of tables and chairs set up on the grass. Jackson Hawk waved, then motioned for Sam to come and join his family. A small whirlwind launched himself at Sam’s knees as he led the way to the Hawks’ table.

  Scooping Franklin into his arms and holding him high overhead had become a favorite game between Sam and the toddler. His black eyes shining with mischief, Franklin grinned down into Sam’s face. Sam bent his elbows enough for them to rub noses, then nearly dropped the little guy when Franklin spotted Julia and lunged at her with a glad cry.

  “Julia, Julia, guess what?”

  Julia took Franklin into her arms and balanced him on her hip as if she’d done this many times before. “What is it, Franklin?”

  “My mama is gonna get real, real fat.”

  Jackson hooted with laughter. Maggie let out an indignant yelp. Julia struggled to keep a straight face.

  “Why do you think that, sweetie?”

  “’Cause my daddy planted this seed thing, and she’s growin’ a little tiny baby inside her belly,” Franklin said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, while he poked at one of Julia’s earrings with a chubby finger, watching it swing back and forth. “But the baby’s gonna grow and grow and make her belly get real, real fat. Daddy said.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  Julia shot Maggie a huge smile. Maggie shrugged and gave a what-can-I-possibly-say sort of grin. Jackson just beamed in that sappy way happily married men had when they’d just learned “the wife” was pregnant. Sam pounded him on the back and tried not to feel too jealous of his friend’s obvious joy.

  “Congratulations,” Julia said. “You’re going to be a big brother, and I know you’ll be an excellent one.”

  “Of course. I will love my baby,” Franklin said.

  Wrapping his arms around her neck, he gave her a fierce hug. She patted his little back, rubbed her cheek against his hair and closed her eyes as if she was blocking out all other distractions and concentrating her senses on absorbing his sweet affection. The picture the two of them made together stole Sam’s breath.

  For that one moment, he had a vision, a real, honest-to-God, Indian vision of Julia holding a baby. She loved that tiny, black-eyed, black-haired baby with her whole heart and soul, and so did he. It was his baby, too, his and Julia’s, and Julia was his wife, his woman. They were his family.

  He wanted the vision to be true. Wanted it so much his chest hurt and his throat contracted in a dry, hard gulp. The picture wavered, and he realized he’d better start breathing or he was going to pass out.

  Then the real Julia opened her pretty blue eyes and looked straight at him, and he felt disoriented and stupid for thinking of her in those terms. She didn’t belong in his world. She could visit and work here. She might even la
st the whole school year if the bleakness of a reservation winter didn’t drive her away.

  But ultimately, she would leave and go back to the mainstream of American society. She’d grown up there and had already proven she could make it on her own among whites. Hell, look at her tonight, hanging out with her white friends even at an Indian dance.

  Not that he had anything personal against either Janie or Reed. They were both nice, and they had shown appropriate respect for his people and their customs. They were simply a painful reminder that Julia undoubtedly would choose their world in the long run.

  He just had to remember that, but he kept wanting to forget it. His vision had been a warning sign that he was losing perspective again. But God, it had been so clear, so real…

  A beeper went off somewhere in the vicinity. Reed muttered something, plucked a small black box from the side of his belt and checked the number display.

  “I need to call in,” he said.

  “I’ve got a cell phone in my pickup,” Jackson said.

  The two men hurried off. Grateful for the interruption to his troubled thoughts, Sam turned to Maggie and pulled out a chair for her.

  “How are you feeling, little mama?” he asked when everyone was seated.

  “I’m fine, Sam.” Maggie wrinkled her nose at him. “I’m past the morning sickness now, so all I have to do is watch myself get real, real fat.”

  Smiling, Sam shook his head. “I remember when you were almost ready to have Franklin, and you didn’t look fat to me. You looked very happy and very beautiful.”

  “Flattery will get you an invitation to dinner,” Maggie said with a laugh. She leaned across the table and pointed at Julia’s necklace. “That’s beautiful. It’s new, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, my grandmother made it for me.” With the leather string still around her neck, Julia scooped the tiny beaded pouch into her right palm, giving Maggie a better view. “She said I should wear it every day, and I just can’t resist it. Can you believe how intricate the stitches have to be to get all those little beads just right?”

  Franklin climbed into Sam’s lap, and Sam entertained him while the women continued to discuss the coming baby. Jackson and Reed returned a moment later. Jackson sat down beside Maggie, but Reed remained standing, his eyes somber as he gazed at Janie.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” he said.

  “There’s trouble again, isn’t there?” Janie said. “At the Kincaid place?”

  Reed hesitated, then nodded and said quietly, “They’ve found some more dead cattle. Since it’s my case, I need to have a look at the scene while it’s still fresh.”

  “Let me come with you, Reed.”

  “I can’t, Janie. It’s official business.”

  “But what about Dale? What if he’s been hurt again?”

  “I’m sure he’s fine. There were no injuries to people.” Reed looked over at Sam. “I really should get going. Would you mind giving me a lift back to Julia’s place so I can get my rig?”

  “You bet,” Sam said, handing Franklin to his father. “We’ll give Janie a ride home when the dance is over, too.”

  “Couldn’t we all just leave now, please?” Janie asked anxiously. “Dale will try to call me as soon as he can.”

  Within minutes they arrived at Julia’s house. Reed jumped out of the rear seat of Sam’s truck and hurried to his Jeep. Sam followed him to the turnoff for Kincaid Ranch, but continued into Whitehorn and deposited Janie at her apartment. Once Janie disappeared from view, Julia turned to Sam and heaved a disgruntled sigh.

  “Well, that put a dent in the evening, didn’t it?”

  “I guess you could look at it that way,” Sam said.

  “I suppose you’re going to tell me some other way I could look at it?”

  “I’m not exactly sorry to have some time alone with you. Where would you like to go now?”

  Julia smiled. “Surprise me. You must know some interesting spots on the reservation I haven’t seen yet.”

  “All right, but keep your seat belt fastened. The road might get a little rough.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Julia gasped at the sensation of flight—sensation, hell, when the pickup’s tires lost contact with the earth they were flying. Sam laughed and gunned the engine. Put some men behind the wheel of a big truck and they become maniacs; inconceivable as it seemed for a logical, staid engineer, Sam was one of them.

  Part of her wanted to hit him for scaring her so much; another part was having the adventure of her life. Here was yet another Sam Brightwater she’d never met before.

  This one was carefree and reckless, but he drove with such confident skill, she believed she was perfectly safe—until the next time the truck went airborne and the bottom of her stomach dropped out. He’d been so sweet about including Janie and Reed in their plans tonight, she had already been disposed to feel affectionate toward him. But now…she felt drawn to him in a deeper, much more elemental way.

  In an earlier age, this man would have raced bareback across the plains on the fastest horse he could find. He would have been a warrior, delighting in counting coups on his enemies and raiding the Kiowa, the Comanche or the Crow. He willingly would have laid down his life to protect and provide for his family and his tribe.

  It didn’t matter if his horse was now a pickup, if his arrows and rifles had become his education and his business skills, if he raided to gain construction contracts instead of horses and captives. He was still a warrior in spirit, dedicating his life to the well-being of his people.

  His teeth flashed white in the gathering darkness as he made a hard right turn. Engine roaring, he drove straight up the side of a steep hill, then slammed on the brakes when the truck leveled out again. The seat belt caught at the sudden stop, cutting into her chest and holding her against the seat.

  “A little rough?” she said when the truck finished its violent rocking and her head quit spinning. “That’s what you call a little rough, Brightwater?”

  He let out a big, booming laugh, then reached over and freed her from the seat belt. “Sorry. I always forget how bad that track is.”

  “Where are we?”

  “On top of the world.” Opening his door, he stepped out of the truck, reached behind the seat and grabbed an old army-surplus blanket. Then he held out his other hand to her in invitation. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  She slid across the bench seat and followed him to a fallen log near the edge of a steep bluff. A three-quarter moon shone on the valley floor, painting shimmering patches of water in the gaps between the trees and bushes growing along the river’s curving banks. A heaven full of stars poked holes in the night sky, mimicked by scattered lights on the ground far below.

  He spread the blanket on the log, and they sat down, shoulders lightly touching, a companionable silence falling over them. A soft breeze carried the smells of freshly cut hay and a hint of pine. Somewhere in the distance a bird let out a lonely two-note cry.

  Julia crossed one leg over the other, smoothed down her long skirt and linked her hands around her raised knee. Moments as peaceful as this were so rare in her life, she treasured them when they came along. She sighed, and when Sam put his arm around her shoulders, it seemed perfectly natural to snuggle against him.

  “What is this place?” she asked.

  “It’s seano. A ghost or a spirit place.”

  “Whose ghost?”

  “The buffalo, I guess,” Sam said. “This is an old buffalo jump.”

  She shuddered at the mental image of hundreds of the big, shaggy beasts plunging over the ledge and falling to their deaths on the rocks below. “Now there’s a romantic image.”

  “You want romantic?” Pulling her closer to his side, he uttered a soft laugh and made a broad, sweeping gesture with his free hand. “Then think about that whole valley down there with nobody in it but Indians and animals. The air is sweet and clean. The water is pure. There’s a big circle of tepees at one end of the meadow, because t
he whole tribe has gathered together for the yearly hunt.” He turned his head and smiled at her. “How am I doing so far?”

  “Much better. Go on.”

  “Against your mama’s orders, you have slipped out to meet your young man. Tomorrow, he will go on the hunt with the other men. Riding into a herd is always dangerous, and you might never see him again. That’s what he tells you, anyway.”

  “Men used lines even back then, did they?”

  Laughing again, he shifted around to face her more directly and stroked the side of her cheek with his fingertips. “Oh, yeah. Some of ’em must have worked pretty well, too.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Well, the tribe’s still here. Considering how hard some people tried to wipe us out, there must have been a lot of serious procreating going on for the Cheyenne to survive at all.”

  Julia used her index finger to trace around a button on his leather vest. “Then I suppose it’s a good thing Cheyenne men are so charming.”

  He sat up a little straighter and his chest expanded. “You think we’re charming, eh?”

  “Some of you are.” She grinned at the memory of the first few times she’d met him and added, “My dad is. Jackson is. Even you can be charming, Sam. When you work really hard at it.”

  His eyes took on a wicked glint. He lowered his arm from her shoulders to her waist and scooped her onto his lap. The back of her skirt didn’t quite make the transition, and it bunched up between her bottom and her waist. The rough denim of his jeans scraped against the backs of her bare thighs.

  Before she could collect her thoughts or straighten her skirt, he tipped her backward over his arm and smothered any protest she might have made with a hot, driving kiss that blanked every thought from her mind but a fierce, irresistible need to kiss him back. In the space of a heartbeat, he took her from a playful, flirtatious mood to one of toe-curling, heart-thumping, breath-stealing delight.