by Myrna Temte
Daniel chuckled. “Aw, this weather ain’t so bad. There’s a storm comin’, but it won’t get here for a while. My arthritis tells me that much.”
“I don’t care about the weather, Dad.”
“I know you don’t.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “But you know I can’t make such decisions for you. You love Sam?”
She nodded miserably. “I don’t know why. He can be such a jerk sometimes, but there’s a…sweeter side to him, too. He doesn’t show it very often, but when he does…”
“That’s the way most men are, Nahtona. For Sam, it’s especially hard to speak of his emotions.”
“Why?”
“He’s been on his own almost his whole life. Even when his folks were alive, they were so wrapped up in their own problems, they didn’t pay much attention to him or his sister. It’s a miracle he came out of that house with his head on straight enough to get himself some schoolin’.”
“I didn’t even know he had a sister,” Julia said.
Daniel shook his head sadly. “No. He don’t hardly talk about his family. It’s not my place to tell you about it, but I know there wasn’t much love to be had for either one of those kids.”
Julia’s heart ached at the idea of Sam growing up in such a home. And when she thought of how the tribe’s children always flocked to him, she ached even more. He was giving all of those children the attention he’d never had for himself as a child. Most people couldn’t do that; most people couldn’t even conceive of doing that. Then another idea hit her, one that lightened her heart with the possibility of hope.
She told her father what Sam had said about love. “Do you think Sam could learn to love me and the baby?”
“Hell, girl, I’d bet my whole business he already loves the both of you. All that other stuff is just a smoke screen. Haven’t you ever heard that old line about the best defense bein’ a good offense?”
“But what if you’re wrong? What if he can’t ever really accept us? What if he can’t learn to love us? If that happens, I don’t think I can live here.”
Daniel frowned. “Where would you go?”
“That would depend on where I can find a job. I’d try not to go too far. I want my baby to know you and Sam, but I couldn’t stay here all the time.”
Daniel smacked both palms on the table so hard, Julia flinched. Shoving back his chair, he stood, and leaned forward on his hands until his nose was on an even level with hers.
“No,” he said with a fierce scowl. “You can’t do this to Sam and you can’t take my only grandchild away. You stay put. I’ll be right back.”
Mystified and perhaps just a little afraid to disobey him, Julia stayed put. She could hear her father rummaging around in his bedroom, muttering to himself. Two minutes later he returned carrying a small, beaded leather pouch on a leather cord.
He stopped in front of her, then looped the cord around her neck. The pouch nestled between her breasts. She raised one hand to it, feeling something small and hard inside.
“Dad—”
“It’s a love charm,” he said gruffly. “Your grandmother made it for you. You wear it now, and Sam will fall in love with you for sure.”
Angered by his dictatorial attitude, Julia grasped the cord with both hands, intending to yank the charm off over her head. Daniel grasped her hands and held them down.
“Stop it,” she said. “Grandmother already gave me one that looks just like it. I wore it to that big dance I went to with Sam, but it obviously didn’t work.”
“So, maybe this one has stronger medicine in it.”
“But I don’t believe in charms.”
“Then it won’t hurt anything for you to wear this one, will it?” Daniel said.
She sighed in exasperation. “Even if I did believe something like this could work, I wouldn’t want it.”
“Why not? You say you love Sam. And you want him to love you back.”
“Yes, of course, but I want him to love me and the baby of his own free will. Forcing him with…magic or whatever is just not right. It’s not fair.”
Daniel snorted. “It’s fair for Sam to get you pregnant and walk away like it’s nothing?”
“He’s not just walking away. I told you he offered to marry me. I’m the one who’s refusing.”
“I understood all of that before,” Daniel said. “You won’t marry Sam because he doesn’t love you and the baby, so I give you the charm and he’ll love you both. You’ll get married. You’ll stay here. Everybody’s happy.”
“But, Dad—”
“No. I never got to tell you what to do when you were little, and I’m takin’ my turn now. You will stay here until that baby is born, and you will wear the charm. It’s good medicine.”
“Fine.” She let the little pouch fall between her breasts again. “But what if the tribal council fires me for being an unwed mother?”
“Then I guess you’ll have to come and live with me again, and I’ll have to resign on account of bein’ an unwed father.” Daniel gave her a wicked grin. “Sam, too.”
He looked so pleased with himself, Julia had to smile at him. He held his arms out to her. She stood and hugged him as tightly as she could. Daniel stroked her hair as he’d done earlier. The small act made her feel incredibly loved.
“Your mama ran away because she was afraid. Don’t do the same thing. Give Sam another chance, and it will all work out okay,” he said softly. “You’ll see.”
“All right.” She pulled away from him, then gathered up her coat and purse. “I’d better get going. I have a lot of schoolwork to do this weekend.”
Daniel walked her to the door and came out onto the top step with her.
Sticking his fingers into his back pockets, he studied the sky with a frown while she hurried to her car. “Go straight home,” he said. “That storm’s movin’ faster than I thought.”
“All right. Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t tell Sam about our talk this morning. Especially not about the charm.”
“Why not?”
“If he ever says he loves me, I want to be able to believe he loves me for myself. If you tell him about the charm, I’ll have to worry about the power of suggestion.”
Smiling, Daniel waved her off, then went back inside and grabbed his own coat and keys. He drove to his mother’s house, stomped the snow from his boots and went in the kitchen door, chuckling to himself. Sara looked up from the latest edition of her favorite tabloid when he sauntered into the room, poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from her.
“Good morning, son,” she said.
“Good morning, Mother,” he said. “Remember that little pouch you gave me the other day for Julia?”
“Of course. I made it, didn’t I?”
“Think it’d work as a love charm?”
She pursed her lips and considered his question for a moment before answering. “I already gave her one of those when she went to that dance with Sam. The one you’re talkin’ about is for after she’s married. It’s a fertility charm.”
Daniel spewed a mouthful of coffee across the table on a surprised laugh. Yelling at him, Sara rescued her paper and ran for a dishcloth.
“What’s so damn funny about that?” she demanded. “Most grandmothers have years to get all the gifts ready for graduations and weddins and such. I’m just tryin’ to catch up.”
“I think you maybe got the charms mixed up.”
“What?” Sara demanded. “Oh, I couldn’t have. I was real careful.”
Daniel shrugged. “Well, all I can tell you is that they’re not in love yet, but you’re gonna be a great-grandmother in about four more months.”
The snow started falling when Julia was still bouncing and jouncing ten miles from home. It didn’t bother her at first. Denver and its suburbs received lots of snow almost every year, and she was used to driving in it.
The flakes gradually came thicker and faster, wit
h an occasional gust of wind to swirl them against her windshield in disorienting clouds, forcing her to slow down. Gripping the steering wheel harder, she leaned forward, straining to see the road. Her bladder suddenly felt full, but the reservation had no such luxuries as rest stops, so she pushed on, mile after mile with no relief in sight.
She felt exhausted long before she got home, and once she arrived, she bolted straight for the bathroom. Stripping off her coat as she ran, she shoved down her slacks and panties and sat on the commode. Then, to her horror, she discovered that she was bleeding. Not a lot—thank God—but it was enough to know she needed medical attention.
The tribal clinic was closed for the weekend. She put in a call to the answering service for Lori Bains, the nurse-midwife who worked with Julia’s doctor, Kane Hunter. While waiting for the return phone call, Julia changed into clean clothes and forced herself to breathe deeply and stay calm.
Lori called back in ten minutes. After another five minutes of questioning Julia, Lori said, “The spotting you’re describing can happen for any number of reasons. We need to see you as soon as possible, but I don’t want you to come into Whitehorn by yourself, and I really don’t want you to take any chances with this weather. Do you know anybody with four-wheel drive who could bring you in?”
“Yes,” Julia said. “I’ll call him right away. I’ll let you know if we can come to town.”
“Okay, kiddo. In the meantime, try to stay off your feet and rest as much as you can.”
After only a moment’s hesitation, Julia dialed Sam’s number.
He picked up on the second ring.
“Hello, Sam? I need your help. Could you possibly drive me into town right away? I, um…I need to go to the hospital.”
Sixteen
“She needs me,” Sam muttered.
Torn between elation that Julia had asked for his help and sheer terror for her well-being and the baby’s, Sam drove as fast as he dared toward Julia’s house. The snow came down thick and fast, covering his windshield between swipes of the wipers, while the wind whipped and shoved the excess into drifts along the sides of the road. It was nothing his pickup couldn’t handle so far, but he sure hoped it wouldn’t get much worse.
“She needs me,” Sam repeated, bolstering his courage at the prospect of seeing Julia again.
He’d been trying to get a reaction out of her for days and days, but she hadn’t responded to a single gift he’d sent her. He knew she hadn’t pitched them straight into the nearest trash can, but his certainty of that was only due to his extensive network of spies among the children at the school. He would have sent her an elephant if he’d thought it would get her to talk to him again. Man, but she was one stubborn woman.
“She needs me.”
Yeah, she was stubborn, all right, but he wanted her as much as he wanted the tribe to survive. He could live without her or the tribe, but his life would be so lonely and barren, he doubted it would be worth much more than the most basic existence to him. With them, his life would be enriched with love and sharing, family and friendships, a sense of belonging and the continuity of generations.
“Please, Maheo, don’t let me mess up with that woman again. She needs me.”
He arrived at Julia’s house, left the engine running and slogged through the snow to her front door.
“Are you all right?” he asked when she opened the door for him. Then he shook his head to clear it. “Dumb question. You’re going to the hospital. Of course you’re not all right.”
He stomped the snow off his boots, stepped inside and gave her a quick but thorough once-over. She looked a little pale and scared, but well enough otherwise. He wanted to hold her for a minute, but he didn’t dare.
“Hello, Sam,” she said. “Thanks for coming.”
“No problem.” He struggled to make his voice sound as calm as hers did, but without much success. “You ready?”
She glanced outside, then turned back to him with a worried frown. “Are you sure we can make it?”
Shrugging, he shifted his weight from his right foot to his left. “Yeah. You still want to go, don’t you?”
“Yes, but the spotting’s stopped for now and Lori said not to take any chances with the weather. I’d hate to get stuck in a blizzard.”
“I never get stuck.” Sam rubbed his hands together, then crammed them into the pockets of his parka for fear of looking nervous. He was nervous, of course, but Julia didn’t need to know that. “Want any help getting your stuff together?”
“There’s not that much.” She put on her own parka and pulled the hood up over her head. “I have a few toiletries in my purse and I’ll take my school satchel so I can grade papers if I have to wait for tests or anything.”
Sam grabbed the satchel and slung the strap over his left shoulder, then handed Julia her purse and scooped her up into his arms. Ignoring her startled squawk, he locked her front door and carried her out to the truck. He carefully set her down inside and fastened her safety belt. After digging around behind the front seat, he brought out the sleeping bag he kept there for emergencies, opened it up and tucked it in around her.
“Think you’ll be warm enough?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s nice.” She gave him a shy smile and his heart stuttered a beat. “Thank you.”
“Need anything else?” Damn, now his voice sounded husky. She could turn him inside out without even trying.
“Not right now,” she said.
He hurried around to the driver’s side, climbed in and headed for Whitehorn. There was enough tension in the cab to kill any urge for conversation. Sam suspected it was probably just as well. This storm was turning into a monster and he needed to concentrate. He’d driven to Whitehorn so many times, he probably could have done it blindfolded, but he didn’t want to take any chances with Julia and the baby.
The windshield started fogging around the corners. Sam turned up the defroster and drove on. The wind kicked up, slamming against the truck so hard it practically blew them into the fast lane. He’d seen a lot of weird weather in Montana, but he’d never seen snow fall quite this horizontally before.
He turned on the headlights, hoping for better visibility. Then he pumped the brakes until they were barely crawling, hoping the slower speed would give them more stability. Thank God he wasn’t driving a semi or hauling any kind of a trailer.
And then he saw it—a flash of red—there one instant and gone in the next belch of snow. Had to be a taillight. He couldn’t begin to guess how far ahead the other vehicle might be, but the fact that he’d seen it at all told him it was too damn close for comfort.
He tapped his brakes, heard Julia’s gasp and saw the rear end of the gasoline bulk truck in such rapid succession, it seemed as if it all happened at once. The ditch provided the only possible escape from a collision, and Sam took it without a heartbeat’s hesitation. The other driver chugged on through the storm, undoubtedly unaware of the accident happening behind him.
Sam figured the ride to the bottom would have been a lot rougher if they’d been going at a normal speed and if the ditch hadn’t been lined with a thick cushion of snow. When they reached their final landing position with the pickup’s hood buried in a drift and the rear end facing the road, however, his heart still pounded to beat hell and sweat beaded his forehead.
Praying she wasn’t hurt, he slowly turned his head toward Julia. Her eyes were huge and she had both hands braced against the dash. At first glance she looked fine, but oh, dear God, the baby. What about the baby?
Fumbling with the clasp, Sam yanked off his seat belt, slid out from under the steering wheel and gently grasped her arms. “Do you have pain anywhere? Are you bleeding again? What can I do to help?”
“I’m okay, I think,” she said with a shaky laugh. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Scared sh—uh, spitless. But I’m not hurt.”
“Are we stuck here, Sam?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’ve got a real bad feeling I
never should’ve said never.” He raised trembling fingers and stroked the side of her face. “Sure you’re okay?”
“As sure as I can be at the moment.” She reached up and clasped his hand against her cheek. “We had a bumpy ride, but I know it beat the heck out of plowing into that big truck.”
A hard lump formed low in his throat, and he felt humbled and foolish that she should be reassuring him when it should have been the other way around. “God, I’m so sorry, Julia. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“I know that. You were trying to help me, and I really do appreciate it. Besides, we don’t even know for sure if we’re stuck yet, right?”
“Yeah. Right.” He moved back behind the wheel and tried every trick in his considerable repertoire to get the pickup moving again. Nothing budged. It was time to get out and see what he was up against. Besides, even if he couldn’t get them moving again, he had to make sure the tailpipe stayed clear or risk poisoning both of them with carbon monoxide.
Mentally going over everything he wanted to check once he left the cab, he zipped his parka, secured the hood over his head and yanked on a pair of heavy gloves. The icy wind stole his breath the instant he stepped outside. Snow pelted him from every direction, forcing him to squint in self-defense. Keeping one hand on the truck, he walked to the front, knelt on one knee and looked underneath.
Hell.
The front axle was bent around an egg-shaped boulder that explained the last nasty bump he’d felt. This truck wasn’t going anywhere without a tow. Cursing under his breath, he worked his way to the back end and tromped down all the snow around the exhaust. Then he struggled back to his door and hauled himself into the cab.
Simply getting out of the wind was a blessed relief. His gloves were half-frozen, making his hands and fingers incredibly awkward when he tried to untie his hood. Julia came to his rescue, knocking the ice clumps from the hood strings and tugging off the gloves. His fingers and the tip of his nose tingled in the sudden warmth of the cab.
“You were out there so long,” she said, briskly rubbing his hands between her palms. “You could have frozen.”