Navajo's Woman

by Beverly Barton

  “It happened while I was in New Mexico with friends, shortly before I married your. . .before I married Randall," Rosemary had explained. "He was a handsome young Navajo man, and we were instantly attracted to each other. The affair lasted for one glorious week. He was so smitten that he asked me to marry him. But, of course, that was out of the question. He was poor. I was rich. He was an Indian and I was—"

  "You were a bigot," Andi had all but screamed at her mother. "He was good enough to have sex with, but not good enough to marry."

  "I didn't love Russell," Rosemary had admitted. "It was hot sex and nothing more. I'm sorry, Andrea, but that's the truth."

  "Russell? His name is Russell. . .what?"

  "Lapahie. Russell Lapahie. He lived on the reservation. His dream was to be a Tribal police officer."

  "Is he still alive?" Andi had asked.

  "I have no idea." Rosemary had gasped when she re­alized her daughter's intentions. "You aren't thinking of trying to find him, are you? Darling, he has no idea you even exist."

  Two weeks after that revealing conversation with her mother, Andi had headed west. In search of a father who didn't know his brief affair with a vacationing Southern belle had resulted in a child. In search of a heritage that had been denied her, a birthright she had every intention of claiming. That had been five-and-a-half years ago.

  As Andi drove her white Ford Expedition up to the open gates at the end of the long stretch of road leading from the main highway, the Blackwood's house came into view. A sprawling, Spanish stucco built only seven years ago, the home of her dear friend Joanna seemed as wel­coming as ever. But just how welcome would she be, now that Joe was back and J.T. was joining forces with him to find their young kinsman, Joe's nephew and J.T.'s cousin?

  The moment she pulled up beside the vehicle she rec­ognized as Joe's rental car, Andi's stomach knotted pain­fully. He'd said his goodbyes to her at his sister's house and had assured her that he'd contact her when he had any news of Russ and Eddie. Despite her protests, Joe Ornelas had dismissed her and left for the Blackwood ranch shortly after lunch. If he'd thought she wouldn't follow him, then he didn't know her very well. Of course, he doesn't know you! an inner voice taunted. He never did.

  Before Andi's foot even hit the ground, Joanna Black­wood, round and rosy in her eighth month of pregnancy, came waddling out of the house. Her long red hair hung down her back in a cascading ponytail. Turquoise-and-silver earrings dangled in her ears, and a flowing white-and-aqua striped tent dress hit her mid-calf. Andi had al­ways thought that Joanna was a lovely woman, and the bloom of pregnancy only added to her beauty.

  "You were expecting me, weren't you?" Andi smiled as she approached her friend, who waited on the wide, expansive veranda.

  Grinning, Joanna nodded. "Joe arrived about an hour ago, so I assumed you wouldn't be far behind."

  “Where is he?'' Andi hugged Joanna, then pulled back, looked at her swollen tummy and gave it a gentle pat. "You're bigger than you were last week."

  "If the ultrasound hadn't shown us differently, I'd swear I was having twins again." Joanna placed both hands atop her stomach. "Joe's in the den with J.T. They're talking strategy. Want to join them?"

  Andi laughed as she laced her arm through Joanna's. “You know that Joe all but forbid me to interfere. He told me that he'd keep in touch through you or Kate, and in­form me when he had any news about the boys."

  "Typical macho man." Joanna led Andi inside, into the large, terra-cotta tiled foyer. "But my guess is that neither Joe nor J.T. will be surprised to see you. Espe­cially not my J.T. He's gotten to know you pretty well these past five years and he's acquainted with your mile-wide stubborn streak."

  "I'm not going to let Joe bully me. I have every right to be involved in the search. I may not have his qualifi­cations, but—"

  "Save your arguments for Joe. I'm on your side, re­member? We women have to stick together against our ultra-masculine Navajo males."

  "Joe isn't my Navajo male," Andi reminded her friend.

  Joanna eyed the silver-and-turquoise bracelet that adorned Andi's wrist. "Then why are you wearing his brand?"

  Why, indeed! Andi fingered the magnificent piece of jewelry, handcrafted by Joe and J.T.'s great-grandfather, Benjamin Greymountain. The sentimentally priceless bracelet had been a gift from Joe on her twenty-fifth birth­day, shortly before her father's death.

  "It's the most beautiful piece of jewelry I own, but I wore it today for a reason. I'm going to give it back to Joe. I would have given it to him five years ago, if he hadn't left in such a hurry. He didn't stick around long enough even to say goodbye."

  "And you still resent his speedy departure," Joanna commented. "Admit it to yourself, even if you won't ad­mit it to me—you still care about Joe. Otherwise, you'd already have found someone else."

  "I think we've had this conversation before, haven't we? But I'll tell you again—I don't care about Joe. He means nothing to me. And as you well know, I've had several interesting men in my life during the past few years, so that should prove I haven't been pining away for some lost love."

  "Just how many of those interesting men lasted longer than a couple of months?" Joanna asked. "Not one of those relationships got beyond the kissing—''

  Much to Andi's relief, Joanna's assessment of her love life, or lack thereof, was cut short by the interruption of two redheaded twin toddlers. Annabelle grabbed her mother's right leg as her brother Benjamin manacled the left. They gazed up at Andi with their father's dark eyes. Then a tall, lanky boy of six entered the foyer, halting abruptly when he saw his young siblings attached to Joanna.

  "Hi, Andi," the black-haired, green-eyed boy said. "Sorry, Mama, but they got away from me before I knew what was happening." John Thomas Blackwood acted if he were a grown-up, though he was nothing more than a child himself. J.T. and Joanna's eldest had been born an old soul, a protector and a caretaker. Every time Andi was around the boy she sensed his ancient spirit.

  "It's all right, honey. No one can keep up with these two." Joanna pried the twins away from her legs and grasped each one by a hand, keeping them separated by her body. Then she turned to Andi. "It's almost supper-time, so I need to get my brood cleaned up and ready to eat. You know where J.T.'s den is. Feel free to interrupt, and tell Joe and him that Rita will be serving dinner in about thirty minutes."

  "I intend to tell them more than that." Andi's voice was edged with tension.

  "What's wrong, Andi?" John Thomas asked. "Are you angry with my daddy?"

  "Good heavens, no," Andi said. "I'm angry with—"

  Joanna cleared her throat.

  "I'm a little annoyed with your cousin Joe," Andi amended.

  "I like Joe," John Thomas told her. "He brought me an Atlanta Braves cap and a baseball signed by Chipper Jones."

  Andi forced a smile. Joanna chuckled under her breath, then shooed her brood down the hall, leaving Andi alone in the foyer. Okay, get this over with, she told herself. Walk right into J.T.'s den and tell those infuriating, old-fashioned, domineering men that in order to represent the Lapahie family, you insist on having a personal involve­ment in the search for Russ and Eddie.

  J.T. handed Joe a bottle of beer, then sat across from him in a huge wing chair upholstered in a striking Navajo blanket-style fabric, a mate to Joe's chair. Joe liked the masculine look of the room, which he thought reflected his cousin's mixed heritage and his own unique person­ality quite well. It was obvious that the woman who had decorated this room not only knew J.T. well, but cared deeply for him. His cousin was a lucky man to have found someone like Joanna.

  Crossing one leg over the other, J.T. shook his head. "There's no evidence that the boys were involved in the crime."

  "Circumstantial evidence at best," Joe agreed. "They were seen running from Bobby Yazzi's home shortly after gunshots were fired, which places them with Bobby at the time of his death. And they haven't turned themselves in to the police, which makes them look guilty of somet
hing, even if they're not."

  "Do you think they're guilty of something other than being scared kids?" J.T. asked, then took a swig from his beer.

  Joe circled his thumb around the mouth of his bottle. "Eddie's never been in any kind of trouble. I know he couldn't have killed Bobby or even been a party to his murder. I'm sure he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

  "What about Russ?"

  "I don't know about that boy. The last thing I want is to believe that Russell's son has committed a crime. If I have to bring in Russ, it'll be like arresting Russell all over again. Is anybody going to believe that I want to help that boy, and not condemn him?''

  "'Anybody' being Andi Stephens?" J.T.'s lips curved up in a hint of a smile.

  "I saw her today," Joe said. "She was at Kate and Ed's when I arrived. She still hates me. Still blames me for what happened to Russell."

  "Russell Lapahie was a good man who made a bad mistake." J.T. rubbed his beer bottle back and forth be­tween the palms of his hands. "You did the legally re­sponsible thing. You were a police officer with a sworn duty. Russell committed a crime. He was wrong. You were right."

  "Yeah, sure." Joe set his beer on the round wooden side table that separated the matching chairs, then stood and walked over to the big window facing the U-shaped veranda that circled the back of the house. “If I was right, then why did everyone I knew—except you and Joanna and Kate and Ed—turn against me? Why did even my fellow officers look at me as if I'd been the one who committed the crime?"

  "Everyone liked Russell. He was a respected man in the Navajo community. At the time Russell killed himself, people reacted emotionally. Today, I don't think anyone blames you for what happened. In retrospect, they realize that Russell took the easy way out and that what you did took courage and strong convictions."

  "Andi still blames me. And I'm sure Doli and Russ do, too. I doubt I can ever redeem myself in their eyes."

  "And is that what you want to do—redeem yourself with Russell's family?"

  "Maybe. I don't know."

  J.T. stood, walked over and laid his hand on Joe's back. "When we find Eddie and Russ and prove they weren't involved with Bobby's murder, that should go a long way in helping you get back into Andi's good graces."

  "What Andi thinks of me doesn't matter. Not anymore. But what happens if when we find the boys, it turns out that Russ did kill Bobby Yazzi? What do I do then? I'm not a police officer now. To whom do I owe my alle­giance?”

  When Andi approached J.T.'s den, she found the door standing wide open, revealing the backs of the two men silhouetted by the late-afternoon sunshine pouring in through the window that faced west. J.T. was tall and lean, an inheritance from his bilgaana father. Joe, a full-blood Navajo, was an inch shy of six feet and more stockily built. His skin was a shade darker, his hair a rich blue-black. There had been a time when her heart skipped a beat whenever she saw him. Even now, she could not control the unwanted attraction she felt.

  Should I knock? she wondered. Or should I simply barge in? They seemed deep in conversation. The polite thing to do was knock, announce her presence and state her business. But before she could follow through with her intention to use the good manners her mother had drilled into her since childhood, J.T. spoke to Joe.

  "Your allegiance is to yourself," J.T. said. "If Russ is guilty, then you have to do what you believe is right, not what will gain you popularity points. You know that as well as I do."

  "I made a huge mistake telling Kate and Ed that they should let Eddie remain friends with Russ. If only I'd advised them to keep Eddie away from Russ, then my nephew wouldn't be in the situation he's in now. On the run. Wanted by the police."

  Andi had heard all she could endure. It was just as she had suspected—Joe and J.T. both thought Russ had killed Bobby Yazzi. Their objective was to find and save Eddie, even if that meant tossing Russ to the wolves. They didn't care what happened to her brother.

  "Russ did not kill Bobby Yazzi!" Andi stormed into the room, anger boiling inside her.

  Both men snapped around to face an enraged woman. Noting the startled expressions on their faces, she glared at them, hoping they felt as guilty as they looked.

  "Andi, we didn't know. . .that is, you should have let us. . ." J.T. stammered. "I'm sorry you overheard that part of our conversation and misunderstood. Neither of us be­lieves that Russ is guilty. It's just that we know he's been in trouble quite a bit the past couple of years."

  "And Eddie is a saint, who wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for my brother." Andi paused several feet away from the two men, planting herself firmly in front of them.

  "You're putting words into our mouths," J.T. told her.

  "Andi's very good at doing that." Joe mumbled, but Andi understood what he'd said.

  "I'm here to tell both of you that whatever type of search y'all instigate to find the boys, I'm going to be a part of it."

  "We don't need you interfering and creating prob­lems," Joe said, his dark gaze narrowing on her.

  "We'll keep you informed about—" J.T. tried to ex­plain.

  "No!" Andi walked right up to the two men, who stood side by side, stiff and unyielding. With only inches separating her from them, she pointed her finger right in Joe's face. "Just being informed isn't good enough."

  "J.T. and I will be splitting up the job of looking for Eddie and Russ," Joe said. "I'll be following up most of the leads that require any traveling, while J.T. spearheads a local investigation for the family. Since Joanna is so close to giving birth, he doesn't want to get very far away from her."

  "It seems y'all have everything all figured out." Andi frowned. "Eddie's family is well represented by the two of you, and I intend to make sure Russ's interests aren't forgotten. Wherever Joe goes, I go. He can look out for Eddie, and I'll look out for Russ."

  "Andi. . ." J.T. held out his hand in a gesture of friend­ship. "Come on. Sit down and we'll talk this thing through until we reach a satisfactory decision."

  "I don't need to sit down or talk anything through. The only decision that will satisfy me is to be included in the search."

  "You're being unreasonable," Joe said, his voice deadly soft. Then he added in a growling whisper, "But then, you always were."

  "Is it unreasonable to want to protect my brother?" Andi asked. "Is it unreasonable of me not to trust you to do what is best for Russ as you will for Eddie? And it is unreasonable for me to believe that you will not protect our family from further disgrace?''

  "You honestly believe that when the time comes, I won't do the right thing, the honorable thing?" Joe broke eye contact with Andi and gazed down at the floor, avoid­ing her intense scrutiny. "Before we've even begun the search, you've condemned me. How do you think you and I can work together? It would be impossible."

  "Impossible or not, we must work together." Andi looked to J.T. for confirmation, but before he could speak, Joe did what he was so very good at doing. He ran away. Again.

  "Give my regrets to Joanna," Joe said. "I'll have din­ner with your family another time. I need to get settled into my old place. You can follow through and get that ad placed in the Navajo Times. Maybe the boys will see it and contact us. We'll start out first thing in the morning questioning anyone who has a connection to either Eddie or Russ."

  "It won't do you any good to ran," Andi said. "You're just postponing the inevitable. I know how to find you, and from now until the boys are safe, you won't get away from me."

  Joe nodded to J.T., gave Andi a hard, menacing glare and strode out of the den, leaving behind a fuming Andi and a somber J.T.

  Joanna Blackwood stood in the doorway, glancing back and forth from her husband to Andi. "Isn't Joe staying for dinner?"

  "No," Andi said. "I think I ran him off."

  "What happened?" Joanna asked.

  "A difference of opinion," J.T. replied.

  "I'm sorry," Andi said. "Under normal circumstances I would never have. . . I'm only doing what I must. If I
don't protect Russ, no one else will. Please understand."

  Huffing disgustedly, J.T. shook his head. "Andi, you act as if everyone is against Russ, as if our family— Eddie's family—would be willing to sacrifice Russ in or­der to save Eddie."

  "Not the entire family. Just Joe."

  "Why is it that you can't seem to realize that Joe wasn't the one who committed a crime five years ago?" J.T. looked Andi square in the eye. "I liked Russell as much as anybody did, but Joe wasn't responsible for his death. Joe didn't make Russell kill himself. Your father chose—"

  Joanna rushed to her husband's side and grabbed his arm.

  "J.T., I think you've said enough."

  "No, it's all right," Andi assured her friend. "J.T. has every right to defend Joe. Just as I have every right to defend my father and my brother."

  "There isn't any reason why we can't all work to­gether, is there?" Joanna gazed pleadingly up at J.T. "Andi needs to be with Joe throughout his search. If Russ were my sixteen-year-old brother, I'd insist on going along."

  "Thank you, Joanna, for seeing my side of this situa­tion," Andi said. "I appreciate the predicament y'all find yourselves in and I don't want to cause any friction be­tween the two of you. I think it's best if I leave, too."

  Lacing her arm through J.T.'s, Joanna smiled at him and said, "Don't you agree that Andi should go with Joe when he sets out searching for the boys?''

  J.T. looked as if he'd been cornered by a grizzly bear. He shrugged, huffed loudly, and then nodded. “You have to do what you think is right, just the same as Joe does."