Redhawk's Return

Home > Mystery > Redhawk's Return > Page 8
Redhawk's Return Page 8

by Aimée Thurlo


  He lay down just a few feet away from her, but despite the fact that he was dead on his feet, sleep eluded him. Having Fox so close made him remember how good it had felt to have her body pressed against his.

  He turned his head and refused to even look at her now. Instead, he stared into the fire, wondering why the gods were testing him.

  Knowing he had to sleep, Travis forced his mind to go blank and then closed his eyes. It was at that precise moment that she reached out for his hand. Biting back a groan, he held on to her and, after an eternity, finally fell asleep.

  TRAVIS HEARD THE BENS rise shortly after dawn. Moving silently, they picked up their medicine bundles and went outside. It was time to offer prayers to the dawn. The ritual was an intrinsic part of the Navajo Way. Travis hadn’t practiced it since he was a boy at Rock Ridge, but his brother had stayed with the custom. In that respect, Ashe had always been more connected to the Diné.

  Travis rose slowly, releasing Fox’s hand gently, pleased that she hadn’t let go after she’d fallen asleep. He wondered if she’d even been aware of reaching out to him. She’d been near exhaustion last night.

  Not wanting to wake her, Travis moved quietly, pushing aside the blanket and leaving the hogan. He stood in silence just outside the doorway and watched the Bens, pollen bags raised, offer the blessing.

  A twinge of envy filled him. There was beauty and order in the Navajo Way. The ceremonies all celebrated life and the interconnectedness of man and nature. But those beliefs no longer had the power to support or sustain him. After the death of his parents and all the changes that came afterwards, he’d learned to believe only in himself. He’d walked away from the Navajo Way and embraced the Anglo culture instead. He’d found purpose there, though the outside world placed more importance on dominance rather than in finding one’s place within creation.

  As Travis watched the time-honored ritual, he remembered the life he’d lost sight of during his years on the outside. As his gaze took in the dark blue skies and red mesas that surrounded them, he felt a sense of homecoming. It was as if the land itself was welcoming him back. Terraced sandstone rock formations and the sweet scent of piñon and juniper all reminded him that this was home and, for a brief moment, he wondered how he’d been able to stay away for so long.

  As his gaze swept over the adjacent hillside, he suddenly felt the familiar tug on his scalp that always warned him of danger. He narrowed his eyes and studied the mesa. He caught a glimpse of movement. Someone was just below the skyline, looking down on them from the shadows of a large overhang. Instinct warned him that it was the sniper again.

  Standing in the shadow of the hogan so he wouldn’t become a target, Travis asked the Bens to go inside. He explained why, quickly, though he was careful to keep his body language relaxed so he wouldn’t tip off the sniper.

  “Move slowly,” he said, “and don’t look around, especially toward the mesa where he’s hiding. Don’t let on that we’re wise to him,” he added.

  Once they’d all stepped back into the hogan, Travis briefed Fox, who hadn’t gone outside yet. As he was speaking, Philip reached into a wooden box on a shelf and handed Travis an old pair of binoculars. “Here. My sight’s not very good anymore. You can use these more effectively than I can.”

  Travis took the binoculars from him. Standing to one side of the blanket-covered door and remaining in shadow, he zeroed in on the figure watching them. He couldn’t make out the man’s face, which was shaded by a cap, but he could see a long-range hunting rifle braced on a rock. “He’s no amateur, or he would have fired already. He’s waiting for a clear shot.”

  Fox gathered up their things in record time. “Or else his target hasn’t come outside into the open yet. Either way, we have to leave and draw the sniper away from here.”

  “You can’t go outside now,” Lucinda protested. “You’re safe in here. These thick logs will stop a rifle bullet, won’t they?” she asked Travis.

  “Yes. But we still have to leave in case someone decides to approach us from behind. Once we’re gone, you’ll be safe. We’re the intended targets, not you two,” Travis replied. “But before we do anything else, I’m going to call for help. It’s pointless to maintain radio silence now, just so we won’t be tracked. Our enemies already know where we are.” He studied the cell phone as he switched it on. “I’ve got very little power left on this cell-phone battery, but it should be enough.”

  As Travis phoned in, Fox worked with Lucinda Ben, topping off their supply of water.

  Travis broke the connection, then looked outside again. “If we just step out there, he’ll pick us off. We need some kind of plan.”

  “It’s foolish for you to go now. Stay here. The police are coming,” Philip urged. “We can guard the entrance until they arrive.”

  Fox shook her head. “We’re exposing you to too much danger, and we have no way of knowing how many are out there. The hogan is safe for you, but not while we’re here. This time, Travis is right.”

  “This time?” Travis repeated.

  She shrugged. “I’m agreeing with you. Be happy.” She looked back at Lucinda. “I’d like to ask a favor of you both.”

  “Name it,” Philip Ben said.

  “If you can stand it for a few minutes, I’d like to try and fill this area with thick smoke, the kind that comes from smoldering embers. I want the sniper to assume that we’re having trouble with the cooking fire, and that we’ll be easy targets if he just waits,” Fox said. “Providing we work it just right, the smoke will become our cover. The air is very still and that means the smoke will settle over the area like fog. What do you think, Travis?” Fox looked over at him.

  “A smoke screen will help us slip out safely. But the air inside the hogan will be unbreathable,” Travis warned.

  “For a bit, that’s true,” Fox conceded. “But, with that layer of smoke, the Bens won’t be easy targets and neither will we.”

  “We’ll start a fire right now,” Lucinda said. “We can block the smoke hole with a wet blanket, and smother the flames a bit with some damp wood. Then we’ll pull the blanket on the door back a ways so the smoke will float outside. We can even fan the smoke out faster by waving some towels, and that’ll help make it more breathable inside, too,” Lucinda added. “As soon as it gets real thick around the hogan, you two can make your escape into the brush. We’ll lie on the ground next to the entrance with damp washcloths over our mouths as long as we can. Then, once you’ve had time to get away, we’ll open the smoke hole, put the fire out, and stay inside until the police come.”

  IT WASN’T LONG BEFORE a thick, gray cloud obscured the hogan. The Bens went outside, always careful to stay within the veil of smoke. They quickly pumped water from the well into two pails, then hurried inside as if a fire had erupted within the walls of the hogan.

  They all held wet pieces of cloth over their mouths as they worked, fanning the smoke out the entrance. When the smoke grew so thick Fox could barely see two feet in front of her, she knew it was time to leave.

  “Take care of yourself, child,” Lucinda said.

  The gentle words made a lump form in her throat. They’d brought danger to this couple, who certainly hadn’t deserved it. Yet the woman felt nothing but compassion. Fox wanted to hug her, but refrained, uncertain how Lucinda Ben would take to it. She was a traditionalist, and touching strangers went against the teachings of the Navajo Way.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Lucinda took Fox’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Your soldier will take care of you,” she said, whispering in her ear. “But you must take care of him, too. He’s lost his way—more so than you.”

  Fox wanted to ask Lucinda what she meant, but there was no more time. Travis took her arm, urging her out.

  “Now’s our chance,” he said, stifling a cough. “Let’s go.”

  He led the way, staying close to Fox as they hurried out in a crouch. Although the smoke was thick around the hogan, it didn’t carry far. Twenty feet from t
he entrance it had already thinned out, but by then they were on their hands and knees in the underbrush, crawling away, hidden from the sniper’s aim.

  Thorns and tough brush penetrated her clothing, rubbing and poking her skin, and yet somehow, she managed to keep up. Soon they were able to move in a crouch, then, finally, stand upright. When they were a few hundred yards away from the dwelling, safe inside a deep arroyo, Fox knew she could finally speak in a whisper. “Will the Bens be okay? I hate to leave them on their own now.”

  “Philip Ben knows this area. He can elude anyone he chooses here. And the cops are on their way.”

  “Travis, are you certain of what you saw? If it was a sniper, it’s strange he never fired even one shot.”

  “As I said, whoever’s up there is a pro. That kind of patience is something you only acquire with training.”

  “Who did he want to shoot? Do you think he was hoping to injure me, or you, so they could slow us down and capture us?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but I suspect he wanted to take me out first so he could get to you. I’m his biggest problem right now.”

  “If they hurt you, they’ll find I’m quite a problem, too,” she said meanacingly.

  He grinned. “I agree. You’ve been a problem for years now.”

  She made a face, then ignored his comment. “Maybe the police will catch him before he has a chance to escape.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that. If it had been me up on that mesa, I would have realized almost immediately that the smoke was a diversion. I’d have left the area double time, trying to pick up the trail of my prey again.”

  “How’s he finding us?” she asked.

  “He must know something about both of us to be second guessing us like he has.”

  An undeniable heaviness descended over Fox. It just didn’t seem right. Travis was in this mess because of her, but he was even more of a target than she was.

  Chapter Seven

  “You and Lucinda hit it off well,” he whispered as they crossed a sandy arroyo, staying close to the sides. Hiding from the morning sun was difficult, so they had to pick their path carefully.

  “I like her a lot,” Fox said. Lucinda’s words about Travis still echoed in her mind, but she said nothing to him about that. Now, with time to consider what Lucinda had said, Fox mulled it over. Slowly, it began to make sense.

  Travis’s reluctance to accept the intrinsic worth of his own culture blinded him, and caused him to lose his way. No matter which path he chose to pursue, Anglo or Navajo, he’d first have to come to terms with who and what he was, before he could ever find peace. Fox could understand that better than most, too. Her own situation demanded that she face her past and learn her identity before she could be free to move into the future.

  “We’re going to need a vehicle,” Travis said as they headed in the direction of the highway, “or this investigation of ours will go on forever.”

  “I agree. Fun as it might seem to a soldier like you, these cross-country marches are costing us way too much time. But don’t worry about anything. I’ve got a plan,” she said and continued undaunted. “We’ll call Ashe from the first pay phone or business we reach. We have the support of the Marshals Service to stay in hiding, but we do need to make contact now.”

  “If we continue heading northeast, we’ll eventually arrive near the Quick and Go on the highway between Beclabito and Shiprock. Nobody will expect us to go in that direction because it would be so much closer to hike directly to Beclabito. It’s also in a direction that will take us away from the closest settlement—the place our pursuers are most likely to check first.”

  “If you’re hoping to find the Quick and Go, we’re heading in the wrong direction. That’s north of here,” she said.

  He glared at her. “We are going in the right direction, which is northeast. Your internal compass is turned around a bit.”

  “Well, don’t blame me when we get to the highway and you find out you’re wrong,” she said with a shrug. “But it won’t be a disaster. We’ll just have to hitchhike from there.”

  “I know where I’m going.”

  “Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that we luck out going in this direction and actually arrive at the Quick and Go. There’s still a problem. What if our call to Ashe is traced or is monitored from the other end? For all intents and purposes, we would be broadcasting our whereabouts and destination.”

  “The only way I can think to circumvent that is for us not to stay at the Quick and Go for long, and for me to carefully arrange a rendezvous with my brother. I’ll make a reference to a place he’ll know, without mentioning it by name. I’m sure I can think of something between now and then.”

  “Of course you can. You’ll have plenty of time to decide, because we’re never going to find a phone heading in the direction we’re going now.”

  “Then how come you’re following me?” he growled.

  “You’re right. I’ll go my own way. You go yours. Excellent idea.”

  He blocked her way. “You’re going with me, even if I have to carry you.”

  “Will you make up your mind? Half a second ago, you suggested that we go separate ways.”

  “I was making a little joke.”

  “Very little.” She knew that she was no match for him when it came to strength, and something told her that he was prepared to throw her over his shoulder. “Okay. I’ll go with you. But once you find out you went in the wrong direction, I want an elaborate apology.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I want you down on your hands and knees, telling me that you were wrong and begging my forgiveness.”

  “You’ve been out in the sun too long.”

  “And here I thought you were convinced you were right.”

  “I am right.”

  “Good. Then you’ll do it?”

  He nodded once. “And what if you’re the one who’s wrong?”

  She considered asking him what he’d want, then nixed the idea. That left too much to chance. “I’ll salute and call you ‘sir’ for a day.”

  “And refrain from arguing with me, or coming up with any more plans?” he added.

  “Okay—that is, unless you change your mind and need my help. But trust me, you’re wrong.”

  As they drew closer to the highway, Travis grew more cautious. Although she hadn’t worn the black wig since they’d left home, now, as they approached civilization, she slipped it back in place.

  “The Quick and Go is right over that hill,” he said.

  “You’re dreaming. We’re probably closer to the Rattlesnake turnoff. We’ll undoubtedly have to go several miles before we get there, but we should eventually be able to find a phone.”

  As they reached the top of the hill, she stared down at what she’d thought would be just empty highway. But a large vehicle was there. It was the state library’s bookmobile, pulled over to the shoulder across the highway, aimed west in the direction of Beclabito.

  “Looks like we were both wrong,” she said.

  Travis pointed east down the road where the Quick and Go gas station stood. “I wasn’t that far off the mark. But let’s try the bookmobile before we do anything else. If Edna Yazzie is driving it, let me do the talking. I bet I can convince her to give us a ride to Beclabito, though she’s not supposed to take passengers.”

  “Okay.” Fox paused, then added clearly, “By the way, you were wrong about where we were,” she repeated. “You missed it by at least a mile.”

  “More like half a mile. But you were off the mark altogether. You had no idea where we were. Rattlesnake is probably ten miles farther east,” Travis said through clenched teeth.

  “So I was wrong. At least I don’t have as big a problem admitting it.”

  Travis said nothing, but she could have sworn he was grinding his teeth.

  As they crossed the empty highway, Edna looked out through the driver’s-side window. The middle-aged woman’s expression brightened as she sa
w Travis. “What on earth are you doing out here? Don’t you have a car?”

  “We had some trouble with it,” Travis said. “How about giving us a ride into Beclabito? It looks like you’re headed that way.”

  Edna turned to look at Fox and then smiled. “Oh, it’s you! I almost didn’t recognize you in that silly wig.”

  “It’s my new image,” Fox muttered.

  “I hear you’re both in trouble,” Edna said, her expression somber. “It was all over the newspapers. So don’t give it another thought I’ll give you a ride. Come on around to the door.”

  Edna quickly finished rearranging some children’s books in preparation for her next stop, then started the heavy vehicle west. As they approached the elementary school in Beclabito, Edna slowed down. “The kids waiting will see the bookmobile in another minute, and will come right up once I park,” she warned.

  “Then maybe you should let us out here,” Fox said. “We don’t want to attract any more attention than necessary .”

  Edna gave them a long glance. “I don’t see how you can avoid it. Everyone knows you, Travis, and Fox’s wig really doesn’t pass muster close-up. You can tell it’s not real hair—or at least, I can.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” Travis said as Edna pulled over to the shoulder of the road. “Don’t tell anyone you saw us, okay?”

  “No problem. I don’t want anyone asking me any questions. Giving you a ride could cost me my job.”

  Edna dropped them off by a gravel road that led to a tribal housing project, then continued toward the school. Fox looked around, finally realizing where they were.

  “Edna’s right, you know,” Travis said after a moment. “We need to find a way to blend in. Maybe traditional clothes. Nobody gives a second glance to an old couple walking by the side of the road.”

  “You will never look like an old man, no matter what clothes you pick.” As she glanced at his muscular body and broad shoulders, she felt her blood sizzle. Everything about him spoke of sheer masculine power.

 

‹ Prev