by Jade Carr
"Do you believe in the spirit beings?"
At the question, Terena froze. Her aunt had volunteered to share part of Hopi tradition with strangers. That didn't mean she was open to what might be ridicule.
"The way I look at it," her aunt said, "everyone needs roots and grounding. My centering is a result of what I learned from my grandparents, and they from theirs."
"Playing devil's advocate," the older woman said, "do you ever feel the need to defend your beliefs because they aren't mainstream? I'm not criticizing, but you have to admit the Hopi religion is a minority one."
"Which is what makes it so special," Terena said as she stepped forward.
The look on Aunt Lenmana's round, gently aging face nearly brought Terena to tears. Ignoring the couple, she enveloped the surrogate mother she loved with all her heart. Aunt Lenmana returned her hug with equal strength.
"I take it you two are related," the woman said.
"We are," Terena explained around the lump in her throat. "And to continue what you were discussing, I'm grateful to my aunt and uncle for everything I know about my heritage." She saw no need to explain that her father was white.
"What means the most to you?"
Good question. Still holding on to her aunt, she pondered. "Maybe it's my people's relationship with the land. According to legend, the Hopis emerged from the underworld through a sipapu, which is an opening in the Grand Canyon. Once they were on the surface, they traveled north, south, east, and west."
Aunt Lenmana chuckled. "Well, that's the short course."
"Hey, it's my version." She hugged her aunt again. "We live where we do because the Hopi mesas mark the center point of the cross formed by the four directional routes."
"Too bad it couldn't have been a more hospitable area," the man said. "It's so dry and desolate here."
"Yes, it is," she said, "but the harsh environment requires us to adhere to the Supreme Creator's laws in order to survive."
The woman nodded. "You're speaking in the present tense."
"Because," Aunt Lenmana said, "the majority of the ten thousand Hopi who live on the reservation hold to tradition. That's why I was recruited to demonstrate dry-farming, particularly of corn, which is sacred to us."
"Fascinating," the man said. "So your demonstrations start tonight?"
As her aunt explained that they would run all weekend, Terena mentally replayed what she'd told the couple about the Supreme Creator. She seldom mentioned that to those she considered outsiders. Strange that the words had come so easily today, almost as if someone other than she had been responsible.
Impossible. Only she knew what was in her heart.
Are you certain?
Startled, she fought the impulse to look around to see who had spoken because she sensed she wouldn't find anyone.
Unless it was two men capable of changing form.
Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, she struggled to concentrate on the conversation. The man asked what Aunt Lenmana would be doing once the expo was over.
Clasping Terena's hand, her aunt smiled. "I kidnap my niece and take her home."
"Any chance I can make good on my threat?" Aunt Lenmana asked a short while later. The two of them were at a table in a temporary eating area set up so people could sample traditional Hopi food. Because the public sampling wouldn't begin until morning only a few people were around. How would Nokoni and Hah-Tee react to this place? Would they compare the offerings to what traditional Comanche ate?
"What threat?" Terena placed some piki in her mouth and waited for the paper-thin bread made from blue corn and ash to dissolve.
"To keep you around for a while?"
"I don't know." She spoke with her mouth full.
Maybe her aunt had guessed Terena was intent on getting the full corn flavor from the piki because she didn't press for an explanation. They'd positioned themselves so they could see the swimming pool that had been built in the inner courtyard. A pool when water was at a premium seemed wasteful to Terena, but the motel had been designed to appeal to tourists.
"I do want to spend a few days at the house." She swallowed the last of the piki, the flavor very appealing. "That's wonderful! Did you make it?"
"Would you believe me if I said yes? Truth is, I didn't have time. Several women from the Mustard Clan are responsible. I'm not sure what visitors will think when they hear they're eating ash."
"Culinary ash." She paused. "I saw Ahote yesterday."
The older woman's features sobered. "Tell me."
Careful not to lower her gaze, she detailed how she'd initially spotted her cousin during the race. "I've never seen anything like the mare he was riding. I know fast, but Red was off the charts. She blew the field away."
Her aunt's features became even more serious. Although she was confused by her reaction, Terena nevertheless described Ahote's riding skill. "He was in charge the whole time. Red is high-strung and full of energy. She didn't care about the other horses. From what I could tell, she ran for the man on her back." Except Terena wasn't so sure about that. Maybe Red ran the way she did because speed was deeply engrained in her.
It wouldn't be dark for a while, but the sun was behind the motel, and shadows had spread over the inner courtyard. Nearby, a couple of women spoke in Hopi, which added to the evocative surroundings. Her memories of sex with Nokoni and Hah-Tee's brooding presence seemed to fit. She couldn't imagine telling her aunt about the two mysterious men.
"Did Ahote say anything about when we'd see him again?"
Alerted by the longing in her aunt's voice, Terena reached across the small table and patted a leathered hand. "We didn't have time for a decent conversation. Riding Red made him happier than I've seen him be since he was a boy. Then…"
"Then what?"
Berating herself for stumbling into something with no easy way out, she brought her aunt's hand to her mouth and kissed it. The older woman's black eyes glistened.
Hating what she was doing, she described the meeting between Ahote and the two white men who'd taken Red from him. No matter how hard she tried to keep her mind on what her aunt needed to hear, she couldn't force away the memory of Nokoni and Hah-Tee's expressions as they'd watched Red being driven away.
"Those men didn't buy Red?" her aunt pressed. "You're sure no money changed hands?"
Much as she wanted to protect her aunt, the older woman needed to know the truth. "We both know Ahote has always had trouble managing money. The way they talked, I wondered if he owed them something."
"Or they had something on him, and he was trying to pay them off."
Shocked, she leaned forward. "You really think that's possible?"
"Ahote and drugs—you know how it is."
She did, unfortunately. "I thought he was clean, that the treatment he'd gotten—"
"Honey, my father fought alcohol his whole life. My son has the same weakness."
Fighting tears, she again kissed Aunt Terena's hand. "Life's never easy, is it?"
"No, it isn't. And right now, it's kicking you."
Of course her aunt would be able to read beneath the surface. "I'm trying to straighten a few things out in my mind, that's all. Some career decisions to make. And I couldn't think of a better way to do that than spend time with you. I just wish I could have brought Ahote with me."
"So do I, but I can't protect him from his life. Only he can live it."
Aunt Lenmana had said the same thing about Terena's mother, and as far as Terena knew, Kele was still trying to get her head on straight, or maybe she'd given up. Terena had worked hard to make sure she didn't turn out like her mother, and yet here she was, rootless and confused.
And wishing with everything in her that life was as simple as having sex with a tall, dark, mysterious stranger—who might also be a stallion.
"You're frowning."
"I'm thinking," she sidestepped, "about Red."
The way her aunt cocked her head, Terena was pretty sure she hadn't fooled h
er.
"Oh?"
"Ahote told me the mare came from here. From the reservation. I don't see how that's possible."
Aunt Lenmana looked around. The two elderly Hopi women had moved from the food preparation area to some lounge chairs. Several young men Terena took to be motel employees were setting up more tables and chairs.
"You don't know, do you?" her aunt said.
"What?"
Keeping her voice low, Aunt Lenmana explained that Red could have been part of a small herd of mustangs that grazed on Hopi land. "They've been here for four or five years. I don't know how many there are. I keep hearing different numbers, probably no more than fifty."
"That isn't a small herd."
"Compared to the thousands in Nevada, it is."
"Do you think the horses could have come from Nevada?" she asked.
"I'm positive."
"How can you be sure?"
Her aunt shook her head. "Your uncle knows more about this than I do because of his involvement in the council. A BLM official was here last month. He wanted someone to take him deep into the res, so he could see the mustangs firsthand. Strangely enough, no one volunteered."
Sharing a laugh with her aunt felt good.
"The government man went out on his own but didn't say much about what he found, if anything. Then he left. Apparently, his agency had learned about the mustangs from tourists. The last I heard, the BLM had sent an official document declaring that the horses are their responsibility."
"Here? On Hopi land?"
Her aunt chuckled again. "Exactly our position. A couple of weeks ago—I think that's how long it's been—representatives from all eleven villages, even those that aren't part of the Tribal Council, signed a document the Council's attorney had drawn up."
"Let me guess. Pretty much it tells the federal agency to butt out."
"Correct. We Hopi fought too damn hard for Tutskwa to allow the feds to take over."
Tutskwa, sacred land. Land where some fifty wild horses, including stallions, now lived.
Chapter 11
Was this it? Terena pondered as she walked around the motel's perimeter. Somewhere in the middle of what she was learning about mustangs and shape-shifting men was what had brought her back home? Instead of interviewing any more people who'd lost everything and ripping her own heart in the process, she'd photograph wild horses against the backdrop of the awesome land of her birth.
The cough and wheeze of passing vehicles coupled with the motel's exterior had her aching to be on the reservation with only the sound of the wind and birds. Her aunt had asked if she preferred to stay at the motel over the weekend or head for the family home, which was at the outskirts of Moenkopi. She'd admitted she didn't want to do any more driving today, and they'd agreed to have dinner together in about an hour. Instead of immediately renting a room, however, Terena had gone outside. Fortunately there no one was around to ask what she was up to.
Truth was, she needed time and solitude if she hoped to figure herself out. A week ago, all she'd cared about was putting temporary distance between herself and career stress, but that had changed. Amend that: two men had walked in and turned her thinking around.
Damn it, she should have headed for the bar and a drink. At least she had the back of the motel to herself. Granted, someone else looking for solitude might come here, but for now, the only thing she had to deal with was insects and dust and putting one foot in front of another.
"Terena."
At the sound of her name, her blood practically caught fire. She spun around. She'd recognized Nokoni's voice, so she should have been prepared for the sight of him. It wasn't that simple. Seeing Hah-Tee standing close enough to the other man that their shoulders nearly touched left her without the ability to speak. Many years ago, she'd been on her way to Big Mountain when she'd spotted a cougar crouched behind some boulders. Shock, apprehension, and excitement had rolled over her, same as what she felt now.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
Hah-Tee's nostrils flared. "Looking for you."
Hah-Tee's voice wasn't higher pitched than Nokoni's. Rather, it was quieter as if his lungs were slightly smaller, maybe because he was still growing. If that was true, she'd love to see him in another year or so when his muscles were even denser and his stance more confident, if that was possible.
"You wanted to see me? I thought…" She focused on Nokoni. "I thought you'd said everything you wanted to earlier."
He rocked forward, then settled back on his heels, making her wonder if he both wanted and didn't want to touch her. "I'm not done with you." He acknowledged the other man with a glance. "We aren't done with you."
There wasn't anything out here to interest visitors, and as far as she could see, the motel employees had no reason to come either. Knowing it would probably be the three of them had her thinking about an escape route. At the same time, she wished she could wipe her sweaty palms against her thighs, but touching her thighs right now was dangerous.
The longer the silence went on, the more electric it became. They could be testing her self-control. She hadn't seen them since yesterday, but if her memory was as keen as she believed it was where they were concerned, they were still wearing the same jeans and boots. Today Nokoni's T-shirt was dark blue while Hah-Tee's was black. They looked slightly sinister—and even sexier.
Yesterday they'd put her in mind of professional athletes. Today, their take-no-prisoners stance made her think of bodyguards.
Fine. They could guard her body all they wanted.
Nokoni shifted his weight, bringing him closer to Hah-Tee. As they separated, their outlines began to change. They became larger and more substantial. Awed, she wrapped her arms around her middle and widened her stance to keep from swaying. The change continued, human bodies disappearing within the emerging horses. At first, the two horses were indistinct, and she likened them to smoke or fog, but as the seconds ticked off, the forms became more and more substantial. Up close like this, their size intimidated the hell out of her, not that she had any intention of trying to flee. Instead, she'd look, just look, not try to make sense of what was happening. Yesterday she hadn't been sure about the white marking on their chests, but now she plainly saw the outline of an eagle with outstretched wings that bled out to the creatures' shoulders.
She couldn't say how long it took for the stallion bodies to swallow the male forms, less than a minute, probably. Somehow they managed to shake off their clothes as they shifted. Now she was looking at a pair of powerful and potent stallions. Neither moved, thank goodness. Otherwise, she'd be even more overwhelmed.
"I don't know what to say," she muttered. "Maybe, thank you for showing me what you're capable of."
The stallion now standing where Hah-Tee had been turned toward the other. Two heads lifted. Necks arched. Two sets of nostrils flared. Nokoni snorted. Hah-Tee pawed the ground.
"Don't!" She started to step forward so she could position herself between them, only to come to her senses. If they reared and started pawing, they could rip her apart. "I don't want to see you fight, damn it. That's not what this is about."
Four beautiful black eyes zeroed in on her. She both loved having to look up at them and was intimidated by the creatures' sheer power. Anyone who thought of horses only as prey animals didn't know what they were talking about. If a horse needed to fight, his hooves could do the job. Not only that, she read courage and determination in every line of the pair's bodies. Her heart hammered, and she didn't remember her skin feeling this sensitive.
"What do you want me to say?" she asked. "That you've impressed me? Well, you have."
"Are you afraid of us?"
The voice in her head, if that was what it was, took her back to last night's confusing and wildly exciting dream when her fantasy lover had communicated with her the same way. "No. Should I be?"
"Maybe."
"All right. I'll accept that." She concentrated on relaxing her hold on her waist. Her system
was becoming more alert by the moment. "What are you doing here?"
"Following you."
All at once, her lips didn't want to work, forcing her to concentrate on every syllable. "I told Nokoni I was going to the res. I didn't say anything about first stopping here. How did—"
"Your scent."
That can't be, she wanted to throw at them. She'd been in her car, not scent-marking her trail like a predator claiming its territory. "Did, ah, did you travel as men or horses?"
"Both."
"I don't understand."
"Men are accepted where animals aren't, but horses can run faster and longer."
"You galloped all the way here? What—do either of you drive?"
"I do," the horse who'd been Nokoni said. "I taught myself."
Much as she wanted to ask how he'd done that, even more important questions were piling up inside her. From what they'd said about galloping here, she guessed they didn't have access to an automobile. If, as she suspected, they spent most of their time as horses, they probably didn't have jobs. Maybe they didn't call any place home.
"What's so important about me?"
"You aren't afraid."
"Maybe. I'm not sure." Stalling, she let go of her middle and rammed her hands into her back pockets. Despite her casual stance, she was anything but. She still didn't know what to say, so she gave in to the desire to study them in more detail. Perfect as their bodies were, something didn't quite fit with what she knew about horses. The difference, she realized with a start, was in their eyes. Intelligence simmered as if longing to break free.
"I might not be afraid," she admitted, "but maybe that's because getting some answers is more important. How—darn it, I don't know how to ask—how can you be what you are?"
"We don't know."
"What? Are you saying you suddenly woke up one day with the ability to become human whenever the whim strikes you?"
"It isn't that simple."
"I didn't think it was. I'm just, I don't know. What are your earliest memories of? Were you colts or boys?"