Wild Desire
Page 4
“And how do you know Damon Stout?” Runner finally said.
“I have not made his acquaintance, personally,” Stephanie said, wishing now that she had not mentioned Damon. She could tell that both Runner and Sage did not take well to the man’s name, which had to mean they had no good feelings toward the man.
She nodded over at Adam. “He’s Adam’s friend,” she murmured. “I believe they made an acquaintance when Adam was last here, while surveying the land for his private spur. Isn’t that so, Adam?”
Adam gave a quick, steely glance upon her mention of the private spur. He had not wanted to spring that on the Navaho until later.
“Your private spur?” Sage said. “These tracks belong to you?”
“That is something I would like to discuss with you later,” Adam said nervously. “Tonight? At Damon’s ranch? I’m sure he would not mind if I’m extending this invitation to your family, Sage. Would you please bring them? I would love to see Leonida.”
“Yes, please bring Leonida,” Stephanie said. “I’ve heard so much about your family. I’m very anxious to make Leonida’s acquaintance.”
“And isn’t there a daughter?” Adam said, taking this opportunity to focus more on family than on reasons for him and Stephanie being in Arizona. He knew of this daughter and that she had been named Pure Blossom, after Sage’s late sister. It was best to show innocence now, to make room for more light conversation between himself and the Navaho.
“Yes, a daughter has been born into our family,” Sage said, nodding. “Pure Blossom. She is called Pure Blossom.” He cast his eyes on Stephanie. “She is perhaps the same winters of age as you. And there is also a son: Thunder Hawk.”
“I am most anxious to meet both your daughter and your other son,” Stephanie said, smiling over at Sage.
“You will come, then, to Damon’s ranch?” Adam asked quickly, while there was some rapport being reached, thanks to Stephanie’s sweet, vibrant personality and her way of drawing people into not only liking but loving her. “You will bring your entire family?”
“E-do-tano, no.” Sage said, his voice stern. “Never.”
“This Navaho son accepts the invitation,” Runner quickly interjected.
Runner’s spine stiffened when he felt the scalding look from his father, but ignored it. Once his father heard his reason for deciding to go to Damon’s ranch, he would understand. This was a perfect opportunity, not only for the obvious reason, but for another that he would not share with his father. Although he was fighting his feelings about Stephanie, he could not deny himself the chance to get to know her better.
He also wanted to question her further about being a photographer. This, as well as the woman, intrigued him, although, for the sake of the Navaho People, he should be hating the thought of both.
“That’s magnificent, Runner,” Adam said, seeing his plan slowly falling into place. He clasped an eager hand on Runner’s muscle-tight shoulder. “It is good to be with you again, my friend. I never thought it possible.”
“Times change,” Runner said, his voice drawn. “But most of all, people change.”
He reached up and eased Adam’s hand from his shoulder. “Tonight, Adam,” he said, purposely not using the term “friend.” He saw Adam as anything but that. He could see that the boy of his youth was now a scheming man.
Runner turned to Stephanie as her eyes locked with his. “Tonight, Stephanie,” he said, then swung his horse around and rode off beside his father.
After Runner and Sage were some distance from Stephanie and Adam, who were now riding in the opposite direction from them, Sage turned angrily to Runner. “You are going to Damon’s ranch?” he said, glowering at Runner. “Do you not see this as foolish? There is much bad blood between the Navaho and Damon. You know that he is suspected of stealing Navaho horses.”
“That is exactly why I am going to his ranch,” Runner said, smiling at his father. “Do you not see? I can sneak out to Damon’s corral and check the horses. I know all of our People’s steeds as well as one knows his best friend.”
A slow smile moved on Sage’s lips. “I have raised a clever, intelligent son,” he said, his smile erupting into a pleased laugh. A wizened man, his movements were spry with vigor and his eyes were shrewd and twinkling.
“Then you agree to my going?” Runner asked, riding tall in his saddle, the wind lifting his long hair from his shoulders. “I never wish to disobey, Father.”
“Go, but be warned, my son, against having feelings for the white woman,” Sage growled out. “Always remember the importance of looking forward to a future of raising Navaho children in your hogan, not white.”
“Father, I am white, am I not?” Runner said guardedly. “Do not I represent our People of Navaho, even though by birthright I am white?”
“By saying this, are you telling your father that you do have eyes for the woman called Stephanie?” Sage said, his jaw tightening.
“It is too early to know or to say,” Runner said, turning his eyes from Sage, fearing they would betray what he was trying to hide from his beloved, adoptive father.
“Be careful with your heart and to whom you give it,” Sage warned. “I see much treachery in Adam. Who is to say that his sister is not the same?”
Runner turned to Sage. “She is not of his blood kin,” he said, in defense.
“That is so,” Sage said, nodding. “One other thing, Runner. See if Adam is solely responsible for this thing he calls a private spur.”
“It is as good as done,” Runner said, smiling over at his father, realizing that his father had not pursued the question of ownership of the private spur with Adam on purpose. He knew that his son would get him enough of the answers.
They rode onward in silence, their horses urged into a hard canter.
Runner’s thoughts were on his father’s warnings and remembering his own reservations about the white woman. Thus far, no woman, white or Indian, had caused him to take a lingering, second look.
Not until now.
Not until Stephanie.
In this one case, he might have to go against the wishes of his Navaho father and follow the rulings of his heart, yet he would proceed with much caution.
He frowned when he recalled again why she was there: to bring a camera into the land of the Navaho. This could be why he felt that he should not allow his feelings for her to become stronger.
He hoped that he would not be forced to make the choice between this woman and his people.
The sun was streaming through the window of the private railroad car, splashing golden light on the plush furniture and reflecting like sparkling diamonds in the long-stemmed wineglass that Adam was turning in his fingers. The train’s engine had been abandoned by the engineer and workers. They had taken their horses from the cattle car and had ridden off to seek their own amusements back at Gallup, at a place called the “Big Tent.”
“Stephanie, you were magnificent,” Adam said, laughing. He stretched his long, lean legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “Absolutely stupendous. If not for you, Runner would have gone with his father and would not have accepted the invitation to Damon’s ranch.”
Stephanie was at the window, illumined by a beam of sunlight. She gazed out at the mountains in the distance, only half hearing Adam, still under the spell of Runner’s midnight-dark eyes and the mystery of this man called the “White Indian.”
“Stephanie?” Adam said, turning to look at her. “Did you hear what I said? You’re one clever sister. If not for you, Runner wouldn’t have agreed to go and meet with us at Damon’s ranch. Don’t you see the value in that? If I can sway Runner over to our side, he’ll persuade the Navaho to accept my private spur. It’s apparent there is a mutual trust and respect between Sage and Runner. Sage will do as his son suggests.”
Adam’s mention of Runner drew Stephanie’s thoughts back to the present and her brother. She turned and looked at Adam. “What was that you said about Runner?” she murmured.
A heated blush rose to Stephanie’s cheeks. She avoided Adam’s knowing stare and walked smoothly across thick carpeting, past grand, overstuffed chairs. She hurried into the smaller adjoining rooms that served as her bedroom and darkroom.
Fumbling through the darkness, she found a lamp and match. She almost dropped the match when Adam came quickly to her side.
“Let me light the lamp for you,” Adam said, striking the match and placing it to the wide, kerosene-soaked wick.
“Be careful, Adam,” Stephanie said, holding the lamp steady. “Always remember the danger of my photographic chemicals.”
“Always,” Adam said, chuckling. “Do you think I want to go up in smoke just as I’m about to see my dreams come true?”
Stephanie saw the need for another warning to her brother. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” she said, setting her lamp on a counter, far from the trays of chemicals that she used for developing her negatives. “Didn’t you see Sage’s reaction? It’s obvious that he’s not only against the railroad but also my being a photographer.”
She turned to Adam and reached a hand to his lapel, smoothing it out with a soft touch of her fingers. “My dear brother, I do believe you have a battle on your hands,” she said, smiling up at him. “Now, be on your way. I want to develop the photographs that I took while we had our stopover in Gallup. That town is quite colorful, don’t you think?”
“No less than what I propose for mine,” Adam said, bending to kiss her brow. “I see it as a magnificent place, sis. Absolutely magnificent.”
“Magnificent,” Stephanie said, laughing softly. “To you everything is magnificent.” She reached her arms around him and gave him a hug. “Sweetie, I hope you get your dreams.”
Adam returned her hug. “With your help, I believe it’s within reach,” he said, then was jolted with alarm when she swung quickly away from him.
“My help?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t hear anything that I was saying a few minutes ago, did you?” Adam said, sighing. “Oh, well. I’m not going to go into it again. You’ll see soon enough what I mean without me spelling it out for you now.”
Stephanie started to say something else, but Adam was already gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
“I wonder what he meant?” she whispered, then began stirring fresh chemicals into water. All around her hung the proof of her love of photography.
Stephanie’s heart was not on her work as she began to unload her case of plates. All that she could think about was Runner, anxious now to begin taking photographs of the Navaho and their lovely land. She had met the man of her dreams; she had to find a way to get him to understand why her photographs could be used for the good of his people, not the bad.
“I must find a way,” she whispered, stopping to slip her suit jacket off. She rolled the sleeves of her white blouse up to her elbows and unbuttoned the two top buttons. She swept her hair back from her shoulders.
Then she proceeded to develop her plates, her heart pounding at the thought of seeing Runner again, under any circumstances.
Chapter 5
I ne’er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
—JOHN CLARE
Sheep were scampering downhill in a cloud of white and dissolved into the swelling herd, bawling their complaint as a sheepherder began driving them into a pole corral behind his hogan.
Sage and Runner nodded a silent hello to the man and rode on into their village, where Leonida stood waiting for them outside her hogan.
She wrung her hands nervously as she waited for Sage and Runner to dismount and tether their horses to a hitching rail at the side of the dwelling, then met Sage and flew into his arms.
“Yaa-eh-t-eeh,” Leonida said in a Navaho greeting. “Darling, I’m so glad you’ve returned home.” She gave him one last hug, then stepped away from him.
“Mother, what is it?” Runner asked. He went to her and took one of her hands. “You are upset. Why?”
“It’s Thunder Hawk,” Leonida said, sighing heavily. “He sneaked away from school again. This is his last year. Why can’t he see how important it is to have a full education? All dealings now are with schooled people. To compete, one must have the same schooling. Runner, you completed your studies. You have prepared yourself well for standing up against those who would cheat you. But what of Thunder Hawk? His stubbornness could be the ruin of him.”
Knowing the truth of his mother’s words, Runner’s thoughts turned back to Adam. He could tell that his boyhood friend was quite educated and could be a challenge to Runner’s own intelligence.
Also, the white woman proved to be a woman of much intellect. Anyone who knew the secrets of the device called a camera had to be very schooled in the subject. She would also be a challenge, yet one that he looked forward to.
“Where is our younger son?” Sage asked dryly.
“He has gone to help bring our sheep in,” Leonida said, entering the hogan with Sage and Runner. “He says that he wants to feel useful now, as well as in the future.”
“He is finding it hard to break with the traditions of our past,” Sage said, settling down on a chair before the fireplace. He accepted a cup of coffee from Leonida with a nod of thanks.
“In part that is good,” Sage continued between sips of coffee. “Edo-tano, no. It is not good ever to forget the ways of our past. But one must always prepare one’s self for the future, and I fear that herding sheep is not for our son. He must learn how to fight logic with logic when he comes face-to-face with the white people. Schooling is the only way to survive. The only way.”
“I feel as though I am ready to face any difficulty that may be laid in my path,” Runner said, sitting down beside his father.
“Even Adam?” Sage said, frowning over at Runner. “You are putting yourself in such a position tonight, my son, by promising to have council with Adam and Damon.”
“It will not be a normal council, by any means,” Runner said, laughing softly. “But, yes. I believe that I am ready for anything that Adam says or does.”
“And the white woman as well?” Sage said, reaching to add another log to the fire.
“We shall see about her when the time comes,” Runner said. He took a plate of food as Leonida handed it to him.
“Surely I was mistaken, but did I hear you speak a name of our past?” Leonida said. She reached to the table for Sage’s plate of food, then handed it to him. “Adam. Did you say something about an Adam?”
She had already eaten. She slipped her apron off and settled down on a chair opposite Sage and Runner. She waited for a reply, raising an eyebrow when she realized that neither son nor husband was offering it to her.
“Sage? Runner?” she persisted. “What did you say about Adam? Could it be our little Adam? Our Sally’s Adam?”
Runner lay his plate aside. He reached for his mother’s hands and squeezed them affectionately. “Mother, it is our Adam,” he said softly.
Leonida’s face glowed with joy. “Truly?” she gasped. “You . . . have . . . seen him? Where, Runner? Where?”
Runner cast Sage a troubled glance, then knelt by his mother. “Mother, Adam has arrived on a train,” he explained softly. “Do you know the tracks that have been laid farther than Gallup? Adam came in a train on those tracks.”
Leonida’s eyes became shadowed with worry. “He came to see us? That is why he was on the train?”
“Not entirely,” Runner said stiffly. “I believe he has come because of some connection with the railroad, and because of his sister.”
“What sister?” Leonida ask
ed, her eyes widening.
“Her name is Stephanie,” Runner explained. “She is a photographer. She has come to Arizona to practice her skills.”
“Truly?” Leonida said. “She is truly skilled in photography?”
“Yes, and it is intriguing, Mother,” Runner said solemnly. “But it is also something the Navaho would not want to be involved with. They would be exploited. That cannot be allowed to happen.”
Leonida did not reply. She understood about the Navaho being exploited. But she could not help but want to know this woman who knew the skills of taking pictures. She admired any woman who knew the ways of a man’s world.
Yet, as far as the Navaho were concerned, she did see a danger in this.
Pure Blossom entered the hogan, interrupting the silence.
“See my newest finished blanket,” Pure Blossom said. Spread across her outstretched arms was a blanket of many designs and colors.
Leonida went and took the blanket and shook it out to its full length, sighing as she was taken in by its sheer loveliness. “I do not know how, but your skills improve with each of your blankets,” she said.
Then her attention was drawn from the blanket. She watched how Pure Blossom kneaded her fingers, her eyes revealing the pain she was in.
Leonida lay the blanket aside and drew her frail daughter into her arms. “Now, now,” she murmured. “Do your fingers hurt so terribly today, Pure Blossom? Perhaps you should not weave for a few days now that your latest project is finished. Why not just rest beside the fire? I have recently brought you some books from the trading post. You could read. That could take your mind off the pain.”
“Using my fingers keeps them limber,” Pure Blossom said. She eased from her mother’s arms and looked at Runner. “Big brother, you seem so serious. What were you discussing?”
Runner rose to his feet and went to Pure Blossom. He took her hand and led her to a seat on a cushion of sheepskins before the fire. He gazed at her, again noticing how frail and small she was, yet so beautiful. She had coal-black, thick hair that almost hung to the floor when she stood. He scarcely looked at her back; the knot forming at the base of her neck was hidden beneath her hair.