“I love feeling so protected,” Stephanie said, returning the smile. “It’s wonderful that you also feel as protective of your sister. Let’s go, Runner. Let’s go and find her.”
Her words had scarcely crossed her lips when, at the far side of the village, she saw a horseman arriving, a travois attached to the horse by two long poles dragging behind.
“What on earth . . . ?” Stephanie said.
“Gray Moon?” Runner whispered in surprise. He knew Gray Moon well. He was the son of Runner’s father’s longtime friend, Spotted Feather, who had moved to a neighboring village when he had married one of their lovely maidens. Gray Moon had, on occasion, hunted with Runner. He had come for various celebrations, and even for more quiet times to share talk and laughter with Runner and his family.
It had been awhile since Runner had seen Gray Moon. He had surmised from Gray Moon’s absence that he had taken a wife, giving him responsibilities that kept him closer to home.
But now? This morning? He was arriving in a strange manner, his face solemn as he kept taking glances over his shoulder at the travois.
“Who do you think is on the travois?” Stephanie said, slipping from her saddle as Runner slid from his own.
Runner didn’t take the time to respond. He broke into a run and met Gray Moon’s approach. He questioned Gray Moon with his eyes, seeing too much in his silent concern that his burden must be someone who meant much to him.
Gray Moon drew a tight rein. His eyes met Runner’s briefly as he dismounted and went back to the travois. “I have brought your sister to you,” he said, bending to his knees to start untying the rope that held Pure Blossom in place on the travois.
“Pure Blossom?” Runner said, panic filling his heart. He fell to his knees on the other side of the travois. His fingers trembled as he unfolded a corner of the blanket that held his sister within its warm, protective cocoon. He was too afraid to ask if she was dead. He was afraid, even, to see for himself.
When he uncovered her face and saw the thick droop of her lashes feathered out over her cheeks, her eyes closed, her breath coming in rasps, his insides grew numb and he fought back the urge to emit a loud cry of despair.
“She is not dead,” Gray Moon said, loosening the last of the rope. “But she is quite ill. I came upon her after she had been bitten by a rattlesnake.”
“Rattlesnake?” Runner said, his head spinning, knowing that few lived after an assault from a rattlesnake.
“You can feel somewhat relieved in that the wound was not a deep one,” Gray Moon said, going to kneel down beside Runner as he, too, looked at Pure Blossom’s stillness. “I do not think that much venom got into her veins. I found her when the wound was fresh. I sucked the wound dry. It was then that I discovered that it was only a flesh wound. The rattler must have been a baby and unskilled at attacking victims.”
Stephanie came to the travois with Sage and Leonida, the people of the village circling around them, their eyes wide and questioning. When Leonida saw that it was Pure Blossom, she stifled a cry behind her hands and fell to her knees beside Runner.
Sage knelt by Pure Blossom’s other side and hurriedly swept her into his arms. His eyes heavy with worry, he carried her to her hogan and placed her on her bed.
As Runner and Leonida walked toward Pure Blossom’s hogan, Stephanie followed behind them, her eyes filled with tears. Guilt was plaguing her again. She could not help but again feel responsible, in part, for all that had happened to Runner’s family. She wasn’t sure if she could live with the guilt and still be a part of Runner’s family.
Suddenly, she turned away from them all and ran blindly toward her horse. She felt that it was best for all concerned if she left and never returned. If Pure Blossom survived the snake bite, she might never get over her feelings for Adam. Every time Pure Blossom would look at Stephanie she might be seeing Adam.
Tears flooding her eyes, Stephanie swung herself into her saddle. She rode away at a hard gallop, people scattering to make room for her quick exit.
Runner heard the commotion and turned with a start. His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat when he caught sight of Stephanie leaving in such a rush, and suspected why.
Leonida stopped and also saw Stephanie riding away. She turned to Runner and placed a hand on his arm. “Go after her, my son,” she murmured. “Your father and I will see to Pure Blossom. A ‘singer’ will be sent for. Pure Blossom will not die.” She gave Gray Moon a quavering smile as he came up and stood beside her. “Because of Gray Moon, your sister will be all right.”
Runner stared down at his mother for a moment, then rushed away from her. In one leap, he was on his horse and riding with breakneck speed after Stephanie. He caught up with her just as she left the village. Edging his horse up close to hers, he grabbed her reins and drew both her horse and his stallion to a shuddering halt.
“You have no reason to leave my village,” Runner said, gazing gently into her eyes. He reached a hand over and smoothed tears from her cheeks. “You have no need to cry.”
“How can I not feel somewhat responsible for what has happened to your sister?” Stephanie said, sniffling. “Adam is my brother.”
“He is your stepbrother, no blood kin whatsoever to you,” Runner said. “So how can you blame yourself?” Stephanie, I love you. My people love you. You must return with me and sit with me during Pure Blossom’s healing ceremony.”
“How can you love, or want me, when Adam has caused you so much pain and misery?” she persisted, finding it hard to shake the feelings that were assailing her.
“My woman, you were not able to choose a brother,” Runner said softly. “He was just there, a forced part of your life. You are not to blame for his evil ways. You are everything sweet and beautiful in this world of ugliness.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Come. Return with me. Be a part of my family as a ‘singer’ performs a healing ritual for my sister.”
“You truly don’t think your people will resent my presence?” Stephanie asked, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of a hand.
“Never,” Runner said thickly. “You will come with me? You will show your concern for my sister by sitting at my side during the healing ceremony?”
“If you truly want me,” Stephanie said softly.
Runner smiled at her as he handed her reins back. She followed him back to the village. They dismounted and went inside Pure Blossom’s hogan. Runner took her by an elbow and guided her to the back of the hogan, to sit with his family. Gray Moon was also there, his dark eyes leveled on Pure Blossom where she lay on a pallet on the floor in the middle of the hogan.
Stephanie scarcely breathed when an elderly man with long, gray hair in a flowing garment entered the hogan. He was carrying a buckskin satchel, which he placed beside Pure Blossom on the floor.
Stephanie glanced at the door as she heard a medicine drum begin its steady rhythmic beats outside, as well as many people singing, the songs to continue unextinguished until Pure Blossom began showing signs of recovery.
Her attention was drawn to the elderly man again. He was chanting and shaking rattles over Pure Blossom. She gathered that this was the “singer” whom Runner had spoken about.
Raptly, she watched the ceremony, finding it beautiful and intriguing, as the “singer” sat down beside Pure Blossom and began creating a sand painting on the floor close to her.
Runner leaned closer to Stephanie. “The creation of the sand painting by the ‘singer’ is an integral part of the healing ceremony,” he said in a low voice. “Watch what he draws—it will have much meaning for Pure Blossom’s recovery. We believe the drawings created by our ‘singers’ are sacred, and so they must be destroyed within twelve hours.”
“I have so much to learn about your customs,” Stephanie said, leaning closer to him.
“And a lifetime in which to learn them,” he whispered back, smiling at her.
She trembled warmly inside as he took one of her hands and held o
nto it as they continued to watch the performance of sand painting, Pure Blossom lying quietly, her eyes still closed.
Stephanie was stunned by the beauty of the drawings as the “singer” allowed colored sand, pollen, powdered roots and stone to sift out of his hand to create the pictures. Runner leaned close and began explaining the meaning behind that which the “singer” was drawing. He told her that bears were thought by the Navaho to possess healing powers. They appeared in each of the quadrants of this sand painting, a design created to restore Pure Blossom’s health.
He told her that the Navaho assigned each direction a color and a power. The east was associated with white lightning, the south with blue sky, the west with yellow sun, and the north with black storm clouds.
“The inner circles of the center of the painting represent the home of the bears,” Runner continued in a low whisper to Stephanie.
The ceremony continued for some time, then Stephanie gasped with surprise when Pure Blossom’s clothes were removed and the “singer” began smoothing something across her body.
“What is that?” Stephanie asked, feeling uncomfortable with Pure Blossom’s nudity. “What is the ‘singer’ using?”
“My sister’s frail body is being rubbed with sand from a bear’s paw print to give her strength,” Runner whispered back.
A hushed silence fell throughout the hogan as the “singer” then knelt down beside Pure Blossom and began feeding her something; she fought back and began choking on the sticky substance.
Stephanie could hardly hold herself back from running to the elderly man to pull him away from Pure Blossom as he continued forcing a strange sort of sticky medicine into her mouth. Yet she settled back and watched, wide-eyed, as Pure Blossom slowly came awake and willingly ate what was being offered her.
“The ‘singer’ has brought her from her sleep,” Runner said, sighing heavily. He glanced over at his mother, whose tears of relief were silver on her face.
He looked at his father, seeing his eyes also brim with tears.
He looked over at Gray Moon, seeing him heave a deep sigh of relief, and realizing that here was a man who cared more for Pure Blossom than perhaps even Gray Moon realized. His love was in his eyes.
“I’m so happy that she is going to be all right,” Stephanie said, feeling herself finally relaxing. “But what is that he fed her to cause her to come around?”
“He fed my sister digested honey from the intestines of a bear,” Runner said matter-of-factly.
Stephanie almost gagged. “Do you mean . . . a . . . dead bear?” she said, shuddering.
“A very dead bear,” Runner said, smiling over at her.
“Well, at least it worked.” Stephanie said, smiling awkwardly over at him.
“Not only what she was fed caused her recovery, but also the sacred sand painting and the singing of the People,” Runner said, taking her elbow and helping her to her feet as everyone else rose and went to stand over Pure Blossom.
The “singer” drew a blanket up to Pure Blossom’s chin, bent over and brushed away his painting and gathered up his mixture of healing products, then left.
The singing outside stopped, replaced by loud chants and shouts of happiness. Stephanie smiled to herself, knowing that the “singer” had spread the good news of Pure Blossom’s recovery.
She stood back and watched as Pure Blossom’s family took turns hugging, kissing, and holding her. Then she knelt down beside the bed and held Pure Blossom’s slight body within her own arms.
“I’m so glad you are going to be all right,” she said, her voice breaking.
When Pure Blossom’s tiny, frail arms twined around Stephanie’s neck and returned her hug, Stephanie knew that everything would be healed between them. Pure Blossom did not hold Stephanie accountable for Adam’s ugly deeds.
“Be happy with my brother,” Pure Blossom whispered into Stephanie’s ear as she clung to her. “Fill his hogan with your sweetness.”
“I shall do everything within my power to make your brother happy,” Stephanie whispered back. “Oh, Pure Blossom, I shall be your best friend, if you will allow it.”
“That would please me so much,” Pure Blossom said. She gave Stephanie a final warm hug, then allowed Stephanie to walk away from her. Gray Moon was the last to come to her, to give her his own warm offerings.
Stephanie slipped an arm through one of Runner’s as she watched Gray Moon kneel down beside Pure Blossom, his arms engulfing her in a long embrace.
“I have dreamed of you often,” Gray Moon whispered into Pure Blossom’s ear. “I just never acted out my dreams. I should have. The rattlesnake almost took them from me.”
Pure Blossom’s eyes widened as she leaned away from him to peer into his dark eyes. “What are you saying? Is it because you pity me? Or because you truly care?” she asked, her pulse racing at the thought of a man truly wanting her.
“I have cared ka-bike-hozhoni, forever,” Gray Moon said quietly, his fingers running through her hair. “I placed too many things ahead of allowing myself to totally love a woman.” His voice caught in his throat. “When I found you lying there, I knew then I was wrong to postpone anything ever again that was of value to me.”
So moved by this tender scene, Stephanie turned her eyes away. She leaned against Runner and closed her eyes, so glad that someone had come into Pure Blossom’s life to make her forget the harm Adam had done her.
Then her eyes widened and her throat went instantly dry when she remembered that Pure Blossom was with child.
Adam’s child.
When Gray Moon heard about the child, would he then feel as free as now to speak of his love for Pure Blossom? Or would he turn his head away in disgust?
Chapter 33
My beloved spoke and said unto me,
Rise up, my love, my fair one,
And come away with me.
—SONG OF SOLOMON
Several days later—
The slow-rising sun flung crimson banners across the sky, but the valley was still in chilly shadow. Her pack mule heavy-laden with her belongings, which did not include any camera equipment, Stephanie stood beside Runner as the engine of the train belched large puffs of smoke into the air as it began taking the private cars away.
Stephanie shifted her gaze and felt a brief tinge of sadness as she watched the work gang ripping the tracks up from the ground, the private spur being dismantled. When she had sent a wire to Wichita, about what Adam had done, and about her decision not to give the Santa Fe shareholders any of the photographs that she had taken, an immediate corporate decision had been made to drop the plans for Adam’s private spur and his town.
“Are you comfortable with your decision not to be on that train?” Runner asked, his eyes following the train as it picked up speed. “Are you certain that you want it to take away all of your photography equipment?” He turned his eyes down to Stephanie and took her hands, drawing her around to face him. “When we first met, your camera seemed most important to you. And now it is on the train, and you are here. How do you truly feel about that, Stephanie?”
“I must admit that I had some misgivings over knowing I won’t be taking any more photographs,” she murmured. “It always made me feel so alive.”
“And now?” Runner persisted, his eyes searching her face. “How do you feel? Do you feel a heavy loss?”
She reached a hand to his cheek. “Not really,” she said, sighing. “You see, darling, I now only feel truly alive when I am with you. My career was important to me only because I had not yet found my true direction in life, or my true purpose for living.” She smiled up at him. “Darling, with you I have found the link that was missing in my life. You are my everything.”
Runner drew her into his arms and gave her a gentle, lingering kiss, then drew away from her and gazed at the pack mule. “You did not take many of your belongings from the train,” he said softly.
“I left most of my travel clothes behind,” she said. Leonida had promised t
hat many beautiful Indian velveteen skirts and blouses would be awaiting her arrival in the village.
She looked at the train again, following it as it rumbled down the tracks toward Gallup. “Other than that, I am only taking with me what the mule can carry,” she murmured. “And that should be enough.”
“You are giving up so much,” Runner said, drawing her around again to face him. “Will you regret it later?”
“Never,” she said with determination.
“We have one last stop to make before going on to my village,” Runner said. “Are you dreading it much?”
Stephanie lowered her eyes to hide the despair in their depths over having finally faced up to the truth that Adam was a demon, someone she had truly never known.
“Am I up to seeing Adam taken from the holding cell at Fort Defiance for a trial in Gallup?” she said, slowly raising her eyes to Runner. “I must confess I will get no pleasure from it.”
“And then the trial?” Runner said, drawing her into his embrace again, hugging her. “That might drag on for months, Stephanie. Will you be able to hold up under that sort of pressure? You will be questioned over and over again about your stepbrother. Will you be able to testify against him, as you must?”
Stephanie twined her arms around him and clung to him, wishing that Adam and the trial were not there to spoil this happiness that she had found with Runner. “I will do what I must,” she said, then eased from his arms again.
Hand in hand, they walked to their horses. “I wish Damon had been found,” Stephanie then said, dread in her voice. “How could he stay in hiding this long? I would think that the authorities would have found him long before now.”
“I am sure that he has fled the country,” Runner said, helping Stephanie into her saddle. He went to his own and mounted. “Yet we must not ever let down our guard.” He glanced at Stephanie’s holstered derringer at her waist. “It is good that you did not send your firearm back with your photography equipment. Until Damon is found and placed behind bars, or strung up in a noose, you must never be without protection when I am not with you.”
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