Warrior's Embrace
Page 56
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Alexandria, Virginia
Martha’s suitcases lay open on the bed. Outside her open French doors she could hear Cousin Clara whistling as she walked toward the paddocks, where she would leave explicit and lengthy instructions for the care of her Thoroughbreds.
One last dress hung in the closet, waiting to be packed, a blue sequined gown that Clara had said made her look classy but available, like a woman who might be interested in a man but didn’t necessarily need one. Martha took the dress off the hanger and held it against her body, then twisted around to see herself in the mirror.
She looked like what she was, an old woman trying to appear young.
“Silly old fool,” she said. But she put the dress into the suitcase anyhow. No sense in going off to Europe half cocked, which was another of Clara’s favorite sayings, one she’d used the day they went shopping together for their trip.
“Clara, you’re going to corrupt me,” Martha had said.
“It’s high time somebody did.”
Martha went through the French doors and stood on the balcony, watching her cousin. Clara strode through the paddocks like a woman who knew exactly where she was going and what she was going to do when she got there.
Martha envied that, Clara’s sense of purpose. She herself still felt as if she were drifting around in a little boat in a big, scary sea. She wondered if she would ever be able to find any direction without Kate ...and without Mick.
At the thought of her husband, her hand flew over her heart, and she thought she might be turning into one of those women who suffered dizzy spells.
“Martha.”
As if her thoughts had popped out of her head and become real, Mick stood in the center of the room next to her bed, where the blue sequined gown spilled out of the suitcase.
“Mick ...I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.”
Mick Malone apologizing? Was the world coming to an end?
“You look good, Martha.”
Suddenly she was glad that she’d dyed her hair red and that her dress was pink, and that her new shoes made her look three inches taller.
“Thank you, Mick.”
He glanced at her suitcase, and then back at her, suddenly an old man, his bones shrunken too small for his skin and his bluster nothing more than a faint breeze.
“Are you going somewhere, Martha?”
Was she? Even with Mick standing in the room?
“Yes. Clara and I are taking a little jaunt to Europe.”
He stood watching her while the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed the hour. Then slowly he moved across the room.
“Am I too late?”
Almost shyly he reached out and squeezed her hand. She wished he would tell her that he loved her, tell her that he was sorry for all the months and years of isolation. But it was enough that he had come.
“No, Mick. You’re not too late.”
Chapter 42
Witch Dance
Indian paintbrush colored the hills and red-tailed hawks wheeled upward to the burning blue sky. Eagle rode hard, his long hair braided and blowing in the wind. Just the other side of the ridge, Kate’s clinic stood under the trees with an OPEN sign on the door. He hadn’t seen it, but he knew.
Governor Eagle Mingo knew everything ...except how to live with a broken heart.
He raced toward the Blue River and, stripped naked, swam until his arms were heavy. Lying on a rock, he let the sun dry his skin while the seductive music of the river called to him.
Kate. Kate.
He heard her name everywhere, in the voice of the river and the silence of the stars, in the new dawning of the east and the gentle sleeping of the west. At last, his skin warm from the sun, he rode toward his father’s house.
Winston sat in his favorite chair under the trees, propped up by cushions and shelling peas from Dovie’s garden.
“I thought you might come today,” Winston said.
Today. An auspicious occasion. A turning point.
The wedding invitation lay open on Eagle’s hall table, engraved with their names, Anna Mingo and Larry Carnathan.
Eagle dismounted and leaned against the trunk of a massive oak.
“Are you and Mother all right?”
Winston’s black eyes could still pierce in spite of his age and his illness.
“What use is it to keep trying to fly with a broken wing?” Winston popped open the green pods and forced the peas out with his thumbnail. “The old ways are disappearing, Eagle. Nothing we can say or do will stop that.” He cast the empty shell carefully into the open paper sack sitting beside his chair; then he studied his son. “Dovie and I are fine. How about you?”
“Kate lives and breathes no more than fifteen minutes away from my ranch, and I am separated from her by honor and duty and a tradition that I can no longer justify.”
“Where is the honor if your heart shrivels within you? What is duty that it should steal your happiness?”
“Our nation ...even our family is becoming homogenized.”
“One man alone can’t stop it.” Winston reached for the peas, and concentrated as he popped them into the pottery bowl he held on his lap. “In my illness, I’ve had much time to think, and I’ve come to believe that courage is more important than blood.”
The courage of a woman who rebuilt her clinic from ashes. Eagle pushed away from the tree and knelt beside his father’s chair to help shell the peas.
“...And that old blood can become stagnant if it’s not mixed with new,” Eagle added.
“You’ve given this much thought,” Winston said.
“Yes. I was compelled to. The roots of my heart are forever entangled with Kate Malone’s, and the strongest winds cannot separate us.”
A breeze ruffled Winston’s long gray hair as he silently performed the task that Dovie had set for him. Eagle waited beside the chair, his hands moving among the peas and his heart already flying across the prairie.
“And what conclusions have you come to?” Winston asked finally.
“A wise leader can adopt the exigencies of modern society and yet retain tribal heritage.”
“You are very wise, my son.”
o0o
Kate escorted her patient to the door—Bethany Martin, her face shriveled like a prune and her hands curled under with the arthritis that constantly plagued her.
“I knew you’d be back.” Bethany gave her a toothless grin, then pressed a box into her hands, its sides greasy from the cookies that were stacked inside.
“And how did you know that, Mrs. Martin? Are you taking up clairvoyance as well as needlepoint and cookie making?”
“Nope. Plain old common sense.” She tapped Kate’s chest with a knotty finger. “You’ve got a stout Chickasaw heart. You’re unconquered and unconquerable.”
“You bet your sweet boots, I am. Nobody’s going to drive me out of Witch Dance again. Not ever.”
Bethany giggled. “My boots are no longer young and sweet, but they still get me where I’m going.”
Kate watched as the old woman climbed into her car, adjusted her hat then set off in a cloud of dust.
Her first patient. And there would be many more.
When the dust settled, she tipped her face to the sky and the noonday sun fell over her like a benediction. There was a new warmth to the sun, a new welcome in the sky. Kate knew that she was finally home.
She had turned to go back inside her clinic, when she heard the thundering of horse’s hooves. Shading her eyes, she looked into the distance.
Eagle Mingo rode into view.
He stopped at the top of the hill, backlit by the sun. Hope thrummed through her, but she stood still at the door, not yet trusting, not yet believing. On the hillside Eagle dismounted and stood gazing down at her as if he, too, could neither trust nor believe.
Suddenly the silence was rent with the cry of an eagle. As the majestic bird spiraled upward, the
sun lay along his wings and spread its heat outward, burning, until the glow touched their hearts.
Without taking his gaze from Kate, Eagle bent to gather a bouquet of Indian paintbrush. She reached behind her and turned the sign on the clinic door. CLOSED FOR THE DAY.
Eagle mounted his stallion, then, holding the flowers high as he might carry a banner of victory, he raced down the hill, riding hard, straight toward the clinic. Kate cast aside her white lab coat and started running, running to meet the future.
When the horse was even with her, Eagle dismounted. His eyes never left hers as he held out his hand.
“Waka ahina uno, iskunosi Wictonaye. Waka.”
“Yes,” she said, reaching out to him. His hand closed around hers.
“This time forever,” he said.
Epilogue
The Eagle
The river sang its timeless song, and out of its waters rose the Eagle, magnificent and golden.
The sun slanted along his wings and reached outward, spreading its warmth to the one who lay upon the colored blanket, touching her hair with fire.
His heart. His soul. His mate.
He glided downward softly, tenderly, folding her in his wings until he was lost in the deep womb that had nourished his sons
The End
.
Acknowledgments
I want to thank the following people who so generously shared their time and talent with me during the writing of this book: Glenda Galvan, Chickasaw Nation, Ada, Oklahoma; Buddy Palmer, Julian Riley, and the staff of the Lee County Library, Tupelo, Mississippi, for sharing their knowledge of Chickasaw history; Dr. Charles Montgomery and Ruth Ann Wilson, R.N., Tupelo, for medical information; and Dr. Lynn Cox, All Animal Hospital, also of Tupelo, for unabashedly describing the mating ritual of horses.
A special thanks to Earl J. Cacho of Victorville, California, for allowing me to use his face on the original cover. A renowned wildlife and western artist, Earl is from the Tarasco tribe of Michoacan, Mexico.
I’ve taken literary license with some of the magnificent Indian customs and legends, and I take full responsibility for any errors I might have made in portraying the sickness that stalked the Chickasaw children. In any event, I could not have written Witch Dance without the help of these wonderful people, and I am eternally grateful to them.
-o0o-
NEW FROM PEGGY WEBB AKA ELAINE HUSSEY
The Language of Silence by Peggy Webb (September, 2014, Simon & Schuster). Review: “Following in the footsteps of her tiger-taming grandmother, a woman flees her abusive husband to join the circus in this masterful, heartfelt work of women’s fiction.” Trade paperback, audio and ebook.
The Oleander Sisters by Elaine Hussey (August, 2014, MIRA). In summer when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon and Hurricane Camille blew away the Mississippi Gulf Coast, sisters discover just how far they will go to save someone they love.
Phantom of Riverside Park by Peggy Webb (March, 2014). Review: “Lyrical and deeply moving.”
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ABOUT PEGGY WEBB
Peggy Webb is a USA Today best-selling author from Mississippi with 70 books to her credit. She writes romance, women’s fiction and the hilarious Southern Cousins cozy mystery series starring Elvis, the basset hound who thinks he’s the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll reincarnated. Her peers call her a “comic genius.” She also writes literary fiction under the pen names Anna Michaels (for Simon & Schuster) and Elaine Hussey (The Sweetest Hallelujah, MIRA, July 30, 2013). Pat Conroy calls her literary work “astonishing.” This critically acclaimed author has won many awards, including a Romantic Times Pioneer Award for creating the sub-genre of romantic comedy. Several of her romances have been optioned for film.
Peggy is a member of Novelists, Inc., Authors Guild, International Thriller Writers, and Romance Writers of America. She is excited about bringing her romance classics back to readers as E-books. The award-winning Touched by Angels and A Prince for Jenny, as well as the Donovans of the Delta series, have all been Kindle Top 100 bestsellers.
Follow the author on her websites: www.peggywebb.com/and www.elainehussey.com/ and on Facebook and Twitter.
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OTHER EBOOKS FROM PEGGY WEBB
Classic Romance
Dark Fire
Touched by Angels (RT Reviewer’s Choice)
A Prince for Jenny, sequel to Touched by Angels
The Edge of Paradise
Duplicity (Rave review, RT Reviewer’s Choice)
Where Dolphins Go (RT Reviewer’s Choice, women’s fiction, optioned for film)
Night of the Dragon (time travel romance)
Christmas in Time (time travel, prequel to Only Yesterday)
Only Yesterday, (time travel, sequel to Christmas in Time)
Summer Jazz
Taming Maggie (#1 on romance bestseller list)
That Jones Girl (sequel to the Mississippi McGills series)
Where Dolphins Go
The Donovans of the Delta Series:
Donovan’s Angel (Paul Donovan’s story)
Sleepless Nights (Tanner Donovan’s story)
Hallie’s Destiny (award winning book, Hallie Donovan’s story)
Any Thursday (Hannah Donovan’s story)
Higher Than Eagles (Jacob Donovan’s story)
The Mississippi McGills Series (spin-off from Donovans of the Delta)
Valley of Fire (Rick McGill’s story)
Until Morning Comes (Jo Beth McGill and Colter Gray Wolf’s story)
Saturday Mornings (Andrew McGill’s story)
Forever Friends series
Can’t Stop Loving You (Book 1, Helen’s story)
Only His Touch (Kat’s story, Book 2)
Bringing Up Baxter (B. J.’s story, Book 3)
Angels on Zebras (Maxie’s story, Book 4)
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles (7 book series)
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Belinda,
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Janet,
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Molly
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Bea
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Clementine
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Joanna
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Catherine
Romantic Suspense
Witch Dance
From a Distance
Boxed Sets
Donovans of the Delta
Finding Mr. Perfect
Finding Paradise
Forever Friends, Finally Brides
Time’s Embrace
Warrior’s Embrace
Southern Cousins Mysteries
Elvis and the Dearly Departed, 2008
Elvis and the Grateful Dead, 2009
Elvis and the Memphis Mambo Murders, 2010
Elvis and the Tropical Double Trouble, 2011
Elvis and the Blue Christmas Corpse, 2012
Jack Loves Callie Tender (series prequel and companion guide), 2013
Elvis and the Bridegroom Stiffs, spring 2014
Elvis and the Deadly Love Letters, a short story, Feb. 2014
Elvis and the Buried Brides, fall 2014
Literary Fiction
*The Language of Silence (Gallery, Simon & Schuster), July 30, 2014
Phantom of Riverside Park, March, 2014
*The Sweetest Hallelujah by Elaine Hussey (MIRA, July 30, 2013)
*The Oleander Sisters by Elaine Hussey (MIRA, July 30, 2014)
*The Tender Mercy of Roses by Anna Michaels (Simon & Schuster),
(*available in trade paperback, audio and ebook)
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