Books by Linda Conrad

by Conrad, Linda

  “Are you okay?” She stepped to his side and gripped his elbow, steadying him and letting him get his balance.

  “Um…yeah,” he hedged. “Let’s sit on the bench and talk a few minutes before we go back to the house. Okay?”

  “Sure.” She wanted to give him an opportunity to save himself embarrassment. They would chat for a minute. But then she would insist on some answers about his eyesight.

  After they were seated atop the blanket on the surprisingly comfortable wooden benches, she waited for him to start talking.

  “Why’d you decide to become a doctor, Tory? Was someone from your family in medicine?”

  She chuckled at the very idea. “Not hardly. I was the only girl in a family of boy athletes. My father died when I was eight.” In fact, he’d dropped dead of a heart attack right in front of her eyes, but she didn’t think it was necessary to go into the melodramatic details.

  “My mother had to start working three jobs just to make ends meet.” The memory of how she had never cried, not once, tried to interfere with her story but she refused to give it the time.

  “I had to become the mom to my brothers. Fixing the dinner and washing our clothes was the easy part. But it took me a while to get the hang of bandaging cuts and soothing bruises. By the first time I entered a hospital emergency room, I knew that being one of the good guys in the white coats was what I was meant to do.

  “I guess I’m just a natural-born healer,” she added with a small laugh. But it was a revelation from a place buried so deep it surprised even her.

  Ben sat for a moment and let her last thought drift away on a mountain breeze. Again, Tory decided to wait for him to speak first before she interrupted with questions of her own.

  “I became a doctor because that was what my father wanted me to do,” he finally said. “Well, that’s not entirely true. I guess he would’ve preferred that I go into the oil and gas business with him. But my mother was a traditionalist. It horrified her when he sent me off the rez to attend boarding school. To a traditionalist, the Dine should always remain within the four sacred mountains of our homeland. To leave invites the bad spirits in.”

  He shrugged and smiled. “I did well in an Anglo school, but she always wanted me to come home and apprentice as a traditional medicine man. That would’ve been her way of paying off the evil spirits on account of my leaving, and then making things right again.

  “In a small effort to make peace with her,” Ben went on, “my father agreed that if I wanted to go to an Anglo med school, he would pay for it and I could spend my free time back on the rez learning the medicine men ceremonies.”

  “It must have been hard to be caught in the middle like that.”

  Another shoulder shrug told Tory that he would rather not talk about the emotion of that time.

  “Was your mother pleased when you got your degree and came home?” Tory began to sense this conversation was getting too personal for either one of them.

  “My mother died during my first year of med school. Her doctors said it was diabetes-induced heart disease, but the truth is far different. She died of a broken heart and from worrying that the worst possible consequences of my leaving would befall her clan.”

  “So you became a medicine man and now do both as a tribute to your mother?”

  “Sort of. Except I’ve found I have an aptitude for doctoring. Like you, I feel I was born to be a healer.

  “But it’s more than that. There are some terrible things that have been happening to our clan and to the whole of Dinetah in the years since my mother died. And I believe it’s my duty to help the People get back into balance. To right the wrong my leaving the sacred land has caused.”

  The conversation had just turned weird again. Too personal and altogether too strange for her.

  She jumped up and pointed toward his garden. “Look. One of the plants is losing its leaves. And the poor thing has fallen over. Hold on a sec.”

  “Tory…”

  Needing a minute, she left him sitting on the bench and waded out into the inviting green of the garden.

  It wasn’t enough that she was in lust for the first time in her entire life. But to find herself sinking into love with a man who on occasion sounded bipolar was beyond her imagination.

  How had she gotten to this point? Was it some sleight of hand that he had mastered? Or was it some quirk in her own makeup that made her fall for men who were unavailable and all wrong for the long haul?

  There didn’t seem to be any possibility of saving herself from the heartache, though. She knew it deep in her gut—in that place where the instincts she had always relied on to save her stayed close to the surface.

  There, Tory found the sure sense that she would gladly do whatever he needed. And knew she would do whatever it took to stay near him, helping him, until at last, he sent her away.

  It was bound to happen that way. She was well aware that she did not belong here in his world forever.

  Emotion was making her hands tremble, but she found a dried twig in the dirt and used it to prop up the injured plant. Not stopping to think about what she was doing, Tory dripped water from a bucket onto her new patient and on a few surrounding plants that looked wilted.

  Absently, she crooned an old Irish lullaby to the tiny buds while she tried to sort out her feelings for the man who had planted them. But there could be no itemizing of her emotions. They were what they were. She was hopeless.

  Ben’s eyes picked that moment to leave him temporarily blinded. He sat quietly in the shade and used his other senses to imagine her in the garden. But soon he heard her crooning what sounded a little like the chant his mother had sung to him as a boy.

  Tory was singing to plants? The idea made him smile.

  In a few minutes she was back sitting beside him. Her warmth comforted him as his eyesight gradually returned.

  “Is one of those out-of-balance things you mentioned your eye disease?” she inquired abruptly.

  “What were you singing a minute ago?” He’d blurted out the question, hoping to distract her enough to avoid the discussion. But he knew he’d have to tell her eventually anyway.

  “What? Oh. An old Irish lullaby my grandmother used to sing to me. She died when I was about five, but I keep finding myself singing it whenever I’m trying to soothe…

  “Hold it,” she said with a scowl he was glad his eyes could see. “Answer the question, please.”

  A quick shake of his head told Tory he was about to deny anything was wrong, but she raised her hand to stop him. “No use lying about it to me, Ben. I’m a doctor. And I’d like to be your friend.”

  “Ray Hardeen told you I’m going blind, didn’t he?”

  “He mentioned it. But I would’ve seen it for myself eventually anyway. I’ve been trained to spot the symptoms in children who can’t vocalize their problems.

  “You’re not a child,” she continued, chastising him as casually as she dared. “Why haven’t you sought a diagnosis?”

  “There is no cure, Doctor.”

  Her mouth dropped open and it took her a second to get the questions out that were forming in her head. “You’ve been to an ophthalmologist? What’s the diagnosis?”

  Ben leaned his elbows on his knees and stared down, absently, at his clasped hands. This would be the first time he had said the words aloud. Up to now, he’d managed to harbor the hope that it had all been a bad dream. Once it was out in the open, that hope would fade right along with his vision.

  “The ophthalmologist I consulted in Albuquerque has convinced me it’s a condition known as azoor,” he told her. “It’s rare, I guess. But the pathology is caused when the retina at the back of the eye malfunctions due to inflammation. The symptoms include—”

  “Flashing lights and an enlarged blind spot,” she interrupted. “I took a class in rare eye diseases as an elective. From what I remember of this one, the area of visual loss may spread for a time and then become stable.

  “In most pa
tients,” she went on as if by rote, “the retina recovers its function and a complete return of vision happens over a period of one to three years.”

  Hesitating, she finished as if she didn’t want to remember the last part. “But in a small percentage of cases, sight is not recovered and eventually structural changes at the back of the eye take place. There is no known treatment for this condition.”

  “Excellent memory, Tory.”

  “I have a form of what’s known as photographic recall,” she agreed. “It’s always been a lot easier to memorize and bring back the facts than it is to work with actual patients. If they just list their symptoms, I can diagnose and know how to begin treatment within a few seconds.”

  “I would’ve thought you’d be good with people,” he told her as gently as possible. “You can be my doctor anytime.” He had a feeling this might be a tender subject for her.

  “I don’t have enough patience to work well with adults. It’s one of the reasons I’d hoped to work with kids,” she admitted. “I’m always…jumping in…wanting to fix things. When what I should do is take my time.”

  Ben let that thought slide by unchallenged. There were a couple of times when rushing was exactly the right way to go, as he remembered. But then again, slow and steady had always been his favorite style. In most instances, that is.

  Swearing softly under his breath, he fought the images of slowly peeling off Tory’s clothing and easing himself into her waiting warmth. Damn it. Where was all this sexual hunger suddenly coming from?

  He had made that vow of celibacy with the Brotherhood, and it’d been easy up until now to abide by the rules. The other members of the Brotherhood had been having their problems with the vow and at least one had decided to discard it.

  Ben had so far refused to give in to any temptation. But being near Tory was sorely testing his resolve.

  “So what are you going to do about your blindness?”

  Her blatant jump right in made him laugh out loud. “You really aren’t able to stay quiet, are you?” he asked past a choked rasp. “Are you always so pushy?”

  “That’s what my mother used to say. Her exact words were, ‘stick your nose in other peoples’ affairs often enough and you’re apt to have it cut off.’”

  “Well in my case, I don’t mind the questions,” he told her with another chuckle. “But the truth is there is nothing to be done except wait to see how bad this is going to get.”

  “But…”

  He smiled at her, thinking how spectacular her cornsilk hair looked in the sunshine, and shook his head. “I’m coming to terms with it. There are lots of things worse than blindness in this world.

  “The biggest problem is my practice,” he went on. “Because my patients see me as a crystal gazer, losing my eyesight is the absolute worst possible outcome. It would be a sign of witchcraft to the elder traditionalists. They’ll refuse to come anywhere near me for fear I might witch them, too.”

  For the first time since he’d known her, Tory sat quietly, lost in thought. He wasn’t sure what was happening in that beautiful and smart head of hers. But he surprised himself by wanting to hold her hand while it happened.

  He didn’t touch her, though. That was just one step beyond what he thought was appropriate between doctor colleagues. Even ones that were fast becoming friends.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” she finally said. “If I can get Dr. Hardeen to agree, I’ll drive you around to see patients and work with you here in your clinic several days a week. At least until we can tell for sure whether your blindness will be permanent or not.”

  “Ray will be happy about the deal, don’t worry about that. He wants my patients to continue receiving adequate medical treatment. What is my part of the bargain?”

  “I want you to teach me the legends, the ceremonies and help me get a start on the language.”

  He nodded his head, delighted that she’d come up with it herself.

  “But mostly I want to learn more about the plants. I am fascinated by all that stuff. Teach me what you know.”

  “Certainly,” he agreed. “But there are others who know much more than I do. Perhaps…” He let the thought drop and held his breath.

  Tory wondered why Ben had stopped talking in the middle of a sentence. He was staring off toward the back deck of his home with a startled look on his face.

  Was his eyesight suddenly worsening? Or maybe it was going the other way. What a blessing that would be.

  She turned her face to glance in the same direction as he did and was surprised to see an older woman coming toward them across the field. “Who’s that?”

  “I almost don’t believe my own eyes. That’s the medicine men’s Plant Tender, Shirley Nez. I was just about to mention her to you, and there she is.”

  Tory got to her feet. “Well, I guess it must be Navajo magic. Mind over matter.”

  “Very funny,” Ben grumbled as he, too, stood up. “Every culture has strange coincidences. Even an uptight one like yours.”

  Uptight? Was that what he thought of her? More to the point, was it true?

  “Ya’aat’eeh,” the older woman called out as she came near.

  “Ya’aat’eeh,” Ben answered with a nod. “I have someone I’d like for you to meet. Shirley Nez, this is—”

  “The doctor known as Tory Sommer,” Shirley broke in. “I’m glad to have the opportunity to meet you at last, Doctor.”

  “Please call me Tory. And the pleasure is mine, Shirley.”

  A nicely dressed woman in her early fifties, Shirley returned her smile.

  “We were just speaking of this doctor’s need to learn the Navajo Way.” Ben’s face had turned down in a frown as he spoke to the older woman.

  “If one wants to know the Way, there can be no mistakes on the journey,” Shirley said, shaking her head at Tory. “Knowledge is a breathing thing that is meant to be shared. To try is a sign of wisdom, not of being out of balance.”

  “Have I offended you? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.” Tory was beyond confused.

  “Traditional Dine do not like to be called by their proper Anglo names,” Ben told her. “It’s disrespectful.”

  “Sadly, most of our young people ignore this tradition amongst themselves,” Shirley said. “They have become modernized at schools. Since you see mostly modern Dine, there would be no way for you to have known.”

  Tory felt the smile spreading across her own face. She really liked this gray-haired lady in the navy pantsuit who had just gone out of her way to make the new kid on the block feel more comfortable.

  “She’s going to be helping me out here, and I’ve agreed to teach her some of the Way,” Ben told Shirley. “But she’s also very interested in the Plant Clan. I’d hoped that you would have the time to spend with her so she might learn about our neighbors and friends.”

  The Plant Clan? Tory resisted the urge to make a remark. She was beginning to accept that perhaps she should spend more of her time in keeping quiet and listening than in asking questions or jumping to conclusions.

  She watched Shirley’s eyes narrow as the woman seemed to be scrutinizing her. Reaching one hand out, Shirley lightly touched Tory’s hair.

  “Interesting. You are quite fair, and yet I sense that…” Shirley hesitated, dropped her hand and turned back to Ben. “Yes. If she is willing to devote the effort, I will be happy to teach the lessons she needs.”

  “Thank you.” Both Ben and Tory spoke at the same time.

  “That’s most generous, Plant Tender,” Ben continued. “By the way, we have had an encounter this morning with an unusual raven.”

  Tory was startled by his quick change in the direction of the conversation, but decided it was still not smart to say anything. Something was sparking between the two Navajos. Something they obviously didn’t want to share.

  “Was it daylight?” Shirley asked him.

  He nodded. “The sun was already over Beautiful Mountain, yes.”

  “Why do
n’t you take a moment to call one of your cousins and tell them of your experience,” Shirley said quietly. “I wish to speak to this young woman alone for a few minutes.”

  With another quick nod, Ben turned to Tory. “I’ll be back shortly. You’ll be safe out here with Shirley. She’s very special to us, and one of the wisest people I’ve ever met. Listen to her with an open heart.”

  Safe? What a strange way for him to put it.

  “Can you make it back inside by yourself?” Tory stopped him to ask about his eyesight, but she wasn’t sure Shirley knew of his problem so she was caging her words.

  “No sweat. I won’t be gone long.” With that, Ben turned and strode toward the house.

  “His vision still comes and goes,” Shirley said after Ben had disappeared into the house. “It makes it harder for him because he never knows what to expect at any time.”

  “He told you?”

  “Yes. But his family and friends have no idea. Our young heart still hopes for a reprieve.”

  “Young heart?”

  “Ben Wauneka belongs to a society of medicine men known only as the Brotherhood. They are all related in some way—most of them are clan cousins. Their group was formed for…uh…protection and informational purposes.

  “The doctor is the true heart of the society,” Shirley continued. “He seeks a return to the old ways. His desire is to put things in Dinetah back into harmony, not by force but by spirit. And he reminds us all of our heritage and our vows.”

  “Are things out of ‘harmony’ here?”

  “It seems so. But it is not for you to worry about. When you hear of the Brotherhood, know that there is nothing for you to fear.”

  What a surprising thing for a nearly complete stranger to say. Tory was already feeling out of harmony herself.

  Shirley took her hand. “Our ‘heart’ needs protection, and so far he has refused all offers. But it looks as if he has chosen you. I am pleased. You have a strong spirit and a curious mind. You’ll be good for him.”

  “Ben needs protection? From what?”