Shaking her head, Shirley lifted a hand to brush back a strand of hair that had blown in her face. “That is not for me to say. But he could use a good friend and companion by his side through his journey of trials.”
All of a sudden, Tory wanted nothing more than to be Ben’s good friend. To help him through his upcoming months of vision problems and unsettled clinical practice. She wasn’t sure why this woman’s telling her she had a strong spirit made her so determined to prove it was true.
But strong spirit or not, Tory was still absolutely convinced that by the end of Ben’s trials, her own heart would be wounded beyond the reach of any emotional first aid. Being doomed to pain didn’t seem to make much of a difference to her, though.
“I have one more thing to say and then I will leave you two to work together.” Shirley picked up Tory’s other hand and turned them both palms up, staring down at them as she talked. “The Plant Clan is a critical part of the rituals and ceremonies of the medicine men. In fact without them, the Navajos’ whole way of life would come to an end.”
Shirley sighed and then looked into her eyes. “It is my calling to tend to the health of our friends the plants. I will teach you much more than how to plant and tend a garden. I will teach you to recognize each variety, know their uses and…where they are commonly found in Dinetah.”
That last part seemed difficult for Shirley to say. Tory found herself asking a question, even though she had vowed to listen instead. “Is that especially hard to do? Learn where each kind grows the best?”
“Not hard. But it is a secret few people are allowed to share. The medicine men know. They must in order to perform their rituals. But the knowledge is sacred. Not many others have ever been allowed that privilege. It is passed down through the generations to only a chosen group.”
“And you’re going to tell me? But why? I’m not even Navajo.” She pulled her hands to her sides.
“That is also not for me to say. But I have seen in your eyes that you will be a Plant Tender. You are one that the Plant Clan will respect and accept.”
Shirley ended by declaring, “We will begin our studies in the next day or two.”
Tory’s mouth was hanging open again. Why did these people have to say the most amazing things when she was least expecting it?
“Excuse me,” Ben called out as he walked across the lawn toward them. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it seems I am needed at the Raven Wash gym.”
“Has the school requested a curing ceremony to remove the chindi?” Shirley asked.
He nodded. “And no one else is available. The FBI just took away the police tape lines and the school would like to get back inside this evening so the basketball team can practice on their court.”
“Wait a second,” Tory blurted. “You lost me. Chindi?”
“If you’ll agree to drive me down to the gym,” Ben bargained, “I’ll explain it to you on the way. I’d meant to ask you for a ride down to my SUV anyway. It’s still parked in the school’s lot.”
“You can’t drive,” Tory told him.
“Yes,” Shirley agreed. “It will be too dangerous for you to drive now that your vision goes more often.”
Ben held his hands up, palms out in surrender. “I wasn’t planning on driving. I’d hoped Tory would agree to take my SUV from now on. It’s a lot safer vehicle to drive up in these cliffs than her old sedan.”
Raising his eyebrows, he dropped his hands and smiled. “Is that okay with everyone?”
“Good. Good.” Shirley smiled. “I must go now. I will be in contact with you both.” With that last pronouncement, she turned and walked away.
Tory fought to get her voice back. “That is the most amazing woman,” she managed at last. “Shirley just told me that I will become a Plant Tender like she is. I don’t even know if I can grow living things or not, and now I’m going to be a Navajo Plant Tender. Do you think she was serious?”
“I’ve known Shirley Nez since I was born. She and my mother were cousins and good friends. And I have never heard her make a joke like that. If she says you will be a Plant Tender, count on it happening.”
7
G etting down the mountain in one piece and moving over to his SUV couldn’t come too soon for Ben. Or for the sake of his poor backside. While Tory’s old beat-up sedan bumped and wheezed along the rough shale, it was jarring both of their bodies beyond remedy.
As shaken as he felt physically, it didn’t hold a candle to the earthquakes going on inside his brain. He’d tried hard to put the difficult things aside. But every time he had managed to think of anything else, his mind always came right back to a soft pair of gray-blue eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked her between potholes.
“I will be when we get off this so-called road. Just try not to distract me in the meantime, please.”
Okay, so he couldn’t talk in order to keep himself occupied. And looking out the window was becoming problematic. He would see but a few of the familiar landscapes when all of a sudden his blind spot would grow and he ended up focusing on nothing but darkness.
Just then, the whispered notes of a baby’s lullaby drifted through his subconscious the same way the warm spring breezes were gently blowing across his skin. The white woman doctor actually sang songs to plants. He hadn’t heard anyone do that since his grandmother had been alive.
His thoughts went straight to the way Tory had jumped in front of him, using her own body to save him from a fall—several times now. She had listened intently to explanations of a culture that must seem like nonsense to someone who’d been raised in an Anglo world.
Most of all, she’d tried her damnedest to understand the Navajo philosophy and to find ways of being useful to him and to the Dine.
But absolutely none of those things were good enough reasons for a man to decide he was falling in love.
With a swift and silent curse, Ben chided himself. Love? Not him. And certainly not with a bilagáana woman.
Overpowering lust, that was all it was. He’d been having perfectly normal human responses as any male might to a very attractive woman. Not much more than could be expected from an enforced abstinence for the last three years.
But he would never allow himself to become involved with her beyond just lust and friendship. Loving an Anglo could very well be the ultimate disrespect to the memory of his traditional mother, who had been so steeped in Dine culture.
Once again, he tried focusing on the apricot glow from the sandstone cliffs of his homeland. And once again, his vision shifted in and out of focus.
He shook his head, but the memory of hearing Tory’s story about becoming both mother and father to her brothers at such a tender age haunted him. There seemed no way of stopping the thoughts of how gray and sad her world must’ve been while his young life had been so full of love and color.
Yes, his lust was probably a normal function. But somehow, hearing her sing that lullaby to a plant had shaken his world.
All his plants looked perkier. The Brotherhood’s mentor, Shirley Nez the Plant Tender, had actually smiled for the first time in many years. Ben was even beginning to hope that the Yei might yet intercede on his behalf and save his eyesight.
The whole thing pissed him off.
Hell. If he was really destined to lose his vision for good, he wanted the sight of soft gray-blue eyes and cornsilk blond hair to be the very last things he ever saw.
The mountains, ravines and canyons of Dinetah were already burned into his memory. They were a part of him, like the very nucleus of his cell structure.
He wanted the image of Tory to be that same way. A part of his memories for all time. Damn it.
Maybe he should give in to the lust. Let it wash over and consume him so the other deeper emotions connected to her would be pushed into the background of his mind.
Blurred sights and sharpened images of his beloved land passed by outside the sedan on the periphery of his vision. But he couldn’t stop thinking of touchin
g her—kissing her. He felt like a traitor to his beliefs.
A strange, feral noise suddenly broke into his reverie. And just that quickly, everything changed—again.
Danger. The Skinwalker war. The Brotherhood and what they stood for. All of it rushed back in through the open window with the shrill shriek of a large bird.
In one split second, Ben concluded he was actually grateful for the threat. He needed the distance and the reminder of what his life was really like.
“Tory, pull over.”
“What? But there’s no shoulder here. Can you wait a second until—”
“Pull over as close as possible to the cliff and stop. Now.”
The tone in Ben’s voice alerted her to the danger. Tory threw on the brakes, dragged the wheel to the left and ended up parked under the thick ledge of a granite shelf.
“Get out,” he demanded as he shoved aside his seat belt. “Get out of the car.”
If she’d had a moment to think, her unquestioning and quick response to his demands would’ve seemed odd. Not like her at all. But there was no time for thoughts as she jumped out of the car and dashed around to take his arm.
“Ben. Ben. I don’t—”
“Let’s go.”
Instead of letting her help steady him, he grabbed her around the waist and turned them both in the direction of the sheer walls of the mountain beside the car. With sure and steady steps, he led her toward what might have been classified as a path, or maybe as a rough sort of stairs, that headed straight up the side of the cliff.
“Where are you taking me? And why?” she stammered.
“Up,” he breathed with a hoarse rasp. “We’re going up. Stay calm. I’ll carry you.”
“You’ll do what? But why? How?”
Ben didn’t seem able to waste the breath necessary to answer her. With his muscled arm still around her waist, he lifted her a few inches off the ground and began climbing. She gasped once, threw her arm around his neck and held on.
The slight edge of terror she’d felt when he’d spoken so sharply in the car overpowered her now with a vengeance. She closed her eyes and tried to keep her body from shaking itself right out of his arms.
Funny, but she trusted him implicitly. If Ben felt he could carry her upward through loose rocks and around shale spires without being able to see, then she would shut up and let him.
With her eyes closed, Tory’s dream from last night blasted back into her conscious mind. This was her dream. Ben carrying her up the side of a rocky cliff away from danger.
She blinked open her eyes enough to see the side of his face as he tensed his jaw with the effort of carrying them both. He wore no war paint this time. And he had on a perfectly civilized long-sleeved cotton shirt instead of being naked from the waist up.
But he was wearing the same pale blue sash on his forehead as in her dream. He’d told her before they had left his home that it was part of the traditional medicine man’s “uniform,” along with the dark jeans and the silver-and-turquoise jewelry.
Now he was even whispering the same rhythmic chants as he had in her dream. This might just be the strangest thing that ever happened to her. Dream or no dream.
In a few minutes of his determined effort, the two of them finally reached a narrow plateau. He eased her down to her feet and then rushed them both back into a slight indentation in the sandstone slab that made a kind of shallow cave.
All the while, he never stopped the whispered chants.
She could stand it no longer. “What’s after us?”
“After us?” He stared down at her and she knew he was actually seeing her face this time. “Nothing. But…”
The ground beneath their feet began to roll, cutting off his words. Then a sudden rumble split the air around them. The noise became a deafening roar as small pebbles, then loose rocks and finally huge boulders rained down the sheer cliff past the safety of their indentation.
Tory buried her face against his chest. “Ohmigod.”
The landslide lasted longer than he’d expected. Ben wasn’t sure why the shriek of the bird had been the warning he had needed to really pay attention to the vibrations and get them out of the car. But he’d sensed the earth’s movement and had known they would only be safe on higher ground.
When it was finally over, the dust from below rose up to surround their position with choking particles of shattered earth. He kept Tory’s face tight against his chest with a hand at the back of her head. Burying his own face in her silky hair, he wrapped his arms around her to keep her close and safe.
This had been a Skinwalker attack. Those vibrations he’d noticed were the same ones he and the Brotherhood had come to recognize as a signal. He felt sure of it.
But the reason for the attack, and the fact that it had happened in broad daylight, were beyond his knowledge.
Was there some reason Tory had become a target? Or was it him they had wanted to destroy? Either way seemed strange, even for Skinwalkers.
He could be no real threat to them with the onset of his blindness. And Tory was not a Brotherhood warrior. In fact, she had few friends and no power in Dinetah—and certainly no allies.
Except for him.
At last, the cloud of dust particles settled and he eased slightly back from her. Just far enough to reach the cell phone in his pocket. He pressed the one button that would reach the Brotherhood and waited.
Not more than a second later, Kody Long answered his call. “Are you okay, cousin?”
“You know about the landslide?”
“Yes,” Kody told him. “The Bird People informed us of the attack in progress. Michael Ayze is the closest to you. He should be at your position in a few minutes. I’m not far behind. Stay put.”
As if they had any choice, Ben thought as he hung up the phone. His eyesight had gone dark again. And there was no way for him to know if showing themselves now might be exactly what the Skinwalkers were hoping for.
Were the evil ones lying in wait somewhere nearby? Or had the sacred chants he’d said worked to push them away?
Tory began to cough and lifted her forehead from his chest, but their bodies continued to touch. What was he going to tell her? It would be especially hard to think of something since he couldn’t watch her expression as he made up a story. His cave of blindness was back in full force.
The violence of her coughing spasms tore at his emotions. He’d almost lost her, and he hadn’t yet had the opportunity to memorize her face.
As gently as possible, he raised his hands and lifted her chin so she could breathe better. But the soft feel of her skin beneath his fingers made him hungry for more. Perhaps he could let his other senses make the memories for his eyes.
“You’ll be okay,” he whispered. “Stay calm and breathe through your mouth for a minute.”
Using just the pads of his fingers, Ben touched her chin, forehead and the tip of her nose. He felt her go still beneath his tender strokes.
Other senses begged to join in the memory game. Cradling her face in both hands, he bent and let his sense of taste take a turn.
Her parted lips were every bit as soft and inviting as he’d been imagining. She tasted fresh and wild, like the earth of his home. And he fell into the miracle of her kiss.
As he stroked her lips and then eased his tongue inside her mouth, she started making tiny mewing sounds. Low, but urgent in the back of her throat.
That special scent of hers began to surround him with the wonders of her womanhood. She smelled of sage and something a little more spicy, like piñon tea—all earthy and robust and so alive it made him instantly hard.
His fingertips dropped to the long, silken length of her slender neck. Would she be flushing under his touch? As fair as she was, he’d be willing to bet on it.
But oh, how he wished to see it for himself. To watch her eyes glaze over as he found all the sensitive spots and pleasured her with both his touch and his kiss.
Running his forefinger down the valley b
etween her breasts, he let his imagination fill in all the rounded curves and soft places he was dying to see. He popped the top button on her flannel work shirt and bent his head to let his lips and tongue follow his hands to places unseen.
Tory breathed out a sharp gasp and used her hands to push at his shoulders. “Ben, stop. Please stop. This isn’t the time for…”
“Ya’at’eeh, my cousin. Where are you?” A deep male voice, coming from right outside their hiding place, brought him out of the sensual stupor with a thud of reality.
Ben dropped his hands, leaned back and gave Tory a chance to straighten her clothes. Still not able to see anything, he was aware they were both covered in dust and had feared they might be buried under heavy rubble.
“Here, cousin.” Ben called out to the voice he knew belonged to Michael Ayze. He was amazed at how fast the Brotherhood member had found them.
“Hang on to me,” Tory said as she placed his hands on her shoulders. “Let me help you get out of here.”
Ben’s cousin, Michael Ayze, turned out to be a big guy. A burly fellow, with sensitive, intelligent eyes, he’d easily helped lift them both out of their slit in the rocks. Later, when they were back on solid ground, he’d told her he was a professor at Dine College and that he often participated in archaeological digs in the nearby areas. That was why he had located them so quickly.
They were safe, but she couldn’t say as much for her car. It was buried under a ton of sandstone rocks and boulders. And according to the tribal police, it wouldn’t ever be possible to put it back together.
Kody Long, another of Ben’s cousins who’d introduced himself as a local FBI special agent, had offered to give them a lift down to Ben’s SUV. As she and Ben rode in the high backseat of Kody’s truck, Tory realized how different and smooth the ride felt in a vehicle meant for these rough conditions.
Ben—wonderful Ben—had not let go of her for one second since their rescue.
True, his eyesight had gone out again on the mountain and hadn’t come back. But Tory got the feeling that it was more than his just needing her eyes to lead him. He seemed to be okay with that detail.
Books by Linda Conrad Page 42