Books by Linda Conrad

by Conrad, Linda

  Well, it was true. The one thing she wanted most in the world was for Hunter to need her.

  She took a big breath and forced a smile. “Okay, then. I guess I’m ready. Let the sing begin.”

  Two mornings later, Bailey emerged from the ceremonial hogan and faced the rising sun. A fleeting thought about her appearance came to the forefront of her mind.

  If she’d imagined she looked ragged before the ceremony, the sight of her now would probably scare away little children. Her face was streaked with charcoal stripes, put there by Michael during the sing. She hadn’t had a shower in two days. And the remains of several hastily eaten meals stained the front of the deep maroon skirt and blouse that Mrs. Long had given her to wear when she’d begun the ceremony over two days ago.

  Her hair smelled of smoke from the fire pit. Her feet and nails were caked with sand. But somehow, the way she looked mattered even less to her now than it had before.

  Michael appeared, ducking out of the ceremonial hogan, and invited her to join him in saying prayers to Dawn Boy. Her father and grandmother and most of her new friends in the Brotherhood had already begun. The group stood at the rim of Anali’s maternal clan’s green valley. They were facing the East and the beginning of a brand-new day and life.

  Though she’d forgotten the words for the morning chant, Bailey went to stand with her father and friends. Michael loaned her a few grains of pollen. And rather than panic that she wouldn’t know what to do with the stuff, she accepted the pollen and found peace in knowing no one would care if she threw it in the air a moment too late.

  She felt different from before. Deep inside she was different—yet familiar.

  Michael had taught her that the word for what she was feeling was hozho, walking in beauty with the environment. Finding yourself at peace. Being content and free from worry.

  Bailey looked up at the wooded hillside behind her grandmother’s cabin, then let her gaze sweep toward the empty sheep pens and wildflower-filled pastures below. They were standing at the edge of her clan’s heritage, on the talus slopes of the great Colorado Plateau. Farther to the east, through hazy filtered sunlight, she could see the flat, semi-arid plains of the Two Grey Hills area.

  Beyond the town stood what looked like a bluish lump off in the distance. She knew that was Shiprock Mountain, a favorite place of hers as a girl.

  The view reminded her of a thousand echoes of memory from tens of generations of her ancestors who had stood at this same place and said their morning prayers. She belonged here.

  Originally, she’d imagined that Hunter would have to leave Dinetah and follow her back to her home if they were to have a future together. Now she knew better. This was her home.

  When the prayers were completed, Bailey found herself being congratulated on finishing the two-day curing ceremony. Anali was the last one to give her a hug.

  “I knew you would come home, daughter,” her grandmother whispered. Bailey realized the old woman was using the generic term for “young woman in the family,” the same way the term “grandmother” was used out of respect for any older woman.

  Her grandmother was nearly blind, but in the morning’s brilliant sunlight her eyes burned brightly as she smiled at Bailey. “This is your place—the place of your tomorrow. Your children’s children will know the beauty you behold.”

  “Oh, Anali, I’m so sorry you’re sick,” Bailey’s heart was broken as she thought about her grandmother’s incurable disease. “But you have to leave your cabin. Dad says you have to go to a nursing home. You can’t stay here.”

  Her grandmother just smiled again and took her hand. “Come with me, child. I want to show you a good spot to build a new house. My mother’s mother expected me to build in that place, but my time has come and gone. I will not be leaving the house of my mother’s family before my earth years are over.

  “Your man will make a home with you under the same cottonwood tree that my grandfather planted in my name. I know it will be so.”

  Bailey shook her head, but let her grandmother lead her up the slope. She hadn’t said anything to Anali about Hunter. The sick old dear must be seeing something in her mind that didn’t exist.

  Bailey blinked back the tears, knowing that most of what her grandmother had said was coming from the disease in her mind. One day soon Bailey would bring Hunter out here to see her clan’s heritage and tell him of her newly discovered peace. But it would be too late for her grandmother to talk to him about new homes under the cottonwood trees.

  That sad thought put a gray cast to a morning that had once dawned bright and blue and so full of the future.

  16

  “Y ou didn’t come. I waited for you. But you didn’t come.” Bailey’s voice sounded from over his shoulder. She must be standing down the hill, in the direction of his mother’s house. “I haven’t even heard from you in days.”

  Hunter turned and lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the bright morning sun. “Sorry.” It was all he could manage, since his breath had pushed out of his lungs at the mere sight of her standing there.

  Why had she come?

  Hunter had deliberately kept busy, waiting for her to leave Dinetah and go home with her father. He’d hoped she would be too busy to find out where a dull half-breed like him lived. Who would’ve thought she’d go to this much trouble just to tell him off?

  “Kody told me you were living in the hogan he’d built for himself two years ago. He said the place was up the hill from where your mother used to live—the house where he and Reagan and the baby live now. It’s nice up here in the pines.”

  Turning his back to her again, Hunter hefted the ax and grasped it firmly in his palm so he could cut up the firewood. It was good, honest physical labor. The kind his body had been dying to do since he’d gotten out of the hospital.

  “Do you think you ought to be doing that?” she asked.

  He ignored her question and refused to turn around. “I heard your sing went well,” he said instead. “Why are you still on the reservation? I thought you’d be back at your favorite shoe store by now.”

  Okay, that was a little harsh. But damn it. Why had she come all the way out here just to drive him crazy?

  Bailey stayed quiet for so long that he lowered the ax and prepared to turn and apologize for being such a bastard.

  “You were going to let me leave without saying goodbye?” she murmured in a low voice. “Without saying…anything?”

  He knew this was going to be a bummer, but he had to turn around and take his punishment. Though, really, he wasn’t too sure why the yei were punishing him this way. What had he done to deserve it?

  Turning as slowly as he could, he expected to see a bruised expression on her face. He thought he’d probably hurt her feelings somehow, and he didn’t want to face it.

  All he wanted was for her to go away and leave him alone. Alone with memories. Alone in his pain.

  But when he looked at her, what he saw was a sophisticated woman who was strong and independent. Instead of hurt and anger in her eyes, something calm and cool and loving was written all over her face.

  A light sensation took over, where all his pain and anguish had been only a moment before. He felt completely comfortable in her presence. She was everything to him.

  But then he looked again and saw the way she was dressed. The expensive suit and the tasteful earrings. And his heart sank.

  She was the sun, all bright and shiny and golden. His dark half moon could never hope to keep up. The two of them were merely destined to eclipse one another periodically in this lifetime.

  He could never give her anything—never even travel in her universe.

  “Didn’t figure you’d be sticking around Navajoland long enough to notice whether one half-breed waved goodbye or not,” he said without thinking. “I imagined, once you had your curing ceremony, that you’d be long gone.”

  It wasn’t what he’d wanted to say. But telling her the truth, that seeing her leave was too d
evastating and way too hard for a mixed-up, worthless jerk like himself—telling her that truth was totally impossible.

  Just turn around and go, beauty.

  “You won’t care if I leave or stay, then?” Bailey smiled, but the casual move cost her something.

  He shrugged a shoulder and lowered his eyes. Damn the man. What had happened to change everything?

  Her whole body felt the sting of his rejection. Still, she’d glimpsed a flash of something in his eyes. And she would swear it was the love she’d hoped to see.

  So, ignoring the growing tear in her heart, she plowed ahead. “I’m considering staying in Dinetah. But my father is freaking out about it because of the Skinwalker war. I thought maybe you’d have an idea of how to convince him. Or maybe be able to come up with something I can do to help the Brotherhood. It would be great to say I’m needed here.”

  Flashing gray eyes, set deep in an angular face, looked down to where she stood. “No clue. In fact, I’m with your father. You need to leave. It can be dangerous in Navajoland.”

  She fisted her hands on her hips so he wouldn’t see them trembling. “I’m not going, Hunter. The Brotherhood can protect me, teach me how to protect myself. I don’t have anything the Skinwalkers want anymore. I should be safe.”

  “If you’d already made up your mind, why did you come to me?”

  “Damn you, Hunter Long.” She felt like stomping her foot, but refused to revert back to her old ways. “I’ve idolized you for nearly ten years. I’ve continually made excuses for the way you treated me and for the way you always keep your feelings to yourself. In my head, I gave you a pass for not jumping feet first into our affair and becoming as involved with me as I was with you. I tried to be understanding, and I gave you space because of your father.

  “But now…” She suddenly couldn’t think clearly—not when her fingers had curled at the memory of exploring his fine masculine chest. And not when she puddled at his feet at the mere sight of those incredible eyes.

  Swallowing the huge lump that had formed in her throat, she tried to go on. “You were involved with me—in a big way out in the desert. Oh, I let you wallow in your self-pity and hatred. But I did it because I love you and thought that what you needed was to get it out of your system and love me back.”

  “I know….” he agreed. “But I haven’t changed at all. I can’t be what you need. Sorry. Guess I’m a selfish bastard.”

  “You are selfish. You’re selfish because you refuse to let yourself need me. I imagined all along that it was me that needed you,” she added, her voice growing ever more shrill. “Then I had the sing and realized what I really wanted was for you to need me. But no…you like wrapping yourself in guilt and pain. You refuse to allow anyone to love you.”

  God, her voice was sounding like what her mother would call a low-class shopgirl’s. It embarrassed Bailey, so she turned to walk away—to calm down.

  But the rest of the words just had to be said. She swung back and shook her finger at him in a most unNavajo way.

  “I love you, Hunter Long. I will forever. But you are not in harmony. Wake up. You insisted that I go through a curing ceremony, but it’s you who needs to find hozho. Your spirit is in so many different places, you’ll never be in balance.

  “Please,” she added with a sigh. “You need bigger medicine…a stronger sing. Something. Wake up and live.”

  With that, she did turn, swiped at her eyes and headed down the hillside toward her car. She was starting a brand-new life here in the Navajoland of her ancestors, but a part of her heart would be left behind.

  Hunter was holding her heart in his hands, his choice to throw away or not. And he always would.

  Please don’t go, beauty. Hunter’s spirit was saying the words that his mouth refused to set free.

  As he watched her walk to the bottom of the hill and drive away, the silence around him seemed complete. Silence was a good thing, right? Everyone knew Navajos lived great distances from each other because they didn’t like noise.

  Once, he’d craved silence. Back then his mother’s screams and his father’s terrifying grumbling had echoed in his ears. But that was long ago. Today he would much rather hear the soft sighs and sensual moans coming from the warm woman lying beside him. As long as that woman was Bailey.

  He sat down on the woodpile, bowed his head and let himself cry it out. He wept for all the years he’d wasted away from Bailey. He wept because he’d turned into an arrogant bastard who was as demanding and emotionally distant as his father. He wept for beautiful Bailey, who didn’t deserve to be ignored—who deserved someone that would cherish her for all the wondrous things she was.

  Striking out blindly at his own ignorance, Hunter accidently hit the ax’s sharp-edged blade with his hand. He stared down at the oozing red wound and expected to feel anger as he normally did at the sight of blood.

  But it didn’t come. Instead, he just felt empty.

  “Will that cut need suturing?”

  The unexpected male voice surprised him. He looked up to find his cousin Lucas Tso standing next to him.

  Damn, but the guy was more than a little weird. Spooky sometimes, too.

  “Why have you come, cousin?” he asked, sincerely shocked to have Lucas visiting him in the middle of the day. “Is there Skinwalker trouble?”

  “You needed me. So I am here,” Lucas said cryptically. “But you didn’t answer me about the wound. Should we take you to the health care center?”

  “I don’t think I’ll be ready to see that hospital again for a good long while,” he said as he surreptitiously hid one last sniffle. “Since you’re already here, though, you can help me clean out the cut. Then it’ll be just fine.”

  Without another word, Lucas spun and headed for Hunter’s hogan. “Was that the Howard woman I saw leaving?” he asked over his shoulder. “How is she doing since her sing?”

  “She seems terrific,” Hunter replied, while trying to catch up. “Says she’s going to be staying in Dinetah.” It was the most he could manage to say about Bailey without totally breaking down again.

  Lucas reached the doorway first, stopped and turned back. “She is right, you know.”

  “Huh? What does that mean?”

  “She’s right about the ‘needing.’ A person takes to become stronger. But they give to make their lover stronger.”

  Hunter held his bloody hand in the air and opened the door with the other. His cousin’s words were too obtuse to believe. It sounded as though Lucas had been standing right beside him while Bailey had said her piece.

  “Why did you really come here today?” Hunter asked, instead of talking about the woman who had just stormed out of his life.

  “I told you. I came because you needed me.”

  “Yeah, so you said. But how the hell did you know what I needed?”

  Lucas nodded toward Hunter’s cut hand. “Don’t you need my help?”

  Sometimes his cousin was absolutely impossible. But his words about Bailey were starting to make some sense.

  Sighing, Hunter decided he would have to talk it all out with someone. Maybe Lucas was as good as anyone.

  Or maybe, if Hunter gave himself another thousand years or so, he would be able to figure it all out alone.

  “I’ll give it a little consideration,” Michael said. “What did Hunter say when you asked him?”

  Bailey had come to the Dine College in Tsaile in order to seek out Michael Ayze’s advice and opinion. But now she wondered if she’d done the wrong thing.

  “He isn’t my husband, my father or my boss,” she answered with a sarcastic roll of her eyes.

  When Michael continued to stand behind his desk, quietly staring at her, Bailey was sorry she’d opened her mouth and inserted her foot. But she took a deep breath and tried a tight smile. “Sorry. I’m a little tense lately. Hunter wants no part of me at the moment. He didn’t have any answers for me, either—just said I should leave Dinetah.”

  “But you don�
��t want that,” Michael added without asking. “You want to stay in Navajoland, helping the Brotherhood. But without being close to Hunter. Is that what you’re saying?”

  She shrugged. “I guess so, yeah. At least, I know I intend to stick around Dinetah. It’s his choice about our being close or not.”

  When Michael raised an eyebrow, she quickly added, “I intend to find something to do to help the Brotherhood. I have two trust funds, both worth millions. And I know I can talk my father into setting up a secret foundation so we can funnel money into the fight against the Skinwalkers.”

  Michael smiled and came from behind his desk. “Take a walk with me? The weather’s always nice this time of year, right before fall.”

  Bailey had a feeling there was another lesson he wanted to give her. She’d decided the outdoors was a wonderful place to be in Navajoland, so she gladly went along.

  Not entirely positive one more lesson was really necessary, she steeled herself to pay attention, anyway. Another thing she’d noticed was that the Dine always told a legend or a story before coming to the point. She was starting to enjoy taking the time out to listen, but wished it didn’t have to happen today.

  Once they were outside, Michael went to a secluded grove of live oaks and sat down on a bench. It was a beautiful day, clear and blue, with nature preparing to hold its breath for the start of winter.

  “Mind if I give you one more lesson about balance and harmony?” he asked softly. “I mean, if you intend to stay with your people, perhaps you should learn as much as you can about their traditional values.”

  “All right. I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

  Michael’s eyes crinkled in a warm half smile. “Don’t take what I’m saying the wrong way, then. But you should know that most traditionalists believe it’s unhealthy to be famous, and that it’s wrong to have a lot more things than you need.”