by Abby Wood
Kane stood quietly, listening. Ana tapped his arm and passed him the check. She studied his reaction, but he hid his emotions behind that stoic mask he wore when something troubled him. Twenty-three thousand, five hundred dollars was more money than she’d made in a year…ever.
“Ms. Reynold. A month. Think of it as a vacation. A very profitable time away. My wife would be happy to show you the sights, take you shopping and keep you entertained in your free time.” He glanced around the room. “Afterward, we’ll fly you back here with enough money to give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of having.”
“I-I don’t know what to say, Mr. Jorges…” Ana turned toward Kane. “Kane, I don’t—”
“Go.” He softened his answer with a smile. “This is a once in a lifetime chance. You should share your talent with others. It is what your world values.”
“But I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered.
Cleve cleared his throat. “Sleep on it. I’m going to try to find a hotel for the night, and I’ll be back bright and early with George.”
Ana broke her gaze away from Kane. “T-thank you, Mr.—”
“Please, call me Cleve.”
“Thank you, Cleve.” Ana followed the two men to the door, closed it after them and banged her head against the wood. “I can’t go.”
* * *
Her whispered confession angered him. “You can do anything if you try.”
She turned around and threw up her arms. “I’m a self-taught artist who whips out paintings because I enjoy it, Kane. They’ll laugh at me. I talk slow, I smell of horses, and the only proper clothes I have is the one dress I wore to Daphne and Will’s party.”
“So. You heard what Cleave told you… His wife will take you shopping.” He held up the new check. “You can buy everything you need to fit in.”
“This is crazy.” She marched to the couch and plopped down on the worn cushions. “I’m going to wake up, find out I’ve dreamt the whole thing, and tomorrow I’ll be heading to work at Chum’s in my ol’ beater car, praying I make it before the engine blows up.”
“You’re talking nonsense. Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said? You’re talented, and obviously others are seeing the quality of work you produce too.” He sat on the coffee table, facing her. “Believe in yourself.”
“I can’t do it.”
“Why?” He grabbed her hands and held them in his.
“Where do you want me to start? I haven’t had lessons. I make mistakes. I don’t know anything about traveling. I’ve never even taken a cab before. There are many other painters out there with more talent. Better people than me—”
“Stop.” He inhaled deeply and squeezed her hands. “Don’t ever…ever think you’re not good enough. You’re perfect in my eyes. You can do this.”
She shook her head. “But I’m not perfect. I’m scared of my own shadow. I doubt myself all the time. Up until three months ago, I couldn’t even fix my own meals. I wasn’t meant for anything bigger than living here…with you.”
“Then you’re not the woman for me.”
“Oh, Kane, I didn’t mean it that way. I-I’m just Ana, small-town Ana, who’s happy with her life. I never even had the goal of being a sought after artist. Plus, I don’t need any more money.”
He let go of her and stood up. She was past listening to him, and he’d have to be firm for her to understand that she needed to follow her dreams. “Go to New York.”
“Kane?” She grabbed for his arm, but he moved out of her reach. “Why are you mad? Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? I want to stay here with you. I love you.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “You’re kidding yourself that this isn’t a big deal. How many people do you know get handed an opportunity like this one? Look around you…house after house of people wishing someone, anyone, would walk into their home and offer them a way out of Lakota. Hell, out of Pochuk.”
She pushed against his hold on her, trying to shake her head. “I love it here. I don’t want to leave. I’m the one wanting to belong…here.”
“I know you do, but it would be foolish not to go.” He kissed her forehead, not letting her step away from him. “Do it for you…and me. Show the world the woman I think is a wonderful, talented artist.”
“Then come with me.” She grabbed his arms. “Help me. I’ve never even traveled out of the state before, and New York is huge, fast, confusing—and there are so many people.”
He stiffened. What she asked of him was impossible. He belonged here, on Lakota land. He dropped his arms. “You’re going to have to do this yourself, Ana.”
“Please, Kane. I’m sure George or Cleve will let you display your saddles too. We could be there together, and it’ll make it easier for both of us.” She stepped toward him, not letting him retreat.
He shook his head. “You know I don’t like going off the reservation. I have a responsibility to my people. I want to make the future brighter for those who come after me, so they won’t have the hardships I have faced. You know that.”
“It’s only for one month. Plus, I’ll be with you the whole time. You can meet all the people who buy your things. Didn’t you tell me there were people who special ordered leads and saddles from you? Wouldn’t you like to meet them?”
His laugh came out harsh and cold even to his own ears. “Trust me. They don’t want to meet me, and I really have no desire to see who buys my saddles and crafts.”
She winced. He knew his bitterness showed, but she had to realize he had no dreams of leaving the Lakota. The self-contempt in his voice was meant to shock her and make her see reason. He expected her to believe in herself and strive for better things. “You must do this on your own.”
“No.” Ana wiped at her cheek. “Don’t tell me to leave you.”
Kane turned around and opened the door, but paused before walking away. “Go to New York, Ana.”
Not giving her a chance to talk him into changing his opinion, he marched out of the house, past the stables and continued out of view. In the middle of the field, out of sight of the houses and surrounded by the land he cherished, he stopped. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. With his arms raised to the sky, he unclenched his hands and let the pain and turmoil flow through his body, out his fingertips. Out here, alone, no one witnessed the tear wetting his cheek. I won’t hold you back, Ana.
Chapter Nineteen
Unbelievable.
There wasn’t one private spot to escape from the crowd in the whole two-story glass-enclosed art gallery. Instead, every few minutes Ana stepped back against the center wall, hoping the others would pass by without paying her any attention. Her head pounded and her toes had gone numb over an hour ago.
A sense of being overwhelmed left her breathless. Since arriving, she’d not thought of one thing to paint. All the chaos and splatter of colors wherever she looked mixed in her head and she couldn’t see the stark beauty hidden behind the noise. She longed to paint a tree or a statue, but any time she’d grabbed her sketchbook, other lines and elements pulled her out of the picture.
“Oh, Henry, check out this basket.” A tall, willowy woman pulled a sharply dressed gentleman over beside Ana.
She glanced down at the hand-woven basket entwined with red, blue and yellow dyed vines atop a white cloth. Her vision blurred. She recognized the basket as one of Robin’s creations.
“Wouldn’t it fit perfectly in the sitting room on the small table under the window?” The woman leaned over. “Two hundred dollars. I don’t know…”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help overhearing.” Ana’s cheeks warmed. “The woman, Robin, who made the basket is very talented. I have a similar one she created myself…back home. The colors she weaves become absolutely vibrant with like-colored flowers added in the basket.”
> “You know the artist?”
Ana nodded. “She’s a wonderful…friend.”
It didn’t seem right to pretend Robin was her cousin. Kane’s family was no longer hers to claim. Kane had remained silent when she’d begged him to come with her. She’d left, not knowing if she was going to be welcomed back or if she even wanted to return to the reservation. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how much she’d believed him when he said they were married in the eyes of the Lakota. Yet, he’d sent her to New York alone.
Kane was only willing to support her from the safety of the reservation, but balked at helping her when she truly needed him. She ran her hand over the top of the basket. She’d put everything she had into being accepted in Kane’s culture, finding a home within the Lakota and adapting to their practices and beliefs. Why couldn’t he meet her halfway?
“Excuse me, please.” She forced her way through the throng of people to the restroom. She hurried over to the sink and ran her wrists under the cold water. How was she going to get through another night of crowds, more questions and feeling like she’d walked out into a foreign land?
Everyone came to the gallery in expensive clothes, expecting to rub elbows with the elite. On the outside, she blended in and didn’t warrant a second glance from anyone, until she opened her mouth.
If it weren’t for Barbara, Cleve’s wife, she’d get lost in her hotel room. She patted her wet hands on her cheeks and sighed. What she wouldn’t give to be home with Kane, and stripped out of the too short, too tight dress, talking about her next painting and how he did with the horses.
Somehow, the real Ana was disappearing in New York. Her hair now had caramel highlights, her old clothes were stuffed in the bottom of her suitcase, unused, and she had different makeup for morning, noon and night. She kept everything about the girl from Podunk carefully hidden.
She couldn’t go back to Kane and admit she was unhappy about coming to New York. Call it pure stubbornness, but she wanted to prove to him that she was strong enough to handle a challenge. She sighed. If he could only see it here. He would fit in with all the people of different nationalities and races. Even she blended with the sea of strangers. Half the people she’d talked with spoke with a thick accent and dressed differently. She couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t feel comfortable where everyone was accepted for their uniqueness.
The traits she admired in him were ones that she wished she had. In his own way, he was the picture of contentment and happiness, always giving to others and never taking. He yearned to give his people the confidence and freedom they deserved. Over time, he neglected to help himself, and this time, he’d disappointed her.
Even the horses he caught, broke and ultimately set free had recognized the true meaning behind Kane’s treatment. Kane had played her the same way. He gave her everything and built the trust between them only to set her out on her own and send her away.
Every day she’d spent with him, she’d grown and became more confident. He’d supported her choices and encouraged her. And here she was in New York. Alone. He’d set her free. He should be happy now. He could move on to the next woman or horse he wanted to train.
Kane would go on, oblivious to how she’d rather have love than fame.
She dried her hands and left the bathroom. One more night and she’d have enough money to build a new life almost anywhere she wanted.
“There you are. Is everything okay?” Barbara steered Ana back toward the main room.
“I’m fine.” She straightened her shoulders.
“Good.” Barbara leaned over and whispered, “Cleve has sold every painting, dear. Relax. Everyone loves you. The next show will be a courtesy to your future buyers.”
Deep inside, she should be jumping for joy. Instead, she wanted to go back to her hotel room and crawl under the covers. She sighed. Yet she couldn’t say she hated the big city.
So many things grabbed her attention. She found herself fascinated with all the colors and textures, from the old buildings to the wide range of cultures and people. Even the other artwork for sale in the gallery blew her away.
What she couldn’t adjust to in New York was the lack of love and authentic friendships. She hadn’t had time to have a full conversation since she’d arrived for her visit. She was alone. Everyone seemed in such a hurry that their version of hello seemed almost routine and insincere. She missed the connection with what was familiar to her. Most of all she missed loving Kane.
* * *
Kane stood at the edge of the lake. Bare and vulnerable, he let the sun dry the water from his skin. He’d lost track of the days since Ana left. Along with Ana leaving, he’d lost all drive to move forward with his life.
His connection with the horses escaped him. He’d burnt his hand twice when his hold slipped while working leather. His concentration on anything lasted thirty seconds at best, and he’d wander away, only to walk back after dark to an empty house. Whole days went missing where he had no clue what he’d done or where he’d traveled. The land that brought him peace now seemed dull and plain.
“I suppose this is another ritual or prayer that escaped my upbringing.”
Kane jerked around and glared at Kohana. “You think that’s funny?”
Kohana held up his hands. “Whoa…back off. You know me better than that. I was joking. I respect the Lakota ways as much as you do.”
Kane walked onto the grass, picked up his jeans and slipped them on. “Cates ice, ciyeku ki.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Kohana sat down on the ground. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” He sat down also and stared out over the water.
“If you miss Ana so much, why did you send her away?”
“You know the advantages. She doesn’t deserve to have me tie her to the reservation. Staying here is not her dream. It’s mine.” He sighed. “This is her chance to make something of her life. She’s doing what she loves.”
“I don’t know. She seemed to love you.” Kohana sailed a rock through the air toward the water.
Kane waited for the splash. “She’s young and still trying to find out what she wants out of life. I’ve heard her wishes. She talks through everything, and I knew more of what she wanted than she knew herself. I’ve watched her work hard to move up in her job. With her paintings selling, her dreams are finally reachable. She liked the money, even though she swore she could live without it.”
“Hell, everyone likes money.” Kohana laughed. “For a man who can speak with horses and knows his own mind, you screwed up big time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ana is no more a city girl who craves high society than I’m a white man.” Kohana stood up. “I thought I wanted to fit in outside the Lakota, but I don’t and it will never happen. Deep inside, I’ve accepted it. On the outside, I’m still doing what others expect of me. I think Ana is only doing what you expect of her.”
The pain over his temple throbbed. “You think I was wrong to send her away?”
“I think you were wrong to send her away alone. The color of your skin might be different than Ana’s, but you both want and need the same thing. It’s a big world, and you of all people should know that being held to one spot is not the way to bring contentment. Isn’t that what you are fighting so hard to bring to our people? A chance for them to explore the world without fear and discrimination?”
He winced. Kohana hit on the one thing that kept him awake each night. It was callous of him to force Ana’s hand in going without support and protection. It wasn’t enough that he stayed in constant contact with Cleve. He should be there in person. His love for Ana was never-ending, and not tied to Lakota land.
“I screwed up.” Kane rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s probably too late to change what I’ve done.”
“Only one way to find out…”
Kane turned to Kohana. “I’ve tried calling her cell phone. She’s either got it turned off or she’s letting my calls go to voicemail. I’ve called Cleve’s number, and he tells me he’s left the care of Ana to his wife. I asked him to give her a message, but the next time I called, Cleve said Ana didn’t want to hear anything I had to say.”
Kohana snorted. “For one of the most respected members of the tribe, you need to get away more, my friend.”
He frowned without saying a word. Go to New York? Impossible.
It bothered him to spend time in Podunk away from his people. How would he survive in another state? The Big Apple?
“It’s your life, man.” Kohana shrugged. “You know where to find me if you need me.”
Chapter Twenty
Six pairs of three-inch heels, ranging from red to black, lined the foot of the bed. Ana wrinkled her nose and glanced down at the scuffed-up cowgirl boots haphazardly thrown on the floor. What she wouldn’t give to slip her abused feet into the worn-in boots tonight.
Even with bandages around her pinky toes, the high heels brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t understand how women stood around in pointy shoes for more than an hour without damaging their feet. She bit down on her lip. Despite her transformation from country girl to sophisticated woman, the patrons at the museum still asked about her small-town life on the prairie. They sought the oddity behind the painting. Clothes were only a mask.
They expected the Native American crafters to come in wearing feathered headpieces and breechcloths. They wanted the naive farm girl to carry a milk jug and wear overalls. Why shouldn’t she give them what they wanted?
Besides, tonight would be the last night she had to show up at the gallery. Did it matter anymore? A slow smile came to her, and along with the decision to be true to herself, the weight lifted off her shoulders. She had no plans on permanence, no matter how much Cleve would like her to stay on. She’d agreed on giving him more paintings. She’d fulfilled her obligations.