Forbidden Spirits

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Forbidden Spirits Page 10

by Patricia Watters


  "I never gave it much thought," Maureen replied, "except that whenever I've been troubled about something or had a decision to make and couldn't decide which way to go, sitting in the pool and listening to the sounds always calmed my mind, and after that, answers just seemed to come. If it's spirits, then so be it. Your dad said you had a theory about an underground geyser causing the sounds in the mountain. Are you worried about angering spirits?"

  "No, I'm not the one who's worried," Tyler said. "It's the Indian girl Marc hired. I have a rock drill and I was using it to open up a fissure to see if the sounds would change, assuming they're caused by steam buildup seeping through cracks, and Rose came in and was pretty upset."

  His grandmother had an almost imperceptible smile on her lips, so subtle most wouldn't detect it, but he did, and he knew why she was smiling. She was a very perceptive woman, and as soon as he verbalized Rose's name he'd given himself away. Rose was no longer just the Indian girl Marc hired…

  "And you don't want to upset Rose," Maureen said.

  "Well, no. I want to respect her beliefs," Tyler replied.

  "But you also want to keep drilling into the rock," Maureen pointed out.

  "For just a little longer," Tyler replied, "but Rose is worried that bad things will start happening to me if I keep drilling, and I don't believe any of that."

  "But now there's a woman who cares about you, and you care about her, and the thing that's most important to her is getting in the way of what you're doing, and you don't want to embrace her beliefs, nor do you want her to walk out of your life. Maybe you should sit in the spring and let your mind settle and see what comes."

  "I can do that too," Tyler said. "I get good ideas when I'm sitting in the pool, but it's not because of spirits. As for Rose, yes, I like her. She's different from any woman I've ever met. I just don't understand her very well."

  "Which is why you're here," Maureen said. "I'm not connected with my Indian background enough to educate you, but you are a very intuitive man. You communicate with your horses and you know what's in their hearts because you've opened your heart to them. Open your heart and your mind to Rose and see what happens. You might find a new joy that you've never known before, one you thought was being filled with your relationships with your mares."

  "Okay, I'll sit in the pool and see what happens," Tyler said, "but I still want to do a little more drilling, just long enough to see if the sounds change."

  He kissed his grandmother on the cheek, but before turning to leave, she held onto his hand and said, "My grandmother told me something when I was very young that I want to pass on to you. Her words came back to me the first time I heard the voices in the cavern. She said, 'Do not believe every spirit that comes to you with promises because there are some who try to deceive people, so only accept the blessings of spirits who come to you with great noise and power.'"

  Tyler stared at his grandmother, wondering how what she'd just told him fit into the scheme of things. But he did know one thing. The sounds in the mountain always came with great noise and power before settling into soft sighs. Then he reminded himself that the sounds were nothing more than steam escaping through fissures.

  …drilling into a cavern where there are petroglyphs is asking for trouble…

  Rose's words brought on a sudden, disquieting thought: What if she was right and he was wrong? Then his logical mind kicked in and he dismissed the notion of spirits as erroneous. But he did decide to open his mind to the idea, mainly because he had no choice. He was falling in love with a woman whose ideologies were rooted in beliefs that went back too far to begin to change. But it wasn't much different than if he were to marry a Catholic. He'd simply turn over the spiritual upbringing of the kids to her, attend church to keep peace in the family, and give it no further thought.

  But for the short term, he just wanted to spend time with Rose, and he had the perfect excuse. He had an appointment that afternoon to go to the casino owned by the Confederated Tribes and meet with the person in charge of the annual rodeo. The week before, after learning that they were looking for a specialty act for next season, he talked to a man on the phone and told him about his act and invited him to watch the video Josh posted on the internet. The man assured him he would, then set up the appointment for today, which was a reason to ask Rose to go with him and show him the reservation. Their last time together had been another episode of miscommunication, and he wanted to try to find a happy medium.

  CHAPTER 9

  Rose opened the back door of Marc and Kit's house, and said to Tundra, who was sitting on the doorstep lobbying to get in, "Okay boy, you can come in, but you won't be wandering around the house." The kitchen area was blocked off from the rest of the house by a child-proof gate that she'd brought along to keep Tundra from wandering through the house.

  Tundra entered the kitchen and immediately zigzagged about to check for any new scents before heading to his mat where a chewy stick awaited him.

  Rose wondered if Tundra would react to Tyler the way he had in the past. Things had changed since she was last with Tyler. She'd come to the conclusion that it was pointless to continue what was going on, attracted to him as she was. But she also realized the true attraction, the one that went beyond his good looks, came when she saw him with his horses the day she was looking for basket-making materials. It was like a magical moment when all the negatives from their first encounter at the spring no longer mattered. All that mattered was what she was seeing—a man who had an almost mystical bond with horses.

  But now she'd had time to put everything into perspective, and all the silly female fantasies and accompanying heart flutters had stopped, so Tundra would have no cause to growl, because she finally had things under control. Thankfully.

  She finished tidying things in preparation for spending a few hours with her family. Her mother was a fifth grade teacher at the elementary school, and her father drove heavy equipment at the logging yard, so as long as Rose and her big brother, Preston, lived at their parent's house, they had their usual chores, which for Preston meant mucking out stalls and tending cattle, and for her meant feeding the horses and helping her mother clean house, though her mother insisted that she just visit with them this particular afternoon.

  Before heading out, she took one last look around. She liked staying in Marc and Kit's house while they were gone. Not only did it give her some independence from her family, but she loved the house. It was built into the hillside, and it had a wide deck across the front that overlooked the Indian mound and living museum, and after staying there for almost three weeks, she came to the conclusion that the house was a compromise between Kit's southwest roots and Marc's northwest ones. The southwest elements were evident in the rounded archways, hand peeled poles for rafters, and the semicircular fireplace, which was built into a corner of the living room, and which she recognized as a kiva fireplace, named for ceremonial rooms of the Pueblo Indians.

  There were also hand painted Mexican chairs around a kitchen table, colorful Fiestaware dishes stacked in an open cabinet above the sink, and a line-up of mosaic tiles on the wall just above the counter, each displaying a different roadrunner, the overall a combination festive, funky, and fun, like Kit. Marc's northwest roots were evident in the natural framework of the couch and side chairs, which were covered in rawhide, the half-round log stairs and peeled pole railing of the stairway, the collection of old branding irons above the fireplace, and the numerous framed pictures depicting cowboys riding bulls and roping calves, and a cowgirl barrel racing, pictures which Kit said Marc picked out himself because they reminded him of his siblings.

  But the archaeologist in both of them was everywhere: framed displays of arrowheads that Marc had dug up and collected on the ranch when he was growing up, a wallpaper mural running across one wall, with faux painted bison like those found in caves, two Kachina dolls on the mantel, and displayed in a cabinet was a collection of terracotta pottery, the kind found in digs.

  It
came to her that this house was about cultural fusion. Although Marc and Kit's wasn't a definite divide like she and Tyler had, they still grew up in different locations that they loved, and managed to incorporate into a house that was distinctively theirs. If she ever ended up with Tyler, she'd have to be satisfied living in a stable, though the thought wasn't necessarily negative. His small place was cozy and unusually neat for a man, and its large windows looked out onto a pasture with mares and mountains in the background, a place where the night sky would be dark, with a wide panorama of stars that would go one forever.

  That thought had barely crossed her mind when she heard footsteps on the front deck and looked out the kitchen window to see Tyler walking toward the front door. He glanced up and saw her standing at the window, and smiled, which had her heart hammering, and her pulse racing, and her breath quickening, and all her earlier resolve vanishing, replaced by thoughts of what an amazingly appealing smile he had, and how it had been at his place, with him standing across the room from her, yet not knowing what to say or do because he didn't know what to do around women, and she was the first woman he'd ever been interested in...

  Again, she wondered why he was interested in her instead of a woman without Indian ties, someone he could more easily relate to. She also wondered why he was even there. Her last words to him in the plankhouse had not been words of encouragement.

  When she opened the door, he gave her a sheepish smile, and said, "Am I welcome?"

  "That depends on why you're here," Rose replied, and tried to sound as if his presence didn't affect her, when in fact she was getting all jelly-kneed again.

  Before Tyler could answer, he was distracted when Tundra padded up beside Rose and again growled. "Okay, boy, I'm onto you now," he said, "so you can stop the growling."

  Tyler looked at Rose to see her reaction, and she gave up trying to fool him, and said, "I told you Tundra had a sixth sense about people."

  "I know, but you didn't tell me it was your reaction to me that got him growling." Tyler stroked the sides of Tundra's head with both hands, then ran one hand between his front legs and scratched his chest until Tundra's eyes closed in ecstasy, and when Tyler at last raised the back of his hand to Tundra's muzzle, Tundra swiped his tongue across his knuckles. "Good, we understand each other now." Tyler looked at Rose then, and said, "So then, what's going on inside you when I'm around that Tundra picks up on?"

  "I have no intention of telling you," Rose replied. "Besides, it could happen when any good-looking man approaches me. It doesn't just have to be you."

  Tyler smiled. "But you already told me it never happened before, so it has to be me." He waited, and when she offered nothing more, because she was uncertain where things were leading, he said, "Incidentally, you can get your heartbeat and blood pressure down by taking a big breath and counting to five and then letting it out and repeating it several times."

  "You're still assuming that you have that much effect on me," Rose said.

  Tyler's smile grew wider, but he said noting.

  "So, why are you here?" Rose asked

  "I'm heading to the casino to talk to someone on the rodeo committee about a contract next season and I want you to come with me," Tyler said.

  "Is that the only reason you want to go to the reservation," Rose asked, "to see about a contract?"

  "No," Tyler replied. "It's where you live and I want you to show me around."

  "That's sad," Rose said. "You've lived all your life around here and I'd think you would have been curious about the reservation before now and checked it out on your own."

  "I have been curious," Tyler said, "but every time I've driven by I was on the way somewhere, so it never was convenient to stop."

  "And if you had not met me you probably would have lived out your life without giving it any thought, just like it's never been important to ask your grandmother about your Indian roots," Rose pointed out, finding herself finally able to reel in her out-of-control reactions to seeing Tyler again, and determined to keep her feelings in check until Tyler either showed some sign of embracing the things that mattered to her, or it would finally get through her very thick skull that theirs was a complete mismatch.

  "Actually, I did talk to my grandmother," Tyler said, "but she couldn't tell me anything about my background because her family was assimilated and her mother wanted her and her siblings to be raised in their father's white world, so that's the way it was."

  "That's sad too, Indians just giving up their heritage," Rose said. "Until recently our culture was slowly dying but because a group of people are determined that the old traditions and stories and legends be passed down to future generations, we now have streets on the reservation with ethnic names, and the language that was used in trade between the tribes is being taught in school and on the reservation so it won't be lost. Preserving our culture is also the reason I'm working for your brother and sister-in-law. They understand."

  "I'm trying to understand too," Tyler said, "but you've got to cut me a little slack. Since you're the first woman I've been seriously interested in, I'm kind of feeling my way along."

  "My being the first woman you've been interested in has nothing to do with the problems between us, and I'm not sure that cutting you a little slack will make any difference," Rose said. "You've got a theory on geysers that you intend to prove, but your means of proving it is tantamount to using carbon dating to determine the age of a fossil. You first have to turn the fossil into carbon by burning it up, so in proving your theory about geysers, first you have to destroy Whispering Springs."

  "Look, I'm doing my best to leave everything in the cavern that matters as it is, I'm not drilling in the vicinity of the petroglyphs or the pool, I'm going at it slowly and taking time to sit and listen, and that's all there is to it. You make it sound like I'm obliterating the cavern."

  "You just don't understand," Rose said in a weary voice.

  "I know," Tyler replied, "but I'm trying. Now can I have a kiss?"

  When she didn't say 'no' or back away, Tyler pulled her to him and kissed her, but when she didn't put her arms around his neck, because she was trying to stop this thing between them, yet she continued to let him kiss her, he reached down and took her hands and put them around his own neck, then closed his arms around her and continued the kiss until Rose felt all her determination slipping away and soft moans escaping her throat.

  "That's better," Tyler said, after the kiss was completed. "Now maybe we can go to the reservation so you can show me around and connect me with my roots."

  His smile that followed had Rose justifying reasons why she should spend the afternoon with him, even knowing that his reason for going to the reservation was to get a contract for his act, and that his talk about connecting to his roots was simply to placate her.

  Deciding it was pointless to stay on the endless cogwheel they were on about spirits in the spring and drilling into rock, and recognizing that at this point, neither of them were committed to a relationship, and what they shared was nothing more than a strong attraction to her on his part, and a sizable dose of infatuation on hers, maybe a trip to the reservation to meet her family would give Tyler a better understanding of what he was getting himself into, if he continued to pursue her, and she continued to not discourage him.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, Tyler pulled his truck into the parking lot of Spirit Mountain Casino and made his way through the maze of cars to the building that housed the casino offices, which was also where the rodeo office was located. Rose waited in the truck while he went to meet with the man he'd spoken to on the phone the week before. But when he walked into the rodeo office and introduced himself, it was clear, from the surprised expression on the man's face, that he was not prepared for Tyler Hansen to be an Indian, which was understandable. In the You Tube video he'd been a Roman soldier, and Josh had taken the video from a distance so there was never a clear image of his face. But the tribal member's enthusiasm on seeing that he
was one of them seemed to all but insure a contract.

  And Tyler felt like a charlatan.

  He didn't think like an Indian, act like an Indian, or share Indian beliefs about spirits and animal guides, and all the things that were important to Rose, but he wanted the contract, so when the man asked which tribe he was affiliated with, he replied, Nez Perce, and left it at that.

  But then the man threw him a curve.

  "Your Roman act is good," the man said, "but since next season will be the first time we'll be including a specialty act, we'd like it to carry an Indian theme. Your act is already called Moon Dancers, which fits."

  "Then… you're saying I should dress like an Indian?" Tyler asked.

  "Do you have a problem with that?" the man replied.

  "No, I suppose not," Tyler said.

  "Good. We'd also want to tell the audience something about your Nez Perce background. When our people excel, we want it known."

  It took a long time for Tyler to answer because the man was asking him to be something he wasn't, at least not in his heart. He also knew there was a strong possibility that he could lose his chance at getting the contract by responding the way he intended, but he couldn't keep up the pretense. "My great-grandmother was Nez Perce but she was fully assimilated and I know nothing about my Indian heritage," he said. "The rest of my family doesn't even look Indian."

  The man studied him for a few moments, as if he were sizing him up, then he smiled in a way that reminded Tyler of one of his grade-school teachers, and replied, "Then you'll have some time to learn about your heritage, if we decide to go with your act. Use the time wisely."

  As Tyler left the office, he was beginning to think there were forces out there pushing him to recognize his Indian blood. First were the gradual changes in his features about the time he started middle school, when his nose and cheekbones became more prominent and his hair became darker and straighter. And later, when he let his hair grow, for reasons that had nothing to do with looking like an Indian and was all about communicating with horses, people who didn't know his family assumed he was Indian. Then the first women to catch his notice in a serious way was an Indian. And now he'd have to be an Indian if he wanted the rodeo contract…

 

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