Piper paused while making a note. “You mean if your father is Queche and your mother isn’t, you’re not considered part of the tribe?”
“No.” Stan pressed his lips firmly together.
“I’ve been trying to get the council to change that law for years,” Eyota said. “It’s time for lunch. We’ve cleaned out the garbage and packed up clothes that can go to a thrift shop.”
Did Tai know about the law? Surely with his dedication to his culture he would. But that would mean he had no intention of their relationship going further than it had. She couldn’t imagine him wanting children who weren’t part of his tribe.
Perhaps he wasn’t serious about their relationship.
Unease swirled around her stomach and she did her best to ignore it. She’d talk to Tai when they were alone.
Pushing her feelings aside, she asked Bradley, “How did it go?”
He shrugged. “It was all right. Grandpa has a lot of stuff.”
“He was a hoarder, like his father,” Eyota said.
“His father was a hoarder because everything was taken away from him,” Stan said. “We went to the same boarding school.”
“What was that like?” Bradley asked, pulling out a chair.
“Like losing your soul,” Stan said.
Eyota clicked her tongue. “You can discuss that later,” she said. “Why don’t you come back to my place for lunch, and you and Piper can continue your interview there?”
“All right,” Stan agreed.
Tai came into the kitchen as Piper turned off the recorder and packed up her notes. Outside the pickup tray was full of items from Jerry’s house but there was room for Adahy, Bradley and Stan, who had walked over.
When they arrived back at Eyota’s, she and Tai went into the kitchen to prepare lunch while Adahy and Bradley sat on the sofa, and Adahy showed the boy how to find the notes on the banjolin.
“What do you think of our culture?” Stan spoke, directing the question at Piper.
Piper sat in one of the armchairs. “It has a long memory and lovely traditions. I don’t know a lot about my great-grandparents and even less about their parents. We don’t tend to honor our past like you do. Perhaps that’s why we keep making the same mistakes.”
“And our way of living?”
She wasn’t sure if he was referring to the past or the present. “Being mindful of the environment and making sure you care for it so it sustains you in the future is something we can all learn from,” she said. “By the time the people in charge do something about it, it may be too late.” She’d spent evenings talking with her father and brother about global warming and the effects of industry. Her father had chosen to fight the battle from inside one of the companies, hoping to drive change, while her brother was trying from the side of science. Each knew there was a long way to go.
Stan seemed satisfied.
Tai called them in to the kitchen for lunch and they sat around the table catching up with news of the reservation. There was a lot happening and Piper had realized from her few days there that everyone supported each other. Many of them were related but all wanted to ensure the survival of their culture.
They spoke about school with Bradley and the youth center with Stan.
“We have something to discuss with the council,” Eyota told Stan. “We have a fundraising event planned to raise money for a youth center.”
Stan frowned at her. “We can’t raise that kind of money on the reservation.”
“That’s why we’re going off rez,” Tai told him. “It was Piper’s idea.”
“Actually one of my friends had the idea,” Piper said quickly. “We’re all organizing it.”
Stan was unimpressed. “What idea?”
Piper looked to Tai. It was probably better coming from him.
“We’re running an online auction and people have donated thousands of dollars in items,” Tai said. “Then we’ve organized a rock concert. The headlining act is Kent Downer.”
“The concert is going to be amazing,” Adahy said. “I can’t wait to do it.”
“How much do you expect to raise?” Stan asked.
Tai gave him a ballpark figure and the chief’s eyebrows went up. “Impressive. Have you got a contract with these people?”
Tai and Piper exchanged a glance. “No,” Piper said. She refused to believe George or Imogen wouldn’t hold up their end of the bargain.
“Then I won’t believe it until the money is in the council’s account.”
Piper made no comment. She understood his sentiments, considering how his people had been treated over the centuries.
“You’re right,” Eyota said. “We’ll need to draw up an agreement with George and Imogen and one with the tribal council to ensure the money is spent on what it was intended for.”
Stan stared at her, outrage on his face. “You think we would squander the money?”
Eyota shook her head. “No, but the council may have different priorities. There are housing shortages and other issues which the council might want to address first.”
He looked at her for a minute more before he conceded. “You may have a point.”
Piper let out a quiet breath.
“I need to get going,” Adahy said, getting to his feet. “I’ve got to set up for class. You coming, Bradley?”
Bradley stuffed the remaining food in his mouth and ran to get his banjolin.
Tai stood and collected the plates, while Piper asked, “Would you like to continue the interview?” She wasn’t going to make the mistake of assuming Stan would still want to talk.
“Might as well get it written down,” he said. “My people had no written language. We were nomads and there was no point carrying around things that could be stored in your head. Besides, so much is lost when it is on paper.”
“There’s no reason why we can’t film the stories,” Piper said. “It could be a great way of preserving the traditions. Many people prefer watching things to reading. We could do both.”
Eyota pursed her lips. “It would need to be professional, and that costs money.”
Piper thought quickly. “Is there anyone in the tribe who’s interested in film making?” she asked.
“What about Neil?” Eyota said.
Tai nodded. “He’s studying at college at the moment.”
“Perhaps he would be willing to do it. He might be able to borrow the college’s equipment or even do it as one of his assignments.” Piper knew there was a real art to working out the best visual angle and then to editing interviews together. She had a couple of friends who worked in television news.
“I’ll investigate it,” Stan said. “Let’s continue as we were.”
Piper checked her notes and asked him a question.
***
It was getting dark when the interview finally wound down. Adahy had returned from his lesson and Bradley sat outside under a tree practicing what he had learned.
Eyota had thrown together some finger food so they could eat while still talking and Adahy had joined the table to listen.
Piper’s head was filled with names, dates, relationships and traditions. She needed some downtime.
First, though: “Thank you for your time,” she said to Stan, shaking his hand.
“I do this for my tribe,” he said.
She nodded. His attitude was nothing to do with her, and she was grateful for his knowledge.
When Stan had left, Tai turned to her and put an arm around her waist. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
She did. A full moon was rising so there was plenty of light, and she needed to clear her head. “Yes, please.” She followed him out of the house and along the path that led to the lake. When it opened out so it was wide enough for both of them, he took her hand.
She’d missed having him around over the past few days. She enjoyed being with him, even if they didn’t speak or were doing different things. It was one of the reasons she’d spent her days last week at the resta
urant. It didn’t matter if Tai was cooking and she was planning the cookbook, what mattered were the times when she would surface, or he would pop his head into the break room and they would have a quick chat before going back to what they were doing.
She loved being around him. She loved his strength, his humor, his sensitivity and his compassion. She loved him.
The idea gave her little start, but then she smiled. Everything about it felt right. She was walking next to the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The only question was how did he feel about her?
The question of tribal membership popped back into her head, but before she could ask, Tai said, “Mom’s coming to the cooking class tomorrow.” His voice was loud in the silence, though he spoke quietly.
They hadn’t talked any further about his mother during the week. “How do you feel about it?”
“Nervous,” he admitted and stopped walking. He turned to Piper and took her other hand. “Adahy invited her when he decided he was going to stay overnight.”
“Does Adahy understand why your relationship is strained?” she asked.
“We’ve never spoken about it, but I’m sure he suspects.”
“So what are you going to do?”
He shrugged and sighed. “I don’t know. How am I supposed to start the conversation?” He was genuinely at a loss.
“How about starting with, Can we talk? And then tell her you wish your relationship was better.”
“There’s so much that hasn’t been said. I could make things worse.”
He was right. “Is it better to try and fail, or to not try at all?”
“I need to try.” He pulled her into his arms and Piper hugged him. This was where she wanted to be.
In his arms, filled with her love for him, supporting him however she could. Dare she tell him how she felt? Or was it too soon?
Tai bent his head and kissed her and the words were lost.
***
For the first time, Tai wasn’t looking forward to the cooking class. Today it meant talking with his mother, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.
Part of him hoped she wouldn’t turn up. But Piper was right. It was better he spoke to his mother, cleared the air and tried to salvage something out of their relationship. He’d loved her when he was younger, had missed her like crazy after their father had died, before the guilt had turned to resentment in his teenage years.
He wanted to reclaim the future.
Piper walked into the kitchen, her hair neatly combed, and dressed for the day in a pair of blue shorts and a red tank top. It didn’t matter what she wore: she was beautiful. “Morning,” she said, kissing him.
He poured her a coffee. “Morning. Did you sleep all right?”
They had spent the night in different rooms. He, Adahy and Bradley had shared the room with the two bunk beds in it and Piper had slept in Rayen’s bedroom.
“Yeah. I’ve become used to the wildlife that makes noise in the night,” she said. “Have you figured out what to say when your mom arrives?”
He had words running around his head, but what came out of his mouth might be a whole different thing. “Yes.”
Before she could say anything else, Bradley padded into the kitchen wearing his pajamas. He gave Piper a hug.
“Do you want some cereal?” she asked him.
He nodded, yawning.
Piper got the bowl and gave it to the boy, who thanked her.
Tai smiled. The two of them had fallen into a routine over the past couple of days. He liked watching Piper and Bradley together. She was good with children. She’d make a good mother one day. He could imagine a little Piper running around with Piper’s honey blond hair and his brown eyes.
No.
His hand stopped halfway between the table and his mouth, and coffee splashed out onto his lap. The burning liquid got him moving again – he jumped up and found a dish cloth to mop up the spill.
“Are you all right?” Piper asked, coming over.
He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t reconcile what he knew with how he felt. “Yeah. I’ll just get changed.” He fled the kitchen, his skin cold, his heart tight.
He loved Piper.
He could imagine spending the rest of his life with her.
And the thought didn’t scare him at all.
But he couldn’t possibly marry her. She wasn’t Queche. Any children they had wouldn’t be accepted into the tribe. He couldn’t bring any child into the world if it would rob them of that belonging. If they had no heritage to claim. It was hard enough being Native American as it was. He’d let their relationship go on too long, not wanting to end it, and now he had to. Before she felt the same way about him.
It was so difficult. Piper understood some of the struggles of his people. She’d been gathering stories for days and, last night before they went to bed, she’d shown him what she’d done. It was written with sensitivity and compassion.
But it didn’t matter. She wasn’t a member of any tribe. She couldn’t ever truly know.
And he could never be with her.
He barged into the room he was sharing and Adahy woke up with a start.
“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” He rubbed his eyes and sat up.
“Spilled coffee on my crotch,” Tai said.
Adahy swore. “Geez, next time be more quiet about it.” He stretched. “I thought the house was on fire.”
Tai ignored him, focusing on finding another pair of shorts and getting changed.
Then he sat down on the bottom bunk across from Adahy and put his head in his hands. He couldn’t deal with the thought of losing Piper now. Not when his mother was due at any minute. There was way too much to cope with.
“Hey, Tai, what’s up?” Adahy climbed down from the top bunk and sat next to him.
“Nothing.” Tai wasn’t going to dump his worries on his brother. Adahy didn’t need them. Tai had always kept things to himself and he wasn’t going to start sharing now.
“Don’t lie to me.” Adahy’s voice was angry.
Surprised, Tai looked up.
“I’m an adult, Tai. You don’t need to keep anything from me any more. I can handle it.”
Tai opened his mouth but no words came out. He’d never realized Adahy had noticed what he’d done.
“I know you were trying to protect me, but I’m a big boy. What’s got you so freaked?”
Tai was at a loss. The only person he had confided in was Piper.
Should he tell the truth?
“It’s Mom,” he said finally, choosing the lesser of the two issues.
“What about her?”
“It’s the first time she’s come to a cooking lesson.”
“And what? You think she’ll hate the food?”
Tai shook his head. “We’ve never been close.”
“You should stop blaming her for Dad’s death,” Adahy said. “It wasn’t her fault.”
Tai’s jaw dropped open. “I don’t. Who told you that?”
Adahy shrugged. “Mom. I asked her once why you never hugged her.”
He shook his head. “You’ve got it the wrong way around. I always thought she blamed me.”
There was a knock on the door and Eyota’s voice called, “Boys, your mother’s here.”
“Be right there,” Adahy called back. He turned to Tai. “Why would she blame an eight-year-old kid?”
“I blamed myself, so it made sense to me.”
Adahy stared at him. “I never realized.”
Tai got to his feet. He wanted to end the conversation more than he wanted to put off seeing his mother.
His brother put a hand on his arm. “You didn’t kill Dad. He killed himself.”
The image came unbidden to his mind. He stamped it away. “I know.”
But it didn’t make the visions go away.
He left the room and walked into the kitchen, where his mother was sitting at the table with his grandmother, Bradley and Piper.
Piper
laughed at something Jackie said.
Tai’s heart squeezed. He didn’t know what to do about either of these women.
“Hi Mom,” Adahy said, coming into the room behind Tai and kissing his mother on the cheek.
“Hi, Ada. Tai.” She greeted him with a nod and a small smile.
He nodded back to her. He couldn’t do it now. “I’d better go and set up everything.” He needed to get out of there.
“Do you want a hand?” Piper asked.
“No. I’ll see you later.” He was abrupt and the hurt on Piper’s face didn’t make it any easier, but he needed space and air.
He left the house and strode toward the school. He was far earlier than he needed to be, but it didn’t matter. Adahy or Eyota would drive the pickup over to the school with the kids later.
Right now he needed to think.
Chapter 17
Piper forced a smile onto her face after Tai left. She knew he was nervous about talking with his mother, but he’d barely looked at her either.
“Have you known Tai long?” Jackie asked her.
Piper liked her first impression of Tai’s mom. She was friendly, though she was uncertain around her oldest son.
“About a month,” she answered. “I met him at one of Adahy’s concerts and then I had to interview him for the Houston Age.”
“You wrote that ridiculous profile in today’s paper?” Jackie was indignant.
Piper’s stomach clenched. “I wrote an article. I haven’t seen what they printed. Do you have the paper, Eyota?”
“Yes. It’s on the coffee table. I haven’t unwrapped it yet.” She turned to Jackie. “We went through Jerry’s house yesterday.”
Piper fetched the paper and unwrapped it, flicking through until a lift-out slipped onto the table. The People of Houston.
They’d done it as a magazine rather than weekly feature articles. She found Tai’s profile and began to read, walking back into the kitchen as she did so. She felt sick. “This isn’t what I wrote.” She sat down. “This is garbage.” They’d taken bits of both articles she’d written and mashed them together, adding statistics that made the reservation appear as if it were getting millions of dollars in handouts from the government.
The Texan Quartet (Books 1-4) Omnibus Page 101