Adobe Palace

by Joyce Brandon

Angie laughed. “You’re still a lunatic, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I guess I’ll always be crazy over you.”

  Angie hugged him hard, and then at last he kissed her. His kiss was tender—and filled with all the love she could ever want. Her heart felt as if it was overflowing with love for him. He finally, reluctantly, ended the kiss and held her close.

  “If you don’t stop crying,” he said, his voice barely more than a raspy whisper, “you’re going to turn this into a sloppy mess.”

  “What about Samantha?”

  “She can get her own handkerchief.”

  “I mean—I thought you and she…”

  “Well, with your usual wisdom, you gave us all the rope we needed to discover that we have what we’ve always wanted. Samantha is my best friend. And that’s the way we want it.”

  “Then you didn’t…? I’d forgive you if you did…”

  “We did a lot of things together,” he said, smiling at the memory of how close they had come to spoiling the wine, “but we didn’t do that.”

  “Oh, that is such a relief to me. You have no idea.”

  “To me, too,” he admitted, grinning.

  “I don’t think I’ve heard the whole story yet,” Angie said, smiling up at him.

  “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

  Samantha wanted to tell Steve immediately, but she had three crises to deal with before she could get away. Finally, with everything done, she freshened herself with a sponge bath, changed into a clean gown, and sent Juana to ask him if he could please come up to the house for a few moments.

  Juana came back shortly.

  “Well, what did he say?”

  Juana shrugged. “I knock on hees door. Then I hear heem groan, finally hees footprints cross the parlor, and he opens the door. I tell heem what you say, and he groans again.” She spread her hands and shrugged again.

  “So, we still don’t know if he will come,” Samantha said.

  “No, señora.”

  “Thank you, Juana.”

  Samantha wanted to put his mind and heart at peace, but she realized that it might not be as easy as she had thought. While she waited, an idea came to her, and she felt excitement growing in her. She could hardly wait to tell Steve, or better yet, to show him.

  Finally Steve appeared at her door, freshly shaved and dressed in pressed trousers and a clean white shirt. His face was paler than usual, his eyes darker. His hand was still bandaged, and his tanned skin contrasted darkly against the whiteness of the fabric.

  “You wanted to see me?” he asked gruffly.

  Samantha stepped back and motioned him inside. “Yes. I need to go away for a few days—and I wanted to be sure that you are not intending to leave while I’m gone.”

  A stubborn light came into his eyes. “Why should you care what I do?”

  “Because I do. Many things have happened in my life lately, and I am struggling to assimilate them and…do the things I need to do as a result. But I don’t want you to disappear before I’m ready to talk to you.”

  “Well, it’s nice to know that I’m on the list of chores to be taken care of, however low my status.”

  “Well, I didn’t handle this very well, did I? Maybe I should begin again.” She inhaled deeply and lifted her chin. “I need to go into town and then take a short trip. Would you be so kind as to escort me?”

  “Where to?”

  “To…the Papago Indian Reservation.”

  “What for?”

  “A surprise.”

  “What happened to your guests?”

  “They needed to be alone for a while. They’re leaving tomorrow morning. Going home.”

  “Together?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I ask what happened?”

  “We decided to share him,” she said, stepping close to Steve and slipping her arms around his waist. He felt warm and solid and resistant, and her heart started to pound.

  Steve felt like a fool, letting her hug him. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t one of her toys, but words didn’t come. The sweetness of her nearness robbed him of even his good sense.

  “Lance is so lucky,” she said, sighing and pressing her cheek against Steve’s heart. It sounded powerful and fast beneath his warm chest. She could tell just by touching him that he loved her. She felt it in his skin, and in her own. She ached with love for him and wanted to prolong this sweet moment—and relieve his anxiety. But she knew that the tasks she had in mind were some of the most important of her life.

  “I know this sounds crazy to you, Steve,” she said, reaching up to kiss his warm neck, loving the way it smelled after he’d shaved. “But I think if I want you to take me seriously, then I have to show you something before you and I talk about our future, if you want a future with me.”

  He wasn’t sure he wanted a future with a woman who maintained a married lover. But with her arms around him, he couldn’t say no. “Okay,” he said reluctantly.

  “If it is all right with you then, we will leave early in the morning.”

  Steve agreed, and she walked him to the door. She hated letting him go, but it seemed necessary, for now. He and Elunami had taught her the importance of timing and ritual.

  The next morning at seven o’clock, just as the sun was rising, she kissed her sleeping son and entrusted him to Elunami and Juana. Then she went downstairs to say good-bye to Lance and Angie. They couldn’t stop looking at or touching each other. Samantha was so happy for them that she cried. Angie knew and pulled her into her arms.

  “Thank you, Samantha.”

  “Thank you,” Samantha said, sniffing back tears. “Take care of yourself and my friend.”

  “I will.”

  Lance hugged her hard, and they climbed into the carriage. Samantha waved until it passed through her gates and rounded the first bend.

  She and Steve mounted their horses and headed for Camp Picket Post. The horses were fresh, and the desert was cool and beautiful. Mesquite, acacia, and ironwood trees dotted the desert floor. The acacias’ abundant fruit pods had turned reddish, making a colorful display against the pale sand and the evergreen cacti.

  Steve was remote and careful with her. He appeared strong, though. Strong and handsome—and determined not to give up any more of his dignity than he had already. She accepted that condition and didn’t try to break through his reserve.

  They reached Picket Post early, just as the town was opening for work. She stopped her horse at Owen’s hotel and turned to Steve. “I have some business to take care of. Can we meet back here at Mary Francis’s for lunch?”

  “Sure.”

  He turned his horse toward the barber shop; she turned hers toward the only attorney in town.

  When she finished there, she went to the general store to purchase supplies. She got out the list Elunami had helped her with last night and bought every item on it. Then she rented a buckboard and hired a driver. She finished just in time for lunch. Steve was already inside, drinking coffee.

  “Well,” she asked, slipping into the chair opposite his, “did you have a nice morning?”

  “Nice enough.”

  She ordered and ate in silence, glad Steve allowed her the space to keep her secret.

  As they rode south toward the papagueria, the desert became more thickly populated by the giant saguaro cacti. The sky was filled with big white cumulus clouds, shadowing the desert below. It was a cool, crisp, beautiful day for a ride, and she wished she and Steve had resolved every issue that stood between them, so they could enjoy this completely.

  They reached the papagueria at sunset. She was tired and achy, but Steve appeared to be holding up well. For all that he had been through, he seemed strong and resilient.

  “One more favor, then I’ll stop bothering you for a while,” she said, as they stopped before Chandler’s house.

  “What?”

  “Would you find Silver Fis
h for me? Tell him I need his services.”

  Steve rode away. Samantha dismounted and knocked on the Indian agent’s door. Chandler opened it and stepped back, surprised to see her.

  “Come in, come in,” he said, looking out to see Steve riding away.

  “He’ll be back,” Samantha assured him, and then told him what she wanted to do. She asked the questions Elunami couldn’t answer for her, because of possible differences between Hopi and Papago tradition.

  Steve returned with Silver Fish. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Anything else?” Steve asked, watching her carefully.

  “No,” she said sweetly. “That will be all for now. But I hope you will wait to escort me home.”

  “Of course.”

  Selena Chandler stepped outside and invited Steve in for something to drink and eat. Samantha waved good-bye to him and rode away with Silver Fish.

  Steve enjoyed the visit with his father and stepmother, but he kept looking out the window for the sight of Samantha. Finally he saw her, Crows Walking, Silver Fish, and a few of the elders come outside and sit down in a circle.

  Selena kept talking to him, but he was so engrossed in trying to figure out what Samantha was up to that he lost track of what Selena was saying. Finally she gave up talking, and he gave up pretending to listen and just watched through the window.

  Samantha distributed packages from the wagon to all the men, then the old men sat and talked for a long time, and the ceremonial pipe came out. Steve couldn’t believe his eyes. When the pipe came around to Samantha, she took a puff of it and coughed. He grinned despite his mood.

  An hour later Samantha walked from the meeting toward the agent’s house. Steve stepped outside to greet her.

  “I sure hope you’re going to tell me what’s going on soon,” he said, squinting at her.

  “I will.”

  “‘Soon’ was the important word,” he said.

  “I know.” She seemed different to him. Stronger and more determined and even more womanly. Her lovely eyes seemed to sparkle like diamonds in the little bit of light that came through the window of his father’s house. He wondered if he would ever be able to see her clearly. He doubted it.

  The next morning they said good-bye to the Chandlers and headed home, arriving near sunset. At the house Steve took the horses and started to walk toward the barn with them.

  “Steve, would you have dinner with me tonight?”

  “What time?”

  “Seven.”

  At seven sharp he appeared at the door. Samantha greeted him and led him into the dining room. Juana served fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy. Steve ate lightly and then pushed his plate aside.

  “Would you like dessert?” she asked.

  “No, thank you.”

  “You’d like answers,” she said.

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “I guess it’s time,” she said softly.

  “Past time,” he said grimly.

  “Well, I…uh…traded Crows Walking thirty thousand acres of land…for you.”

  “What?”

  “We traded.”

  Steve stared at her in stunned silence. “Well, it’s finally happened. An Indian has gotten the best of a white person in a trade. Unfortunately, I don’t belong to Crows Walking, so you just got cheated.”

  “Well, according to him, you do. He saved your life. He said when he was forty moons old he was given a vision in which he was told to walk toward the northeast until he received another vision. He walked for fifty days, and then he saw you squatting in the snow, scratching for nuts to eat. That night he had the second vision, and he traded a blanket to the band of Indians you had been following in exchange for you. To me that seemed good enough. And we smoked on it.”

  “But why?” he asked, knowing she could have had him for nothing.

  “I realized I didn’t feel comfortable taking the land the way my attorney said I could. So I had the attorney in town split the land almost in half, and I gave the western half to Crows Walking. We discussed it thoroughly with the elders; they allowed me to keep the parcel with my house and most of my improvements on it if I promised to stay away from any sacred burial grounds or other sites of religious importance to the Papago.”

  “You actually gave him part of your land?” he asked, incredulous. “In exchange for me?”

  “Yes. I did. He now owns everything west of the creek. I haven’t improved those sections. Actually I didn’t say that correctly. He accepted stewardship for the land, and I for you. We traded responsibility, not ownership.”

  Steve was stunned. She had not only learned an important lesson, she had given Crows Walking land and water. That was more than any man would do. Most men, faced with having to split their land, would find a way to do it without giving away access to the river.

  “Were you sure you wanted to do it that way?”

  “Yes. He can’t do anything without water. And we’ll have plenty. When I was trapped inside the mountain, I found an enormous underground river. We’ll have all the water we’ll ever need.”

  A weight Steve hadn’t been aware of lifted off him. He felt lighter, more forgiving of Samantha. She couldn’t seem to give up Kincaid, even though he was married and had gone back to his wife. But at least he could climb out of hell on the knowledge that he’d fallen in love with one of the finest women in the world. She was generous, fair, and beautiful, if somewhat deluded.

  “Thank you for doing that.” He almost couldn’t speak around the lump in his throat.

  “Well, I’m glad that’s settled. Now to the next. I know you’ve never understood about Lance, and how I felt about him.”

  Steve nodded.

  “But you need to understand.”

  “I don’t care to.”

  “You have to listen, even if you don’t want to. At first, when he married Angie, my loss was like the sun—always before me, so bright and close and intense I was blind to everything else for years, even to you. I know you never understood, but Lance was like a god to me, standing between me and the awful loneliness and misery of childhood.”

  “I know it was hard for you.”

  “But now I’ve changed, Steve.”

  “Changed?”

  “Don’t be alarmed. I think it’s for the better.”

  Her voice was so incredibly sweet, almost as sweet and beguiling as the look on her lovely face, which seemed to shimmer with inner light. He felt like a man being played with by a tiger. “I’m glad for you, then.”

  Samantha stood up and walked around to his side of the table. She tugged on his hand; he stood up. She slipped into his arms and felt a quiver go through his lean body. He tried to step away from her, but she wouldn’t let him.

  “I love you, Steve.” Silence stretched out between them. She pressed her face against his warm, strong chest, listened to the powerful beat of his heart.

  “But you need him more,” he said finally.

  “No.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “When I saw Lance this time, I realized he wasn’t a god. He was just a man. And that it wasn’t a choice between him or you. Now that I know who I am, I realize that you are the only man who can complete me.”

  “I saw him hug you—”

  “Yes,” she interrupted, sighing contentedly. “It was our first hug as brother and sister. I used to believe that because I loved Lance I had to marry him. Now I know that I don’t have to. I can love him as my brother and my best friend.”

  “I thought you had decided to share him.”

  “We did. But perhaps not the way you think.” She hugged Steve hard and felt some of the tension leave his body. “Lance was my inspiration. He started me on this house-building adventure with you. But somehow in the process, I changed. I’m not who I was.”

  Steve took her by the shoulders and turned her, so the light shone on her tear-wet cheeks. He searched her face, loving the incredible radiance and clarity of her skin, t
he shine of her silky hair, the way her lovely eyes sparkled with confusing warmth and humor. She bedazzled his helpless brain and probably always would, but somehow he could read her better, or thought he could. Her eyes shone with joy, love, and incredible sweetness. She was free. He pulled her into his arms and held her close.

  “Samantha Forrester, you scared the hell out of me.”

  “Me, too!”

  Steve lifted her chin, stared into her lovely eyes for a long, heart-pounding moment. “Say it,” he said.

  “I love you.”

  He kissed her, gently at first, then with all the hunger and need she could ever ask for. He ended the kiss and held her for a long time. Then he whispered, “Will you marry me?”

  “We have to discuss something first. I realized, when I was trapped in that underground cavern and the Earth was shaking overhead and ready to come down and crush me, that you were right. People really don’t own land. It is powerful enough to do anything it wants. I still love the land, but I can love it anywhere we go.”

  She hugged him hard for a moment, then continued. “In the last few days I’ve been thinking about all the things I’ve learned to love since coming here. I loved putting together the house and furnishings, making pottery, and sculpting and painting the masks. I think I’d like to study art and sculpting, maybe even interior architecture. I think I could help people furnish the houses you build for them. Most people do a terrible job of that. We could team up. You build the houses. I could furnish them.” She shrugged. “We can figure it out.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “But what about this house?”

  “I’ll always love this house. It was the beginning of a new life for Nicholas, for me, and for you. We can always come back here to restore ourselves. It can be our vacation home. Our special hideaway, whenever we have time for it. Juana can raise Eliptio here. She can close off most of the rooms until we get back. When we get old, it can be our retirement home.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying these things.”

  “It’s true,” she said solemnly. “As much as I love this house, I don’t need it the way I used to. I was trying to own something so solid I wouldn’t have to be scared anymore. But you were right. Ownership is an illusion. And so is safety. I’ll always love Lance, and I’ll probably always feel safe with him. But I realized that the safe way is not always the right way.”