by Robyn Carr
“What kind of issues? Do you plan to tell your ex-wife you’ll always love her again?” She smiled at him so he’d know she was teasing.
But Clay didn’t smile. “I won’t make that mistake, but you can count on me to screw up along the way. I’m flawed.”
“You’re strong,” she said, touching his beautiful face.
“I’m not strong enough to sleep alone again. I need you in my life. And I need your strength with mine. We have to make a promise, Lilly—when trouble comes, we’ll face it together. Not alone and in silence.”
“Promise,” she said.
“I have wanted to talk to you about something—about letting me take you back to the reservation. I want you to meet my family.”
She smiled at him. “I didn’t think I’d ever go back. I take it there’s a lot of family to meet?”
“There is, but that will have to wait for another event to pass. My sister tells me our parents are coming to Grace Valley for Thanksgiving.”
“And will I meet them then?”
“They would like that, I’m sure. But first, if you agree, I’d like to ask Yaz if he’ll sit down with my family.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “What are you asking, Clay? You’d better be clear.”
“If you agree, I want you to be my wife.”
She shook her head. “You have a son. He’ll have to give his consent.”
“Oh, that’s not going to be a problem. He congratulated me on having enough intelligence to work things out with you.”
“You have to ask him, just the same,” Lilly said.
“I’ll do that. Now, what about Yaz?”
“I’m sure he’ll be very agreeable. And relieved. He was afraid I’d be an old maid and he’d be stuck with me forever. But what of your family, Clay? They’re very traditional. Will they find me acceptable?”
“They will—not that it matters. Lilly, you are the finest woman I’ve ever known and I want you for my wife if you’ll have me. No matter how the families feel.”
She gave him a short kiss. “I think if I say no, you’ll be a terrible pest. But I would like to do something special for your parents. I’ll think of what that can be.”
“You’re very sweet,” he said. “Now that the important details are settled, why don’t you go put the opera back on. Crank it up nice and loud.” He grinned. “I like opera.”
Lilly had been very young when she last participated in traditional Hopi ceremonies and since she was a child then, she had stayed on the sidelines. She had several long talks with Clay and with Ursula Toopeek about the old traditions. She didn’t see her future as being enmeshed in the old ways, but she wanted her future in-laws to be clear that she respected them and their traditions.
She had to go to a great deal of trouble to find her props. When a Hopi maiden wanted to show respect for the traditions, she dressed in natural fibers, skins, feathers and beads. For a vegetarian like Lilly to wear the skins of animals was a huge compromise—she limited herself to the boots and wore a woven blanket around her shoulders. But when it came to the traditional cake she would present to the mother of the groom, rather than the ceremonial mush or wheat, she chose a pineapple upside-down cake, which made Clay laugh. “I think they’ll begin to understand you, Lilly—you’re not exactly going all the way.”
“It’s a brave new world, Clay,” she said with a smile. “Will your mother understand?”
“I don’t think she’ll have any doubts.”
On the morning of Thanksgiving there was a light snow, but the weather was agreeable. Yaz was told to be at the Toopeek home early in the day. Clay and Lilly took horses by trailer to Grace Valley, left the trailer in a wide space in the road at the bottom of the hill that led to the Toopeek home. While Lilly wore her traditional Hopi dress and blanket, Clay was clad in his usual jeans, boots and heavy suede jacket.
“Wish me luck,” Lilly said to her intended.
“You don’t need luck, baby. All you need today is good balance.”
The Toopeek household was crammed full; their eldest, Tanya, was home from college to spend time with her family, and Yaz was present, as was Gabe. The older men were engaged in a serious game of chess while Tom Toopeek had been put in charge of setting the table. Cooking was in full swing and the women—Ursula, her daughter, her mother and mother-in-law were all in the kitchen, chattering and laughing as they crowded around the stove and worktable.
Ursula kept looking out the window.
“Relax, Ursula,” her mother said. “They’ll be here soon enough!”
“I know,” Ursula said. “I’m so anxious for you to meet Lilly, that’s all.”
And then, finally, at about eleven in the morning, Ursula called her mother out of the kitchen. “Mother, come here! There’s someone here to see you!”
Mrs. Tahoma went to the door, expecting her son and his intended, but nothing prepared her for what she saw. Coming up the road toward the house were two riders on horseback. She recognized Clay at once, but was stunned by the sight of a young Native American woman riding beside him, dressed in traditional ceremonial clothing, holding something in her hands in front of her, directing the horse with only her knees and one hand on the reins.
Mrs. Tahoma stepped outside and began to walk toward them.
At Ursula’s direction, the rest of the family crowded behind her mother, all the men and children watching.
When Clay and Lilly were near, Clay dismounted first. He reached up to take the cake out of Lilly’s hands while she dismounted. When she was on her feet, Clay gave her back the cake and held the reins of their horses while Lilly approached his mother. When Lilly stood in front of her in all her Hopi glory, she passed the cake into Clay’s mother’s hands. “Mrs. Tahoma, I’ve brought you a cake that I made myself and hope you’ll accept it as a gesture of my respect and love for a new family.” She smiled and said, “It’s not the usual thing, but I hope you’ll accept it, anyway.”
Mrs. Tahoma took the betrothal cake, looking down at it.
Lilly caught sight of her grandfather standing behind Clay’s mother with the men. There was a smile on his face and he seemed to stand a bit taller, proud of her for embracing even a small piece of their tradition.
All Mrs. Tahoma had to do to seal their engagement with her family’s approval was to accept the cake. But she leaned forward and put a kiss on each of Lilly’s cheeks. And she said,
“I am honored, daughter. Deeply honored.”
Acknowledgments
I’m deeply grateful for the dedicated assistance given to me by Scott Lampert, all-around horse expert, farrier and creator of www.ONTRACKEQUINE.com, a sophisticated program used by horse professionals, owners and breeders to assure peak equine performance. This story could not have been told without your help.
Special thanks to Sean Vasquez, Native American musician and actor. Through your eyes I could better envision the Native American characters in this story.
For this story as for almost every story I write, special thanks to Michelle Mazzanti for early reading and research assistance. I just couldn’t get to the end of a book without your input and help.
I am indebted to Kate Bandy and Sharon Lampert. Without your continual loyalty and support I would be lost.
My heartfelt gratitude to Ing Cruz for creating and managing Jack’s Bar online, where hundreds of Virgin River readers exchange book news. (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/RobynCarr_Chatgroup/)
Thanks to Rebecca Keene for early readings of this and many manuscripts; her feedback is incredibly valuable.
Thanks to everyone at the Nancy Berland Public Relations Agency for the support and for always watching my back. Jeanne Devon of NBPR, thanks for the hours of reading and critiquing—your feedback is a tremendous help.
And as always, thank you to Liza Dawson of Liza Dawson Associates and to Valerie Gray, editorial director of MIRA Books, two of the toughest readers in publishing. Thank you both for being relentless, tireless, devoted perf
ectionists. Every push makes each book a little better and I owe you. This is always a team effort and I couldn’t have a better team!
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7899-2
PROMISE CANYON
Copyright © 2011 by Robyn Carr.
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