The peaceful serenity was interrupted by the abrupt ringing of her cell phone. Reaching into her back pocket, she reluctantly answered the call from the real world.
"Hello?"
"Christina? This is White Dove.” The woman on the other end was hysterically crying. “If Bear Paw knew I was calling, he'd be mad."
"Slow down. Tell me what's wrong."
The falcon stilled as if listening to the conversation.
"It's Eagle Feather. Something's wrong with him. He's burning up with a fever, and we can't get him to wake up."
"I'm on my way, White Dove.” Christina slammed her cell phone shut. “We've got to go. It's the chief's son. He's sick."
Christina turned quickly on her heel, not noticing the pebbles littering the edge of the cliff. Her foot slipped, sending her feet flying from under her. Her scream echoed off the valley below. She hit her belly hard on the packed earth and scrambled for anything to grab onto as her bird cawed from somewhere near the trees. Her fingers dug into the dirt, finally clutching onto a protruding rock.
Falcon Hunter flew to the edge of the trees to the point where he could see Christina, but she couldn't see him. He quickly shifted form then raced to the edge where she clung to a rock with her fingertips.
"Help me ... please.” Fear clouded her eyes as she struggled to keep her grip.
Bending down, he grabbed hold of her arms to keep her from falling farther. “I've got you, u-s-ti sa-wu.” He pulled her up onto level ground until he knew she was safe from falling over the edge again. Then he collapsed by her side, the adrenaline rush gone, leaving him out of breath.
"Oh my God!” She peered at him through her disheveled hair. “It's you ... I thought you were a figment of my imagination."
He ignored her comment. “Are you hurt?"
She tried to turn over, only to howl in pain and grab her foot. “My ankle. It's throbbing."
Moving down to her feet, he reached to touch her. She did her best to wiggle away from him, wincing when the pain took over. “I'm not going to hurt you, Christina.” He gazed at her face as he wrapped his hands around her ankle.
She hissed in pain when he pressed on it to examine the extent of her injury. “Ow! Dammit, that hurts."
He hated that she was in pain, but she was cute when she was angry. The way she scrunched up her nose ... he couldn't help but find it sexy. “I don't think anything is broken, a-tsi-ye-hi. You probably need to go to the doctor."
"The hell I am. The chief's son is sick, and that's where I'm going.” She tried to get up, but he held her in place.
"There's no way you can get there alone. You can't even move your foot without pain."
"I don't care if I'm in pain. He needs me. Come hell or high water, I'm going to help him."
Hunter sighed. Some things never change. Like Running Doe, Christina is too damned stubborn for her own good. “Fine. I'll take you to the reservation myself.” He lifted her into his arms, heat surging straight to his groin just from holding her close. He wished he could show her the affect she had on him.
"Who are you really? It's obvious you aren't a fantasy from my overactive imagination.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I told you ... my name's Falcon Hunter."
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Chapter Six
No way in hell he was being honest. He must have overheard her talking about the Falcon Hunter in her dreams. Although, she did have to admit he looked identical to him. Electricity coursed through her veins. If not for the man holding her, she might die from shock.
"Do you honestly expect me to believe you are the same Falcon Hunter I've been dreaming about?” Oops. Her face warmed with embarrassment. She couldn't believe she'd said that out loud.
The man cradling her grinned, his laugh rumbling deep within his chest. “I can't help it if you've dreamed of me. I am who I say I am."
"You can't be."
"Why not? I've never claimed to be someone I'm not."
They made it back to the clearing in no time. The waterfall's splash was soothing and musical in the stillness of the day. No matter who he said he was, she couldn't help but appreciate his chiseled good looks. He almost looked as if he were carved from stone. From the top of his head to the tip of his...
"Um, Falcon Hunter? Where are the rest of your clothes?” Not that she minded the view of his backside in a breechcloth. Peering over his shoulder as he carried her, she could see his butt perfectly outlined beneath the small scrap of leather. She knew that many of the Native Americans preferred to dress in traditional garb, but most of them wore leggings, not breechcloths.
He froze for a second before resuming his trek down the trail. “I was involved in a nearby powwow and decided to take a walk through the woods. That's when I came upon you falling."
As far as she knew, there were no powwows going on in the area today. Maybe she'd mixed the dates up and was mistaken about when the next celebration was. “Oh. Well, I think before you venture into public, you should put on some more clothing."
He laughed as they reached her Jeep. “Do you think you can drive?"
"I think so since it was my left foot and not my right foot that was hurt."
He waited as she unlocked the doors with her automatic door opener, and then set her inside on the driver's side. “You better be careful."
She frowned at him. “You aren't going with me?” She'd finally found the guy from her fantasies. How could she let him leave, knowing she may never see him again?
"No. I have to get back to my group.” He glanced back toward the woods.
She hated to see him go, but she couldn't argue with him about it. Grabbing a business card from her glove box, she jotted down her phone number. “Call me sometime.” She turned around to hand him the card, but he was gone.
* * * *
Christina arrived at the reservation a few minutes later, a little worse for wear and madder than hell. What kind of games was Falcon Hunter playing? If that was even his name. For all she knew, he was playing her for a fool. She pulled to a stop and hobbled out to meet White Dove. It took all her willpower and strength to limp over to where the woman stood.
"I'm so glad you could come.” Tears streamed down the woman's worry-lined face. “I don't know what's wrong with my son.” She tugged Christina toward their home. “When Bear Paw finds out I called you, he may never forgive me."
"It's okay, White Dove.” She patted the woman's hand. “His anger and prejudice don't scare me.” At least, Christina didn't want the woman to know it did. Bear Paw was a very formidable leader. Being the focus of his anger wasn't something she looked forward to, but nothing would keep her from helping his son.
Ignoring the pain shooting up her leg from her ankle, Christina followed as fast as she could to the house where Eagle Feather lay. When she came in, it broke her heart to see one so small so sick. He was only eight years old. His skin was flushed as the fever took over his body.
Bear Paw turned around, his gaze narrowing on her and White Dove. “What's she doing here? She's not treating my son."
"I called her.” White Dove barely spoke above a whisper. “Eagle Feather needs her."
Knowing it would be up to her to stand up to this huge hulk of Indian, Christina said, “Your son is extremely sick, Bear Paw. He needs treatment now, and I can't in good conscience leave here without seeing to him."
"I don't care about your conscience. No half-breed woman is going to treat my son. You don't deserve to be a healer."
Pain pierced her heart. She'd known a lot of the Indians on the reservation held a prejudice against her, but she didn't know it ran so deep. “You are free to believe that, Bear Paw, but if I don't look at your son, he might die. I won't know how serious his illness is until I examine him."
When he didn't so much as move, she bristled and said, “Surely you aren't going to let your pride get in the way of your son's wellbeing, are you?"
"Please, Bear Paw,” White
Dove cried. “Let her check him out at least. He's our only son.” She fell on her knees beside Eagle Feather and wrung her hands with worry. “I can't lose him."
Bear Paw's nostrils flared as did his anger. His steely gaze focused on Christina, but she refused to cower before him. He stepped toward her, and she thought he might be about to throw her out of his house. Instead, he shoved past her and out the door, mumbling, “fine” through gritted teeth.
Christina rushed as much as her hurt ankle allowed to the boy's side. The heat emanating from his body burned through her before she even touched him. “White Dove, I need a bowl of lukewarm water and a washcloth.” The woman left the room, and Christina looked Eagle Feather over.
"Eagle Feather? Can you tell me what happened?"
The only response was a groan of pain as the boy clutched the sides of his head. This was definitely something more severe than a simple illness.
What have I gotten myself into? What if I can't cure this? Will the tribe ostracize me for good?
No way would she let that happen. She'd make damn sure this child made it through. Whatever the problem might be.
White Dove returned with the water and washcloth. Setting it beside Christina, she asked, “What can I do to help?"
"First, let's remove his clothes. We've got to try and cool him off.” She helped Eagle Feather's mother remove his T-shirt and shorts, leaving him in only his underwear.
Christina soaked the washcloth in the water, wrung out the excess, and ran it over the boy's chest. She did the same to his face, squeezing out water into his hair. Now that she'd gotten him completely disrobed, Christina couldn't help but notice how mottled his fevered body looked.
"Oh my ... He's not only burning up with a fever, but he's having an allergic reaction to something.” Lifting his arm, she examined the red marks on his skin. It didn't look like a reaction to poison ivy or oak. What could it be?
She took her herb pack off the hook on her belt loop and pulled out the sumac she'd bought from her grandmother. “White Dove, I need you to go make a tea out of this so we can lower his fever.” She instructed her on how to brew the tea out of the leaves and berries of the sumac, and asked her to hurry.
"What have you gotten yourself into, Eagle Feather?” While continuing to run lukewarm water over him, his arms and legs started to twitch. “First the fever, then the rash, and now muscle spasms. If I didn't know better, I'd think you'd been bitten by something."
White Dove came back with the tea and helped Christina raise the boy's head. Although he struggled to swallow, he managed to get some of the tea down. After laying him back down, Christina raised his other arm to run the cloth under it. Her gaze zeroed in on the inflamed area at the edge of his armpit. There, hidden under his arm, were two tiny marks surrounded by an irritated red circle.
"He's been bitten by some kind of spider. Shake out his clothes and see if it's still in them.” Christina watched as White Dove picked up Eagle Feather's clothes and jerked them around, but nothing fell out. It was a good thing she'd had her grandmother order some Fendler Bladderpod. She pulled it out of her bag and instructed White Dove on how to make the tea to treat spider bites. If it worked for the Navajos, then it should work just as well for the Cherokee.
Within a few minutes, White Dove returned with a steaming mug of tea. They lifted Eagle Feather's head again. “Be careful, sweetie, it's hot,” Christina said as she lifted the drink to his lips.
He made a face at the bitterness of the tea, but didn't refuse it. After she'd ensured he'd drunk a sufficient amount, she laid him back down. Folding the damp washcloth, she placed it on his forehead. She hoped to God this helped him and she hadn't treated him too late.
Please help him get better. I don't care if my status as a healer is on the line. I don't want this poor child to die because I didn't treat him right.
The woman beside her looked at her, a plea to save her son lighting her eyes. “What do we do now?"
"We wait and pray that the teas take effect soon."
White Dove nodded her head and stared at her son. Christina couldn't stand the look of defeat on her face. There was still hope the boy would recover. All wasn't lost yet. She needed to get the worried mother out of here so her son wouldn't sense the extent of his mother's fear for his life.
"White Dove, why don't you go check on your husband? I can handle things here and, if something should happen, I'll come get you.” When the woman hesitated, Christina continued, “I promise. I'm not going to leave his side."
Eagle Feather's mother nodded her head and backed slowly outside, her gaze never leaving her son. Christina turned her attention back to her patient. She flipped the moist cloth over so the cool side always touched his fevered skin. He continued to fidget for another fifteen minutes, but then began to settle down into an almost restful sleep.
Sighing, she moved the water bowl to a spot above his head. She lay down beside him so she would be near if he should need her. Christina wasn't aware she'd dozed off until a tickling in her pocket penetrated the dark fog of sleep clouding her brain. It took her a minute to realize it was her cell phone. Glancing at Eagle Feather, she was glad to see he still slept and his skin was no longer splotchy with a high fever. She touched his face and chest. He was no longer hot, but he was still a little warm. At least his fever was down.
She flipped the phone open. “Hello?"
"Hey, Christina, it's Kyle. I've been trying to reach you all afternoon. Where are you?"
Either he hadn't tried her cell phone or the vibration took awhile to wake her, because it hadn't vibrated since White Dove called. “I'm fine. I'm at the village treating a child with a spider bite.” She moved to the other side of the room so she wouldn't disturb the sleeping boy.
"Oh. I guess you meeting me for a drink tonight would be out of the question then."
How could he even ask such a thing? “Yeah, it is. I have to stay here until I know Eagle Feather's going to be okay. I do need to talk to you about something later, though."
"Do you want to talk about it now?"
She'd love to get this over with. She didn't want to drag out telling Kyle it wasn't going to work out between them because she was attracted to someone else, but she didn't think the phone was the best place to tell him. “No, not right now. I'll talk to you about it the next time we get together. Is that okay?"
He sighed as if he sensed what was coming. “If that's what you want, then that's fine."
"I've got to get off here and tend to Eagle Feather. I'll talk to you later, Kyle.” When he said goodbye, she flipped the phone shut.
She had no sooner taken a step back to where she'd been sitting when the phone vibrated again. Rolling her eyes, she said, “Hello?"
"It's Nana. Are you busy?"
Worry knotted in her stomach. Her grandmother rarely ever called on her cell phone unless it was an emergency. She didn't like the “newfangled gadgets” that today's people believed they needed. “I'm sitting with a sick child. What do you need, Nana?"
"Oh, I won't keep you long. I wanted to let you know I asked around about your dreams, and a friend of mine said she believed one of the village storytellers has told of a legend that resembles your dreams. You might want to see if you can find him and ask him about it."
"Okay, Nana. I'll try to later."
"I'll pray you're able to heal the sick little one. I love you. Bye."
"Bye, Nana.” The phone clicked in her ear as the line disconnected.
Christina sat back down beside Eagle Feather. Relief washed over her that his temperature had gone down even further. She raised his arm to check the bite mark. It was still irritated, but wasn't as red as it had been. She thought he was definitely going to make it through this, hopefully with no lasting effects. Assured that Eagle Feather would be fine, she went to find his parents.
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Chapter Seven
Hunter quickly shifted back to falcon form and followed Christina
to the village. Holding her in his arms had felt so right. His soul connected with hers the minute he had picked her up. His heart had raced at the mere touch of her skin; the pulse at the base of her neck had matched his beat for beat. What he wouldn't give to be able to tell her the truth of who she was and what she meant to him. It was becoming harder and harder to let her go every time he was around her in his human form. His throat tightened just thinking about her.
He landed near the chief's house and listened in as Christina argued her cause so she could treat his son. The chief's face reddened, his jaw tightening, as she told him that she didn't think he should stand in the way of his son's treatment. Even after all these centuries, the stigma against women healers had abated very little. Hunter trusted her judgment more than he'd ever trusted any healer before her. Not only because they were two halves of the same soul, but he'd seen what she could do. He'd watched her treat those who were so sick, those who were on the verge of death. Yet, she'd been able to bring them back from the brink. There was no one better than her. She knew what she was doing, and she had the Creator on her side. If anyone could help the sick child, she could.
After the chief stormed out of his house, Christina began to see to his son. The other villagers milled about, almost on eggshells, as though they were waiting for the chief to throw the female healer off the reservation. Everyone here knew what he thought about women healers. Hunter wished he could shake some sense into them. They weren't living in the old days any longer. Shaking his head, he turned his attention to the home Christina had entered, and waited.
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