by Pamela Clare
Kat suppressed an exasperated groan. Two minutes had gone by when she hadn't been thinking of Gabe, and Grandpa Red Crow just had to bring him up. "I'm meeting him at the butte this afternoon. I'm going to try to explain why it's sacred to us."
So much for canceling.
Grandpa chuckled. "Good. That's good. Maybe he can join us in the lodge. If he is with us, perhaps we can pray in peace."
The offer took Kat by surprise. It wasn't often that one of the elders asked an outsider to participate. Did Grandpa trust him that much? "I'll ask him."
She spent the morning cleaning her condo, then clipped last week's articles and mailed them to her grandmother, knowing that her mother or one of her sisters would be given the job of translating them and reading them aloud. Then she ran a few errands, buying groceries, getting gas, picking up her dry cleaning. When she got back, it was already time to get her things together for the inipi--towel, skirt, old T-shirt, prayer ties, food for sharing afterward--and drive to Boulder to meet Gabe.
She loaded her things into her truck, climbed in, and had just opened her garage door to back out when she saw it.
A coyote.
The hair on her nape rose.
It stood at the end of her driveway, staring at her, its tail full and bushy, its dull brown fur almost a match for the winter brown of her front lawn. She got out of the truck and slammed the driver's side door, certain her movements and the noise would frighten it away. But it only shifted on its front paws, its gaze still on her.
She opened the truck door again and grabbed her pouch of corn pollen out of the glove box. It's not that she truly believed crossing the coyote's path might throw her life out of balance. Sprinkling corn pollen in its footprints was a Navajo tradition, and she was just observing that tradition. That's what she told herself, anyway.
She turned toward it to find it walking lazily across her yard toward the park, looking over its shoulder back at her. Slowly, she walked to her yard where it had crossed her path and knelt down. Then she did what her grandmother had taught her to do, sprinkling yellow pollen onto its paw prints.
Two kids on bikes stared at her as they passed.
Now, do you feel silly?
Yes, she did. It's just that the last time a coyote had crossed her path...
Last time one crossed your path, you almost died.
SHE'D ALL BUT forgotten about the strange encounter with the coyote by the time she reached the outskirts of Boulder, her mind filled with new resolve. She would meet with Gabe as she'd agreed to do, sharing what she knew about Mesa
Butte with a man who played an important role as a guardian of the land. She would invite him to the inipi as Grandpa Red Crow had asked. And then, whether he attended or not, she would sweat him out of her system, refocusing her energy on things that mattered.
By the time she reached the butte, she had almost convinced herself that this would work. Then she turned the corner onto the access road--and she saw him.
Wearing only his dark green uniform trousers and those strange shoes he'd been wearing the day he'd rescued her, he was climbing along on the underside of an overhanging lip of rock, perhaps thirty feet above the ground. She couldn't see any ropes, which meant that if he fell ...
What did he think he was doing?
She parked her truck, jumped out, and stared, half in awe and half terrified that he would slip. His body moved like she'd never seen a man's body move before, powerful arms reaching for handholds, fingers gripping holds she couldn't see, his feet finding their own invisible purchase. His body seemed weightless, muscles bunching and shifting in their own rhythm as he worked his way along the length of the overhang, his motions strong and... beautiful.
Oh. My.
Her fear now pushed aside by an entirely different emotion, Kat couldn't take her gaze off him, the sight of him making her feel warm, stirring longings she'd ignored for years. She found herself wishing she felt as sexually free as Holly. What it would feel like to touch that body, to have those arms hold her, to be--
One of his feet slipped--and then the other.
Her stomach in free fall, Kat grabbed on to the open driver's side door as he hung suspended by only his fingertips, his arms stretched over his head. Then with strength that amazed her, he drew himself upward, the muscles of his bare arms, chest, and abdomen straining with the effort until his feet met rock again. Only when he reached the other side and began to climb down did Kat realize she'd been holding her breath.
His feet met the earth, and he walked over to her, grinning. "Sorry. I got here early and thought I could get some climbing in before you showed up."
But Kat was still clutching the door, fighting the falling sensation that had overwhelmed her the moment he'd slipped, her heart thudding, her legs shaky.
GABE SAW KAT'S bloodless face, her wide eyes. She looked like she'd just been frightened out of her skin. "Are you okay?"
Her gaze met his, the fear in her eyes transforming to anger. "You... You could have gotten yourself killed!"
"You were afraid for me?" Something warm spread inside his chest.
She glared up at him. "You almost fell!"
He heard the slight tremor in her voice, and then it came to him. It'd been only three months since her fall, and the experience was probably still visceral for her. "It's still with you, isn't it--the feeling of falling?"
She nodded, then looked down at her feet, her lashes dark against her cheeks.
He tucked a finger beneath her chin, lifted her gaze to his, unable to keep himself from running his thumb over the softness of her cheek. "I do this for a living, Kat. What you saw--that's nothing. It's just me relaxing after a day's work."
She let out a breath, stepped back from him, clearly still angry. "I guess that's the first difference in how we view the land. It's not just a big playground or something to be conquered. No Native man would ever climb here. Mesa Butte is for prayer."
Too touched by her concern to feel truly irritated, Gabe walked over to his truck, opened the door, and grabbed his T-shirt off the front seat. "Or maybe climbing is for me what the inipi is for you or what Sun Dance is for a Sun Dancer."
He'd never thought of it as prayer, exactly, but now that he'd said it, he supposed climbing was the closest he came to communing with any higher power.
"A Sun Dancer suffers for the sake of others, not for his own fulfillment."
Well, she had him there. And then again... "When my ability to climb enables me to save someone's life, is what I do still selfish?"
She said nothing this time.
Aware that she was watching him, he drew the shirt over his head, then reached for his duty belt and strapped it into place. Although he was off duty, he was unwilling to leave his sidearm unattended in his truck. He took off his climbing shoes and grabbed his socks and boots, then turned and sat facing outward on the driver's seat to put them on, his gaze drawn back to her.
The apology was in her eyes before she spoke. "I'm sorry. I..."
"You saw me slip, and it brought back the day you fell. I understand." He finished tying his boots, then reached for his coat, letting the subject drop. "I read the article, by the way. Great work."
The color was coming back to her cheeks. "Did I get you into trouble?"
"Nope." Webb had been more worried about possible blowback because of the complaint Gabe had filed against Daniels.
"Daniels claims you're connected to this woman and that's why you're supporting her complaint," Webb had said. "He says you seemed to know her."
"She's the woman who got caught in the rockslide at Eldo, so, yes, I recognized her," Gabe had answered. "But other than that, Daniels is full of shit, sir."
And that had been the end of it.
Gabe zipped his coat. "Can your leg handle hiking up, or should we drive?"
"It will be good for my leg to hike, but I probably won't be very fast."
"I'm in no hurry." He waited for her to reach his side, unable to help noticing how good she
looked in jeans, the motion of her hips as she walked undeniably female despite her limp, her long hair drawn back from her face by a silver barrette, her hands tucked in the pockets of her fleece-lined denim jacket.
They walked for a moment, no sound but the distant drone of cars and the crunching of gravel beneath their boots.
She spoke first. "I've never understood whether park rangers are like police officers or whether they're something completely different."
"We're like cops in every way. We have badges, carry firearms, wear Kevlar, have the full authority of the law. We arrest our share of drunk drivers, drug dealers, and fugitives, too, but we do it in the mountains. That brings its own challenges. Try chasing some armed lunatic uphill through dense undergrowth. We also deal with wilderness rescues and wildlife, something city police aren't trained to do."
"Is that what you always wanted to be--a mountain ranger?"
"I grew up here and spent all my spare time in the mountains, hiking, climbing, skiing. I got a degree in biology thinking I might become a wildlife vet, but when it came time to get a job, all I wanted to do was be outdoors. So I went through the police academy, trained as a paramedic, and then volunteered for some technically difficult search and rescue. I guess they figured I wasn't going away, so when a position opened up, they gave it to me."
She laughed. It was the first time he'd heard her laugh, and the sound of it warmed him like sunshine.
GABE HIKED SLOWLY up the access road, allowing Kat to set the pace. It was clear that every step hurt her, the muscles of her leg probably atrophied from three months of immobility, her tibia almost certainly still sore from whatever hardware the surgeon had used to bolt it back together. But she didn't complain or even ask him to rest, still every bit the woman who'd crawled away from the rockslide, dragging that leg behind her.
The sky was wide and blue, the sunshine warm, a brisk breeze blowing from the west, carrying the promise of snow. And as they walked along, Kat asking him questions about his job, Gabe felt some part of him letting go, a feeling of release he usually only got when he was alone in the mountains.
"What do you deal with most--animal problems or people problems?" She looked over at him, her cheeks pink from exertion.
"People problems--without a doubt. Even most animal problems are caused by people--people who leave garbage where it can attract bears, people who get too close to wildlife, people who let their dogs run off leash."
"What's the most common crime you see?"
"I'd say half of what we deal with are alcohol-related crimes or people having sex in public. If I had a dollar for every bare ass I've seen on the job..."
She looked up at him, surprise on her face. "You're kidding me!"
A virgin, Rossiter.
"No, I'm not. People get into the mountains and start feeling their animal instincts or something." Gabe understood that. Being outdoors stirred a person's senses--all of them. Walking beside Kat with his lungs full of fresh air certainly had Gabe's senses going, her femininity teasing him, the honey-sweet scent of her skin filling his head, the gleam of her dark hair making him want to run his fingers through it.
"I'll be walking along through the trees and see a man and woman jump up and start running with their pants around their ankles."
She laughed. "Do you arrest them?"
He shook his head. He'd done his share of fucking al fresco and would have felt like a hypocrite if he'd cited anyone else. "No. I figure they're humiliated enough as it is. If I find people having sex in a parked vehicle, I make sure it's consensual and then send them on their way."
"I can't imagine why anyone would want to risk getting caught like that."
"Crazy, huh?" Gabe had to fight back a grin, her naivete amusing.
They were about halfway up by now, the plains stretching to the east, the basalt dike that formed the backbone of the butte rising to the north, Boulder Valley stretching out behind them and, beyond it, the high peaks. A red-tailed hawk circled slowly above them, its rust-colored tail feathers catching the sunlight.
"So if I were a new volunteer for Mountain Parks and you had to explain to me the significance of Mesa Butte, what would you say?"
And now came the test.
"I would first explain its geological significance as evidence of earlier volcanic activity and talk about how erosion from the melting of the last ice age had washed the earth away, exposing the rock. Then I would talk about the importance of riparian habitat, which offers an especially rich environment for plants and animals. Because two rivers converge here, there's almost always water, even during the driest times. I would explain how essential the butte is for raptors, which use the crags for perching and nesting sites. I would point out that the butte provided food, water, and shelter for the Arapaho, Cheyenne, and other Plains nations, who hunted bison and antelope nearby, camped by the rivers, and used the butte for ceremonies."
Kat listened as Gabe went on, impressed by his understanding of the land. It wasn't the same as hers, exactly, but it wasn't terribly different, either. He saw how it all fit together--the land, the plants, the animals, the people--but his knowledge was scientific instead of spiritual. At the same time, she could tell it truly mattered to him. The land, the plants, the four-legged creatures, the winged ones--they mattered to him.
"You really love it out here, don't you?" she asked when he had finished.
"Why else would I choose to be a ranger when I could sit at a nice desk all day playing with paper clips?" He grinned, making her pulse trip.
She was surprised how comfortable she felt being out here with him. There was an easiness to it, something she certainly hadn't expected after their last meeting in the restaurant. He seemed to belong here as much as she did.
The wind knows him.
The truth of that realization startled her. Then she thought of Grandpa Red Crow, who, for some reason, already trusted Gabe. He'd always had a sixth sense about people.
"So how'd I do? Better than the average Bilagaanaa?"
Kat couldn't help but smile at his use of that Navajo word. "How did you know I'm Navajo? Is it the earrings? And how do you know so much about Indian culture, like the Sun Dance and the inipi?"
He chuckled. "All rangers are required to undergo training in local history and indigenous culture. As for how I knew you were Navajo, you told me in the restaurant. You said your family lived in a hogaan, remember?"
"Yes, I remember." So he was a man who listened. She liked that.
"What clan are you?"
"I was born to the Ashiihi--Salt Clan." If she'd had a Navajo father, she'd have been able to tell him what clan she'd been born for--one was born to the clan of one's mother and for the clan of one's father--but she didn't even know who her father was. She wondered if Gabe would be able to tell that she was fatherless. If so, he said nothing, so she changed the subject. "You did very well--much better than the average Bilagaanaa. But let me explain what we know."
She told how any place where two rivers came together was believed to be sacred by itself and how two rivers at the base of a high place like Mesa Butte marked it as special, a place set aside by Creator for people to pray. She told him how the Old Ones would have found everything they needed right here--wood from the river valley below, stones that retained heat well, deer, bison, and antelope for food and clothing, and a clear view in all four directions should enemies approach.
They were near the top now, the access road widening as it came to its end. And there up ahead she saw a familiar pickup truck, the driver's side door open.
"Grandpa Red Crow is here."
"He's the old guy who was pouring water for the inipi that night, right?"
Kat nodded. "He's one of our most revered elders, a Hunkpapa Lakota medicine man from Rosebud. He wants me to invite you to tonight's inipi."
"He's holding an inipi up here tonight?" The tone of Gabe's voice told her he didn't think this was a great idea.
"Yes. Now that we know what ha
ppened, he says he sees no reason why we can't go on as we did before. Besides, he refuses to be driven off the land. He wanted me to invite you to join us. He thinks we might be left in peace if there's a ranger with us."
"Oh, I see. He just wants me there for my badge--is that it?"
Realizing what she'd said--or, rather, how she'd said it--Kat rushed to explain, afraid she'd hurt his feelings. "Oh, no! No! That's not what I meant. He--"
A grin spread across Gabe's face, and Kat realized he was teasing her. "I'm honored by the invitation. Still, it might not be such a great idea to hold another ceremony here until the city clarifies its position on the land-use code."
"Why should we wait when we have a right to be here?"
The butte leveled out, the sweat lodge standing off to their left, a pile of firewood beside it, waiting to be split. Grandpa Red Crow's ax was there, but he wasn't.
"Does he usually arrive this early?" Gabe asked, turning and glancing about them.
Kat nodded, expecting to see Grandpa Red Crow any moment. "He cleans the lodge and splits wood for the fire chief to use."
They stood there for a good fifteen minutes, debating whether it was wise to hold another inipi, but still Grandpa Red Crow did not appear. Kat began to worry about him. He wasn't a young man. If he'd twisted his ankle on the steep terrain or gotten sick...
"Have you ever been to the top?" Gabe asked, looking up at the flat, rocky crown that formed the butte's summit.
Kat shook her head. "It's almost always dark when I'm here."
"Come on. The view is amazing."
"I... I don't know if I should."
His brows knitted together in a frown. "Is it against your beliefs to go up there?"
"No. Nothing like that. It's just..." How was she going to explain this to a man who hung upside down from cliffs for fun? "Ever since I fell, I've had a bad fear of heights. I... I get dizzy and..." She willed herself to meet his gaze, expecting to see disappointment in his eyes, but finding understanding.
"I'm not surprised. You took one hell of a fall. But that's a solid basalt dike. It's not going to disappear from beneath your feet." Then he looked straight into her eyes. "And I promise I won't let you fall."
