Love's Dream Song

by Leesmith, Sandra

  Jess paused to consider.

  Dr. Davidson roused himself and spoke. “No. We can’t do that. They have to be listed according to provenance in relation to one another. Scientific research requires…”

  Jess interrupted. “There’s no time. You’ll be in less danger if the pieces are taken out of here. How long would it take you to pack them up?”

  Dr. Davidson protested. He and Jess argued for several minutes while others from the team tossed in their opinions. Autumn could understand the professor’s reluctance to move the pieces, but she also realized they’d be safer at the ranch.

  It was finally decided that Autumn and Wayne would photograph the artifacts in the kiva to record their location and then help Dr. Davidson wrap the pieces. Others were assigned to lift them out and carefully put them in the saddlebags.

  The rest of the group returned to the campsite to begin their personal packing. Several assigned themselves to fix food. The group that brought the saddlebags and mules to the kiva brought sandwiches, which Autumn gladly ate. It had been a long and stressful day.

  Finally, they were down to the last bags. Dr. Davidson came up to Autumn as she was packing the last mule.

  “I’m going with Barron. I don’t want to let these out of my sight.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” She couldn’t blame the professor for wanting to guard what was left of his discovery.

  “What’s going on?” Jess shouted as he approached. Sweat streaked the layers of dirt covering his body.

  “I’m going with you,” Dr. Davidson explained.

  “I’d already planned to take Autumn.”

  Autumn stared in surprise.

  “You should select four others to go also. You’ll move faster with someone leading each mule,” Dr. Davidson advised.

  “He’s right,” Autumn agreed.

  “I’ll go,” Wayne volunteered.

  Connie stepped up to the group. “Let me send Ken, my cameraman. He can take care of the film when you arrive.”

  Jess considered for several minutes. “I don’t like it, but you’re probably right. He can go,” he finally told them. “I’ll take you, too.” He pointed to an anthropologist who’d been one of the many edging closer to hear what was going on.

  While they waited for the men to pack their gear and grab a bite to eat, she worried about the trip. It was going to be a long, hard trek, most of it at night.

  .

  CHAPTER 7

  It was late afternoon when they headed out. They followed the main canyon for about two miles and then cut into a side wash. It was a steep shortcut to the upper plateau, where the ranch buildings were located. The rest of the group would climb out on the longer trail that wound its way up a gradual descent through the large canyon. That route took two days. Jess explained that this trail was steeper—especially the last two miles—but they could make it to the ranch by morning.

  At first the side canyon was narrow and the climb was gradual. They hiked single file between the steep walls. Their footsteps echoed like shots, as did the snorts of the mules.

  For several hours they guided the stubborn animals. When nightfall came, moonlight reflected off the white sand and made it easy to follow the trail. Dr. Davidson and the others lagged behind to stay out of their dust. Jess hiked beside Autumn.

  She welcomed his company. She wasn’t afraid to travel in the desert at night. She’d done it often to avoid the blistering heat of summer days. But ever since the explosion, she’d been skittish. Night noises that had never bothered her before set her nerves on edge. His strength and confidence kept her calm.

  The others had lagged farther behind. She couldn’t hear their mules, only hers, and the sharper hoofbeats of Jess’s stallion.

  “Shall we stop and wait for Dr. Davidson and the others?” Her voice cut into the silence.

  “Are you tired? We can rest.”

  His concern touched her, but she didn’t need a rest. “I just thought you wanted to stick together.”

  “They aren’t that far back. I can hear them.”

  Autumn listened, but nothing sounded except the chirp of a cricket. “You have hearing like Real Tall Man.”

  “That’s a compliment.”

  “He’s a fine man.” She forgot about Dr. Davidson and the others. “You’re lucky to know him.”

  “When you grow up in this part of the country, you know your neighbors.”

  “I wish I had grown up here. I’ve tried hard to get to know my relatives, but they’ve made it difficult.”

  “Maybe they don’t trust your reasons for wanting to know them.”

  Autumn considered that. “I’ve made my reasons clear. I tried to visit years ago. I thought at the time that I wasn’t welcome.”

  “You never told me that.”

  How could she begin to explain the complexities of the situation? Even though she and Jess had been close, she’d been too sensitive and insecure about her relationship with the clan to discuss their strange reluctance to welcome her. She hadn’t had the courage to tell him. Yet now, for some reason, she wanted to tell Jess about her first meeting with Real Tall Man and the clan. Maybe he could help her make some sense out of the confusing dilemma, especially now that they were no longer involved as a couple.

  “It’s a long, complicated story.” She paused, wondering if he would truly comprehend.

  “I’m a good listener, and we certainly have time to pass.”

  She smiled, but realized he couldn’t see it in the dark. “Maybe that’s what I need—a good sounding board.”

  “Give it a try. It’ll be just between you and me.”

  “And the stars.”

  “They’ve always been my friends.”

  His voice echoed in the night, wrapping around her like a warm blanket. “My freshman year, I went to the University of California in Los Angeles. My father’s family lives in Bel-Air.” Memories of the O’Neills lightened her mood. In contrast to the clan, they were open and demonstrative of their love. “My aunt had invited me to live with her family. Their house is only a short distance from the campus. My grandparents were nearby also, so my parents encouraged me to go to school there.”

  Autumn skirted the thorny bushes that stretched branches across their path. Her mule balked at the sudden change in direction. Autumn soothed the animal as she guided him around the brush. Jess followed close behind, and when they came to a wider section of the trail, he eased beside her.

  Autumn continued. “It was during my second semester that I found out about my real mother. It was so strange. I was sitting outside on the grass studying. It was one of those sunny days, and I had a couple of hours between classes.” She could still picture the lush greenery of the campus and remember the birds singing and the distant laughter of students as they passed by on the walkways.

  “I was reading my literature assignment when all of a sudden a strange woman sat down in front of me.

  “At first the woman’s presence startled me. The fact she’d sat so near when there were acres of grassy spots struck me as odd. But when she stared, I realized she wanted to talk.”

  “She was an old Indian woman. Her skin was weathered and her hair was streaked with gray. She had on a calico skirt and velveteen blouse that I remember thinking must have been hot. But the jewelry impressed me the most. She had on several necklaces and a belt of silver and turquoise.”

  Autumn stepped around loose rocks, not really paying attention to the trail as her mind traveled back in time. “She didn’t belong in that setting, yet for some reason, she didn’t seem out of place either. She was one of those timeless people who are so at peace with themselves they don’t need to conform.”

  “A rare individual,” Jess commented. “I know someone else like that.”

  His statement would have aroused her curiosity, but she was too engrossed in the past. She hadn’t thought about the woman’s visit in years, yet now she remembered every detail.

  “She was old. Beau
tiful. Her presence calmed me. It was a good thing, too, because what she told me was very strange. In fact, I didn’t believe her at first.”

  “She told you about your relatives?”

  “Yes. It sounded so extraordinary. Then it started to make sense, which is even more bizarre.”

  “Did you check out her story?” Jess asked.

  “She told me where to find the record of my birth, and even the name of the adoption agency that had placed me.”

  The memory of the woman brought regret as well as warmth. It would be such a comfort to be able to talk to her again and find out more about her real mother. Mention of Dora Ross was taboo among the clan. “The odd thing is, the clan won’t accept the fact that I’m Dora’s daughter, yet the woman insisted it was my duty and destiny to come to Arizona and see them.”

  “The Navajo do not like to lose their children. They’ll usually go to great extents to reclaim them.”

  “Yes, I’ve been reading about the court case going on where the tribe wants to reclaim the child adopted by Anglo parents.” It was another thorn that dug into her heart. That clan was fighting for their lost child. Why didn’t the máii deeshghizhnii try to claim her? “They are from another clan, though. Each one operates differently. When I came to meet Real Tall Man and introduce myself to the clan, they were not at all pleased to accept this long-lost daughter.”

  “When was that?”

  “As soon as the semester ended, I traveled to Ganado, to the place where the woman told me to go.”

  Jess did some quick arithmetic and realized she’d come when he’d been on active duty in the army. No one had told him about Autumn’s visit, but that wasn’t unusual. At that time, he didn’t want to know anything about the reservation. He hadn’t been interested in who was there, nor had he cared about who visited.

  Since his stint in Special Services, he’d been forced to renew his interest in all the comings and goings of the nearby reservations. His connections in Mexico and his knowledge of Spanish and several Indian dialects had brought him to the attention of the U.S. Senate Commission on Illegal Drugs. Now that he worked on assignment for the government, he had reestablished contact with the Navajo, Hopi, and White Mountain Apache. This would have pleased Daya, of course. She had wanted him to accept his heritage as a White Mountain Apache. He communicated as required, but he’d never return to their way.

  Autumn’s voice cut into his bitter musings. He reminded himself that he had a job to do, and it involved Autumn’s reasons for being here.

  “I left, very disappointed and hurt. You see, I thought they would be glad to meet me.”

  “Didn’t they believe you were family?” He knew of Arlo’s doubts, but he also knew that Arlo had extremely bitter feelings about his sister Dora.

  “They believed me, but I didn’t understand their silence. I was used to my father’s family. They hug, kiss, make a big celebration out of every occasion. I misinterpreted Real Tall Man’s reaction because I didn’t know of his ways.”

  “So you left,” he surmised.

  “I was very angry and confused. I ran home to my family. My brothers thought I was crazy to be upset over relatives who obviously didn’t care.”

  She had to stop talking as they came to a steep incline. The trail narrowed and Jess moved ahead of her to lead the way. As he guided his horse, his mind raced with possibilities. Maybe bitterness and hurt had motivated her to punish the clan by dealing in drugs—a form of revenge.

  Quickly he traversed the narrow stretch, anxious to continue the conversation. Shadows criss-crossed the canyon floor. In the distance a coyote howled; it was a good sign. Daya would claim the spirits were watching and protecting him. He didn’t need the spirits. He needed strong legs and a sharp wit.

  The incline leveled, which allowed the wash to widen. There was at least another mile before the trail narrowed again. He slowed his pace and waited for Autumn to catch up.

  “Didn’t this woman who visited you on campus help you any?” If he could find out who she was, she might know about Autumn’s involvement with the drug ring. A woman who’d kept track of a lost daughter would continue to keep tract of her activities. “Who is she?”

  “That’s the strange part. I’ve never seen her again. It’s as if she didn’t exist.”

  “Did you ask Real Tall Man?”

  “He claims he’s never heard of her. Unfortunately, I didn’t think to ask her name. I was so shocked at the time, I’m not even sure if I thanked her for the news. In fact, I doubt I did because at that point I didn’t even believe her.”

  “And you’ve asked around since coming here?”

  “Yes. I’ve met the women in the clan—my aunts, cousins.”

  Her voice trailed off. Jess tried to remember if he’d heard anything about this. There had to be an explanation. If the woman was old, she may have died before Autumn left that summer. She could have been a distant aunt living off the reservation and not necessarily in touch with Real Tall Man. He would look into it when he returned to the ranch.

  They continued walking in silence, both deep in their own thoughts. The night song echoed against the steep canyon walls as crickets chirped and tree frogs screamed their piercing cry. Somewhere on the cliffs above, a pack of coyotes yipped, probably tussling over a shared meal.

  The sounds reassured Jess. They were of his world, familiar and known. Behind him he could hear the snorts from his horse as the animal breathed in the balmy desert air. Beside him Autumn walked, her steps sure, her perfumed scent wafting in the night breeze.

  For a brief moment he felt a close kinship to her. He sensed her hurt.

  He wondered if Autumn had found out what had happened to Dora Ross. The subject was obviously painful to Real Tall Man and the clan also. And from talking to Autumn, he’d guess she had no idea what a hornet’s nest of emotion she was stirring up.

  For a few moments, resentment built within him. He wanted to yell at her and tell her to go back where she’d come from. No—there was a better way. He’d tell her the truth.

  “I found out what happened to your mother.”

  Autumn stopped midstride and glared. “And you never bothered to tell me?”

  He didn’t fault her the accusation that rang in her voice. He’d promised to find out months ago, but that had been before the drug ring had moved in. “You know who Emma Ross was?”

  “My grandmother? She was an Anglo schoolteacher.”

  Jess continued. “Emma taught the four children at home until they reached high school. Then she sent them to the Phoenix Indian Boarding School.”

  “I knew that much. Emma died while Dora and Arlo were still there. Thomas and Lee had already graduated.”

  He could sense the frustration and anger, and for a fleeting moment, he sympathized. Maybe he should let the matter rest.

  “So what happened?” She didn’t bother to hide her impatience.

  Jess realized Autumn would persist. He continued. “During Dora’s senior year, Emma began showing the effects of her cancer. She arranged for Dora and Arlo to spend the summer at a friend’s house in Phoenix.”

  “What about Thomas and Lee?”

  “They were still at law school and had summer jobs.”

  Jess’s stallion sidestepped and he paused to soothe the animal before giving a tug on the reins. Autumn waited, her mule obviously more than happy for the rest. “Anyway, the family was Anglo. I guess Dora and Arlo fit right in. They started dating whites.”

  “They both could pass as Anglo,” Autumn commented.

  “Evidently so. Dora became pregnant, but when the father…” He paused, not liking to cause pain. “…your father, I guess, found out Dora was half Navajo, he cut out on her.”

  “Seems like a lame excuse to me. What difference would her bloodlines make? He’d already been sleeping with her.”

  He could hear the hurt underlying the sarcasm.

  “Do you know who he was?”

  Jess hesitated. He didn
’t know the man’s name, but what he did know would hurt her more. “Dora never told. She’d been dating several men and wouldn’t name the father.”

  Her sigh echoed in the night. “Maybe Arlo knows.”

  He heard the speculation, but quickly squelched any ideas she might have of pursuing them. “If Arlo does know, he’d never tell. The whole incident filled him with such bitter hatred, he came back to the reservation and denounced any part of being white.”

  “And Dora?”

  Again Jess hesitated. The ugliness cut too close to his own nightmares, but she had to know. Maybe if she did, she’d reconsider being involved with drugs. “Dora gave you up for adoption, but she also dropped out of school. From what I gather, she became some guy’s mistress for a year, and when that broke up, she headed for L.A. The last any of the clan heard, she’d become a prostitute and died from a combination of venereal diseases and cirrhosis of the liver.”

  “Alcohol?” Autumn’s voice sounded distant.

  Jess imagined she was in shock, but memories of the horror of alcoholism hardened his heart. “A legacy of The People.” He didn’t bother to hide the bitterness.

  They hiked in silence after that. Jess let the truth sink in, wondering if it cut into her conscience. Cocaine was another drug, just as destructive as alcohol.

  A slight sound came from her direction. It hadn’t been clear, but he knew it was a sob. Remorse set in, but he hardened himself to it. He couldn’t afford the intimacy of comfort.

  Another sound brought him to an abrupt halt.

  “What’s the matter?” Autumn paused beside him, her voice shaky.

  He pulled on his stallion’s guide rope. “I thought I heard something.”

  She straightened and searched the trail. “Do you think we’ll run into trouble?”

  “I thought I heard Davidson calling,” he lied. “I guess it was my imagination.”