The next day passed all too quickly. Cindy loved watching the dancing—the costumes, the music, the excitement. She didn’t think she would ever get tired of it.
She and Ethan made small talk on the way home. He had been prepared for her to be somewhat critical of reservation life. Knowing where she lived and how she had been brought up, he had thought she might look down her nose at his people and the way they lived, but she never expressed anything except admiration for his people, and he loved her all the more because of it.
“I overheard your uncle telling some of the kids a story,” she said, “but I didn’t hear the end.”
“What story?”
“Something about an eagle and a prairie chicken.”
Ethan nodded. “I remember that one. He told it to me when I was young.”
She nudged him in the side with her elbow. “Well, tell me!”
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “The way I recall it, there was a brave who found an eagle’s egg and placed it in a prairie chicken’s nest. The eagle hatched with the prairie chicken’s young and grew up with them.
“Thinking he was a prairie chicken, the eagle spent his life doing what the chickens did. He scratched in the dirt for seeds and ate insects. He clucked and he cackled. And when he flew, it was with a great thrashing of wings, and then only for a short distance a short way off the ground, because that was the way the prairie chickens flew.
“Years passed, and the eagle grew old. One day he saw a beautiful bird soaring high above him. The bird floated with graceful majesty on the powerful wind currents, soaring with scarcely a beat of its strong golden wings.
“‘What a beautiful bird!’ the eagle said to his neighbor. ‘What is it?’
‘“That’s an eagle,’ his neighbor said, ‘the chief of all the birds. But don’t give him a second thought. You could never be like him.’
“So the changeling eagle never gave it a second thought and died thinking he was a prairie chicken. Built to soar high in the heavens, but conditioned to stay earthbound, it lived its whole life pecking at seeds and eating insects and never reached the heights for which it had been born.”
“That’s a wonderful story!” Cindy said, and then she looked at him and grinned. “Reminds me of that bumper sticker from a few years ago that said Don’t Let the Turkeys Get You Down.”
“Yeah. My uncle always told me I could be anything I wanted to be, as long as I believed it.”
“What do you want to be?”
Ethan slid a quick glance in her direction. “Just what I am.”
“You’re happy working for your aunt on the ranch? You don’t want to be a doctor or a lawyer?”
“Not even an Indian chief,” he said with a grin. “I’m happy just being one of the Indians.”
“But you could be so much more.”
“One day the ranch will be mine. My aunt has no one else to leave it to. I’ll never be rich, but I’m happy there. I like the life, I like being my own boss. I like being close to the rez.”
Cindy nodded, but didn’t say anything.
Ethan blew out a sigh. She loved him. He didn’t doubt that for a minute. And he loved her, but maybe love wasn’t enough when two people were as different as they were.
“I forgot to tell you,” he said. “I’m taking a group out on an overnight ride tomorrow.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, they want to rough it. You know, camp out, cook over an open fire, sleep under the stars.”
“Sounds awful,” she said. “Can I go?”
“I wish you could.”
“Why can’t I?”
“All the horses are spoken for except one, and he’s lame.”
“Oh.”
“It’s only one night.”
“I know, but we’ve missed so many already.”
They pulled into the ranch yard a few minutes later. Ethan parked the car in front of her cabin and drew her into his arms.
She looked up at him. “Don’t you want to come in?”
“We’re leaving at six tomorrow morning.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And I’ve got a lot to do before then.”
“All right.”
He ran his finger down her cheek, then tapped it against her lips. “Try to miss me a little, okay?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” He pulled her against him and kissed her, his hands caressing her back, delving into her hair.
“Okay, okay,” she said with a teasing grin. “I’ll miss you.”
“That’s better. . . .”
“A little,” she said.
He gave a low growl deep in his throat, then kissed her again, until her insides felt like they were melting.
“Okay,” she said breathlessly. “A lot.”
“I’ll see you as soon as I get back.”
“All right. Be careful. Ethan?”
“What?”
“One more kiss?”
He obliged her gladly, his kiss a brand and a promise.
She climbed out of the truck reluctantly, and stood there staring after him as he drove away, her heart filled to the brim. He did love her. Even though he hadn’t said the words, she knew it was true.
Chapter Fourteen
A steady pounding on the door roused her some time later. She woke reluctantly, not wanting to leave her dream behind and face reality. It had been such a lovely dream. She had been sitting with Ethan beside a quiet stream that meandered through a sunlit meadow. He had been leaning forward, his dark eyes alight with desire, focused on her lips. . . .
Throwing the covers aside, she reached for her robe and padded barefoot to the door. She opened it, yawning.
“You still in bed?”
“Ethan! What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”
“A quarter after seven,” he said, sweeping her into his arms. “I should be at the stable. Instead, there are twelve guests cooling their heels while I stand here, waiting for a kiss.”
“Better take more than one, then,” she said, smiling up at him, “to make their wait worthwhile.”
He kissed her and kissed her again. “Remember, you promised to miss me,” he said.
“I remember. I miss you already.”
“With you here, waiting for me, they may not get as long a trip as they want.” He claimed her lips once more in a fiercely possessive kiss, gave her a hug that nearly cracked her ribs, and was gone.
She was still smiling when she climbed back into bed and fell asleep, only to be awakened a short time later by the ringing of the phone.
She answered on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Cynthia?”
She sat up. “Mom?”
“You’ve got to come home right away! Your father. . .”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“He’s in the hospital. . . His heart . . . it’s bad, honey.”
“I’ll rent a car and be home as soon as I can. Try not to worry.”
“Hurry.”
“I will. I love you, Mom. See you soon.”
She hung up the phone and scrambled out of bed. Twenty minutes later, she was dressed and packed and waiting for someone to drive her into town. Her dad was in the hospital. Cindy could barely grasp it. He had always been so strong, so indomitable. As a little girl, she had idolized him, and like all little girls, she had planned to marry him when she grew up. He had always been there for her, comforting her when her best friend had moved to Rhode Island, going trick or treating with her on Halloween. He had taken her side when her biology teacher had accused her of cheating on a test, had missed several weekends on the golf course to stay home and teach her to shoot baskets so she could beat her brother at one-on-one. When she wanted a canopy bed, he had bought it for her. Cindy wished she had told him she loved him the last time she’d talked to him on the phone. What if she never got another chance?
It wasn’t until she was in the truck headed down the highway that she realized she had forgotten to leave a not
e for Ethan.
It was late afternoon when she reached home. She left the car in the driveway and ran up the stairs and into the house.
“Mom?”
“She’s not here.”
Cindy whirled around to see Reyna, the housekeeper, standing in the kitchen doorway. “Where is she? My dad. . .”
“She’s at the hospital. He took a turn for the worse early this morning. The doctor—”
Cindy didn’t wait to hear more. Grabbing her handbag and the car keys, she ran back outside.
The traffic was heavy at this time of day, adding to the tension that was drawing her nerves tighter with every passing minute. She drove with both hands on the wheel, all her attention focused on the road ahead of her. She couldn’t think of her dad, not now, or she’d burst into tears.
She pulled into the hospital parking lot ten minutes later and parked the car, then sat there staring at the building. She hated hospitals—the look of them, the antiseptic smell, the sickly green walls.
Taking a deep breath, she got out of the car and hurried across the parking lot and into the lobby.
A receptionist sat behind a curved desk. She looked up at the sound of Cindy’s footsteps. “May I help you?” she asked.
“Could you please tell me what room Jordan Wagner is in?”
The receptionist looked through a card file. “He’s on the third floor in Intensive Care.”
“Thank you.”
Cindy didn’t have to ring for an elevator; one was waiting. She stepped inside and pushed 3, then clenched her hands together as the car rose upward. Moments later, she stepped out into a wide hallway. She followed the arrows to ICU and found her mother sitting on a chair outside the double doors.
“Mom?”
“Cynthia!” Her mother rose and hurried toward her.
Cindy threw her arms around her and hugged her close. “How is he?”
“He’s bad. They’ll only let me in for five minutes every hour.”
“Are you holding up okay? Have you called Uncle Jimmy? Come on, let’s sit down.”
Cindy led her mother back to the row of chairs that lined the wall and they sat side by side, holding hands. Her mother looked worn-out. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and her hair was slightly mussed.
“Jimmy and Ilsa will be here tonight.”
“What happened? Daddy’s never been sick a day in his life.”
Tears dripped down her mother’s cheeks. “We were watching the Late Show. Your father got up to get us something to drink. . . .” She shook her head. “I heard a noise in the kitchen, and when I went in there, he was on the floor. He hit his head on the edge of the counter. He’s got a nasty cut on the back of his head.”
“Why didn’t you call me when it happened?”
“I tried, but the line was busy every time I called and then things got hectic and. . .” Claire took a deep shuddering breath. “I was so upset, the doctor gave me a sedative and it knocked me out.”
“It’s all right, Mom, I’m here now.”
“The doctor said his heart’s probably been bad for a long time. He said he’s surprised it hadn’t happened before now. You know your dad. He never goes in for a checkup like he should, never takes a day off. And he refused to stop smoking, even though I begged him to.” She squeezed Cindy’s hands. “I’m so afraid.”
“I know, Mom, but he’ll be okay. He has to be.” Cindy forced a smile. “He’s too ornery to die.”
Claire sniffed and smiled through her tears. “I’m so glad you’re here. Did you have a good time at the ranch?”
Cindy nodded. “He was there, Mom.”
“Paul? Yes, I know. He called. He’ll be here tomorrow.”
“No, not Paul. Ethan.”
“That Indian dancer? He was at the dude ranch? Is that why you went there?”
“No. His aunt owns it. I didn’t know he was going to be there.”
“Is he the reason you left Paul?”
“I still love Ethan, Mom, more than ever.”
“Cynthia, honey. . .”
“Don’t say it.”
“Well, whatever you do, don’t mention it to your father. Not now!”
“Where’s Lance?”
“He went on vacation with the Longs. They’re backpacking in the mountains. There’s no way to reach them.”
“And Joe?” Her older brother was a lawyer in Boston.
“He’ll be here as soon as he can.”
It was a long day. They took turns going in to see her father. Cindy was shocked at how old and thin he looked. His skin was pale and cool, his cheeks sunken. He was surrounded by monitors, with wires and tubes going everywhere. It was a frightening thing to see.
She and her mother went down to the cafeteria for dinner, though neither of them had much of an appetite.
Cindy tried to make small talk, hoping to take their minds off the seriousness of her father’s condition, but she quickly ran out of things to say. Nothing else seemed important, not with her father so close to death.
Her mother went in to see him when they went back upstairs. Cindy sat on one of the hard chairs and thought about Ethan. He’d be stretched out in his bedroll now, out under the stars. Was he thinking about her? Did they really have a chance to patch things up between them? Their backgrounds were so different, yet what did that really matter if they loved each other? He was a smart man. He wouldn’t have any trouble finding a job here in town. They could get an apartment close to her folks. And she could work, too. She frowned. There was always a chance that Ethan might want to stay on at the ranch. That would take some getting used to, but she was willing to give it a try, if that was what he wanted. Sooner or later, their families would just have to accept them, and if not. . . She didn’t want to think about that. She loved her parents, and she knew Ethan had a great love and respect for his mother. Somehow, they would make it work!
Ethan folded his arms behind his head and gazed up at the stars wheeling across the sky. It had been a good ride and now everyone was settled down for the night. He could hear one of the men snoring nearby. An owl hooted in the distance. A horse stamped its foot.
It was a beautiful night, warm and clear. If Cindy had been there beside him, it would have been perfect. He could hardly believe she was back in his life. Was he making a mistake, thinking they could pick up where they’d left off? Nothing had really changed. She was still a spoiled rich girl, and he was still an Indian with a police record.
He shook his head, remembering the night he had been arrested. It had been shortly after their breakup. He had been in a bar, drinking with a couple of buddies, their girlfriends and a pretty blonde they were trying to set him up with. He rarely had more than a beer or two, but that night he was downing whiskey shooters in an effort to forget a raven-haired girl with sky-blue eyes. He was well and truly drunk when some dude wearing a ten-gallon hat, a cowhide vest and matching boots started making cracks about Indians dating white women. Ethan had held his temper as long as possible, but he’d lost it when the wasichu started hitting on his date. Ethan had told the man to back off. The man had made a suggestion that was not only crude but physically impossible. The hot words between them had soon turned to blows, and the next thing Ethan knew, he was behind bars for being drunk and disorderly. Dorothea had come to his rescue. He didn’t think he would ever get over the humiliation he’d felt when he found himself behind bars. Even now, the memory filled him with shame and remorse, made him feel he wasn’t good enough for Cindy, even though he’d rarely had a drink since that night.
He grinned faintly as he saw a shooting star streak across the sky. Cindy always closed her eyes and made a wish on a shooting star. He had often teased her about it, but tonight he closed his eyes and made a wish of his own.
Chapter Fifteen
Rudy rode up alongside Ethan. “Where are you going? The Creek Trail is that way.”
“We’re taking a short cut.”
“Short cut?” Rudy glanced at his
watch. “We’ll be back at the ranch three hours early if we go this way.”
Ethan nodded. The ride was supposed to last until dusk, but he couldn’t wait that long to see Cindy again.
“Some of the guests are liable to complain,” Rudy remarked.
“I doubt it.” Ethan glanced over his shoulder to where the riders were strung out behind him. Most of them looked more than ready to call it a day.
“You’re the boss,” Rudy said.
Ethan grunted softly and urged Dakota into a canter.
“Gone?” Damn, he never should have taken her to the reservation, never let her see where he’d come from. “What do you mean, she’s gone?”
Dorothea shook her head. “Calm down, Nephew.”
“Where did she go?”
“How should I know?” his aunt asked wryly. “Tourists rarely leave a forwarding address.”
Ethan swore under his breath. He’d spent the last two days thinking of her here, waiting for him. He’d been counting the hours until he could see her again, and she hadn’t even been here.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
Dorothea waved at him, then turned to answer the phone.
His hand was on the screen door when his aunt called his name. He glanced over his shoulder to see her holding the phone out toward him. “It’s her,” she said, as he approached the counter.
He took a deep breath as he reached for the phone. “Hello?”
“Ethan, hi.”
“Hi yourself.”
“Are you all right?” she asked. “You sound kind of funny.”
“Do I? Maybe that’s because I expected you to be here when I got back.” He laughed bitterly. “You’re making quite a habit of running away.”
“Is that what you think I did?”
“Didn’t you?” He heard the sneer in his voice and hated himself for it.
“No.”
“So you didn’t run off? Funny, I don’t see you here.”
“Ethan, if you’d just listen. . .”
He reined in his temper as best he could. “Go on, I’m listening.”
“My dad had a heart attack.”
Ethan swore under his breath.
“I know I should have left you a note, but I didn’t think about it until I was on the way home, and then it was too late. This is the first chance I’ve had to call.”
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