by Bella Knight
The whiskey bottle went around, and they sang until deep in the night.
There was some screaming due to nightmares, and soldiers who couldn't sleep, who stayed up all night talking. Numa stayed up with them, and taught them carding and spinning to give them something to do with their hands. David taught them to tie fly fishing lures, and they spent time in the early hours between moonset and dawn catching fish. No one commented on the screaming, or worried about the non-sleepers. They just gave an ear, or a beer, or a task. Some soldiers couldn't drink, either because they were in recovery, or because they had PTSD, or were on other medications. No one forced alcohol on them, and someone was always handing them water or sodas.
They swung back to Navajo territory, and David took them all on a sweat, Numa taking charge of the females. They sweated, sang, and had a great feast afterward. That seemed to take the starch out of the more rigid ones, allowing them to unbend. Two of them started sleeping much better.
Numa and the blind Maia stopped to learn about Navajo weaving, and they were treated to a tour. They bought silver jewelry, and David loaded up on semiprecious stones for his beadwork. Every night he worked on a piece, a necklace, or breastplate, or vest. They went to a large celebration, and ate like kings and queens. The Wolfpack was made much over, and they went home with gifts of beadwork and sacks of wool.
They swung back, taking over entire coffee shops for lunch, cracking obscene jokes, and using rough language that they toned down whenever they saw kids in the shops. They made it to Lake Mead. Some stopped to camp; others went back to work, school, or both. The campers ran in and out of the ice-cold lake, barbecued every night, sang songs, danced by firelight. Couples paired off, and some tents were put up far from the other ones to keep the sounds from traveling too far.
On the last night, they roasted marshmallows and made s'mores and plans. The vets were at their own fire, trading stories. "We've got to cycle people out to jobs," said Bonnie. "They're scarce on the ground, though."
Herja agreed. "I'll employ those I can. I can't keep six women, no matter how much I may want to. Where the fuck are we going to send them all?"
"We've got funds," said Fire of the Iron Knights. "Why don't we open up small shops in some of these small towns we drove through? Lots of empty buildings. Small-town life is good, and quiet. Still close enough to get to us, and far enough out to be on their own. Settle two or three, one of us can go for a while to help them out. Can sell reconditioned bikes online, and fix bikes in the towns too. Take on more vets when they're ready."
"I'll do their books for free," said Lily. "Run the fund, distribute the money."
"They'll need online business classes," said Ajai. "We can get some GI bill and scholarship money for them, but they'll need fees and such, too."
"We can set it up," said Henry. "Get it going. Start a foundation."
"They can do it back home, too, Idaho and Indiana, and Alabama. Get set up where they want," said Herja. "Wherever there are Valkyries, we will help."
"Lots of expensive equipment," said Fire.
"Looks like we need a rally," said Herja. They all laughed, and began planning the summer rally to raise funds.
Meanwhile, there was a big honking house to move from a tract of land that would be a wildlife corridor, allowing animals to travel both over and under, in various places. Going several highways through or next to state parks, and buying land to ensure the animals --moose, lynx, bears, bobcats, deer, elk, badgers, and more, could pass through, unmolested. A nice older house sat square in the middle of where they wanted to put the corridor. The fun part was getting the local planning departments in both northern Arizona, where the house was located, and the county. They needed the transportation departments in both states to agree to the house move. The International Association of Structural Movers handled that frustrating process, and helped them choose an excellent mover, named Sealo and Sons.
The structural movers first mapped the route, and planned to deliver it in the middle of the night so as to avoid any Las Vegas traffic. They disconnected the utilities, dug around the foundation, inserted steel beams under the house, raised the house using a unified hydraulic jacking system, slid more beams underneath, then put the house on rubber-tired dollies. A slow truck moved the house forward. Henry and David went down to see the process, partly because they'd been there at the barn raising, and partly because the Hualapai and Havasupai reservations were nearby. In fact, a quarter of the workers moving the house were from the reservations. The house was a good size, but not too big, four bedrooms and two and a half baths, all on two stories. They were slow, very slow, at every step. Henry and David both saw deer watching them.
"Looks like the wildlife corridor is needed," Henry said, pointing at a doe and a fawn.
"Absolutely," said David. "It saves the animals, and the cars, too. Did you know there's actually an island with crab crossings?"
Henry smiled. "Do you really want to mix it up with thousands of crabs?" he said, making pincers out of his hands.
"Not I," said David. "I think it's an excellent idea. And, we get a good house for Ivy and Callie, and Bao and the little ones out of it."
"We live a crowded life," said Henry, watching the deer bound away at the sound of the jacks. "Do you miss having less people?"
David smiled. "You mean, rattling around that big house without the Wolfpack? Not having half a dozen teenagers trying to steal the last of the biscuits? Not having a herd of people who help cook and clean? I don't think the ranch has been that clean in decades."
Henry snorted, and took David's hand. "We have the biggest family."
David's phone buzzed. He pulled it out of the pocket of his jeans. "The Council wants to meet. They say they have a favor to ask."
"Hualapai or Havasupai?" They had met with both, and visited families in their houses. Both tribes were quite interested in Henry's ranch and how it worked.
"Havasupai," said David. "They want to meet at a coffee shop just down the road."
"I could eat," said Henry.
David laughed. "You are always ready to eat." They headed for their truck.
They had dinner with several tribal elders. They discussed the land, the wildlife corridor, the spirit of saving animals, and about retaining tribal languages.
"We've got two hundred and fifty speakers," said Wa Asitam. His name literally meant "one." He'd gotten his joke name by always having only one dollar in his pocket and asking his friends to spot him some cash when he was a teenager. "Bao and Chayton's programs, and Vu's attempts to help tribal peoples have been... beyond priceless." Everyone sat a moment as the old man recovered himself.
"You know we send our kids out at ninth grade," said Sarai, also on the council. "They are old enough to see the ways of the white man without being unduly influenced. We have two that need emergency help. Nick and Josh are smart, and so far past the school we will send them to, that they will lose all their forward momentum. The boarding schools are expensive, and their father was killed by a white man driving drunk. We thought of you." She tilted her head at two string-bean who boys devouring a hot fudge sundae at the counter.
"We may have to string hammocks," said Henry. "We have twelve Wolfpack in residence now, as well as Nantan and Chayton's boys, Nico and Tam."
"Put them in with the horses," said Wa Asitam. "They will spend every minute they are not studying, with them. I also hear you have rabbits."
"Angora," said Henry. "They have their own rabbit condo. Their fur is soft and collected by brushing them. My sister sells angora sweaters and scarves made by people on the res, and by our own Wolfpack." He smiled. "Do the boys make baskets?"
Wa Asitam smiled. "No. Sadly not. Their mother does not have the talent. She loves horses, and keeps them for the tourists. She would love for her sons to learn, and to use the money to make a ranch like yours. Money that would have been spent on a boarding school."
David smiled at the boys, mock-fighting over the last few b
ites of ice cream. "We will find room," he said. Henry said nothing. David had spoken.
The boys were brought over and introduced. Josh was tall and reedy, but his brother Nick was even taller, with silver rings in each ear. Henry brought them to the convenience store across the parking lot, because he knew they would be hungry in an hour. He gave them each ten dollars.
"Pick what you want," he said.
"Where are we going to put you?" asked David.
Nick said, "A sleeping bag is fine."
"I'll sleep with the horses," said Josh. "We do sometimes, anyway."
David smiled. "We can do better than that. You and your brother Josh are headed into the most crowded house you've ever seen. We got teens in one house, oldsters to babies with us..."
Henry smiled. "Storage room off the main sorting room. About the size of a regular bedroom. Even has a window. I'll text the Wolfpack to get everything out of there, and into storage under the sorting tables. I'll also ask Callie to build these boys some pods."
The boys loved watching the house move. Henry and David said goodbye to Tomas, the foreman, and they took the boys back to the ranch the faster way. It was four more days until the house arrived to be settled on its foundation. Within a week it was done, with pods and all.
Bella and Inola arrived first for lunch. They ordered breadsticks, salad with three kinds of dressing on the side, and bowls of corn tortilla soup and clam chowder, while Ryder slept in her stroller. Ivy and Callie had Aiden and Kiya strapped to their bodies. Bella took Aiden, and Inola took Kiya, while Ivy and Callie squealed over baby Ryder. Katya's babies were fat, happy, and content to sit in their high chairs after being passed around, eating Cheerios cereal.
Bella shook her hands out. "Never thought I'd be doing book covers for Westerns, but the landscape outside my window looks very OK-Corral-ish. Giving my fingers cramps, though."
Lily fed Aiden, who had woken up. "I've taken on so many clients I took on an assistant who is also a CPA. Thank god, or I'd be even more exhausted by now."
Katya laughed. "Gregory is such good husband, no? When he is home, he barely lets me hold his boys. He is a proud papa."
"How are our two rascals in Arizona?" asked Ivy, digging into her salad.
"Kieran and Pavel are sad," said Lily. "They finished the training for the first dogs. It went so well! The dogs went to children. The animals are very happy. But, it is hard to train an animal and send them to live somewhere else."
"Didn't they get more of them?" asked Bella, then grabbed a breadstick before the she-wolves at the table got them all.
"Yes," said Lily. "Of course. They love them all. My boys love and love. They get excellent grades as well, because the other students have invested in their business and help train them. They even get vacations!" She smiled. "They work at the local vet. They are getting vet tech certificates along with their business degrees. They have good business sense."
"And one that helps families dealing with autism, anxiety disorders, and the like," said Callie. "If kids who have trouble reading aloud read to dogs, they improve rapidly."
"Some dogs can sniff out seizures," said Ivy. "I asked Keiran about it, and he says two of their dogs do that."
"I believe it," said Inola. "Bess, our Corgi, watches the baby. She knows when Ryder is going to wake up before we do."
"Keiran has a trust, but the boys will pay for their college with the dogs," said Lily, proudly. "And I'm so busy! Ghost has me doing her books. She just got another contract to make miniatures for Harley-Davidson. Willow and Ajai had to recruit more Wolfpack members to help with pouring molds for the miniatures. I do the books for that business, too. If I get any more Nighthawks business, I won't get any sleep!"
Callie pointed a breadstick at Katya. "Your daughter Elena is giving me fits. I finally found a gifted program that will work for her. I'm considering putting Hu in it, but Grace doesn't test out as gifted."
"Put her in it," said Ivy. "Tell her she is gifted. She'll rise to the occasion."
"I don't want to overwhelm her," said Callie. "She's just not as quick-minded as Hu. She gets to the same place, but a little slower."
"Have them take different classes," suggested Inola. "That way, they're not in competition with each other. Or, give them the same ones, and have Hu help Grace."
Ivy snorted. "Way to contradict yourself," she said. She grabbed a spoon and ate her soup.
"They take the same classes, except the one they love, like art or music," said Bella. "Gotta do something different so they're not clones."
"Hu's a violinist, and Grace plays keyboard," said Ivy. "Lots of fun at one in the morning."
"Actually, it kind of is. They're learning 'The Devil Went Down to Georgia,'” said Callie, spooning herself more soup.
"You're kidding," said Bella. "That's freaking amazing."
Ivy laughed. "I think that's the first time I've heard you say 'freaking.'"
Katya laughed so hard she nearly blew her tea out her nose. "My Gregory has same problem."
"Gregory?" asked Ivy and Inola simultaneously. "He's the most respectful guy I know," finished Inola.
Ivy smiled. "No, Henry. Or maybe David."
"Keiran and Pavel," said Bella. "They wait on us hand and foot. Love those boys."
"I agree," said Callie. "I hope our kids will turn out as intelligent, hard-working, and respectful as those beautiful boys."
Lily beamed. "I'll tell Ace you said this. He will explode with pride."
Inola looked down at the baby in her arms. "We're all proud," she said. Bella reached out and held her hand.
"I think I want another one," said Bella, into the silence, around the tears in Inola's voice.
The other women gasped or cheered, startling the babies, making two of them cry. Ivy took Aiden out of his stroller, and rocked him, and Inola rocked Ryder. Ivy sang Rockabye, and Callie did the counterpart. They all smiled. People at adjoining tables took photos and video. She sang a very soft Brahm's Lullaby. The awake babies looked at her, round-eyed, and the sleepy ones drifted off.
"Omigod," said Bella, into the silence. "You can come over and sing Ryder to sleep anytime."
A mother came up, child in her arms, asleep. She whispered, "Jackie hasn't slept in two days. Thank you." She crept out of the restaurant.
Bella stared at Ivy, wide-eyed. "You're the baby whisperer," she said.
"Wait," said Callie. "You want another baby?"
Inola held Bella's hand. "I was a bit surprised, but now I'm ready too."
"Who's the daddy?" asked Callie.
"Nantan," said Bella.
They all hissed or cried out in shock. The babies woke up again, and Ivy sang the Uncle Kracker song, Follow Me. Mothers unobtrusively sidled over with fussy babies, and they soon quieted. A fussy toddler wouldn't settle down at a nearby table, and Ivy sang John Meyer's Daughters. The other women at the table hummed it, and Inola joined in, adding a deep thrum to the song. The toddler, mashing his fists into his eyes to stay awake, finally quieted.
You could hear a pin drop in the restaurant. A few people were actually crying. "Good god," said Bella. "Bottle that, please!"
They finished their soup, salad, and breadsticks. The manager came over. "Ladies, I never expected a concert when I came to work today. Your desserts are on us."
"Thank you," said Katya. "I will have the cherry cheesecake." They all got variations on cheesecake, with chocolate, peanut butter, caramel, and fruit versions. They passed around the babies that were awake, and let the sleeping ones lay to rest.
"We have a problem," said Bella. "We can't leave the baby whisperer."
"Let's go to our place," said Ivy. "Bao has Hu and Grace. And Elena, it's a play date."
So, they went to Ivy and Callie's place. The babies got naps, and the women got adult conversation and relaxation. Gregory found out what was going on from his wife, and he sent over some Wolfpack members to babysit, and they moved to Katya's place to have some adult beverages, a beaut
iful gourmet dinner Gregory sent over, steak, potatoes, salad, rolls, butter, and tiny chocolate mousse and key lime squares. He also sent over six Thai women to do manicures, pedicures, and massages. The women left with huge tips that nearly matched the bill Gregory paid in advance.
David and Henry arrived when they got home. "Give us our grandchildren, and no one gets hurt," said David. Callie and Ivy laughed.
Ivy put Daisy's leash on her, and took her for a pre-ride walk. Callie watched while Aiden decided to pee in a golden rainbow while David changed him. She took Aiden, then David changed Kiya. They went in a procession to the truck, a copper-colored king cab.
"Got it used," said David. "Too many teens and babies and stuff to transport."
They put the babies in the car seats, got them in the harnesses, and climbed in. Ivy came back with the Dachshund, who hooked into a dog seat belt that attached to her harness. She sat, and kissed Kiya, making the baby laugh. Each mom kissed each child, then took turns hugging David and Henry.
They waved goodbye, arm in arm. Ivy took Callie's hand, and Callie giggled evilly. "No babies."
"No little girls," said Ivy. Damia was content sleeping in the big house, going out with Inola to take care of the ponies every morning.
"Hotel time!" said Callie. They ran inside, grabbed their go-bags, stuffed their saddlebags, and took off.
The hotel was nice; swanky, a smaller boutique hotel in Boulder City. They checked in, then rode down to the lake and drank coffee goodness at a small cafe built on stilts over the lake. They laughed, relaxing. They ordered a plate of chocolates, and then they rode back to the hotel. Callie undressed Ivy, slowly. She propped her up on pillows, then rubbed her feet. Ivy rolled her eyes back in her head. She looked up, and burst out laughing. Callie looked up and gaped. There were prisms and glass balls hanging from the mirrored ceiling, casting rainbows.
