Under a Desert Sky

by DiAnn Mills

  Ahead I saw a cluster of dwellings that I’d learned from Brice were called hogans, and a few flat-roofed buildings. Some of the structures were constructed of adobe and others of wood, but all were six-sided and the doorways faced east. I craned my neck to see it all: the children kicking at the few inches of snow, dogs roaming about, people dressed in warm coats, and smoke curling up from the rooftops.

  Tahoma stopped the truck outside one of the small buildings. The sun was already setting, characteristic of this time of year.

  “This is your parents’ home,” I said. “I’ve thought of little else today but meeting them, and I’m nervous.”

  “They’ll make you feel comfortable.”

  I smiled, more to settle my nerves than agreeing with him. “If there is time tonight, would you show me your clinic?”

  “It’s not fancy.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not functional.”

  He glanced at me oddly, and my heart did a little flip. I was being incredibly candid with him, no pretense at all. Why should I put on a facade like a storefront when I felt the most contented when I could speak my mind?

  Victoria would be appalled, even furious. Yet everything I did of late would meet her disapproval, and my life in Syracuse seemed like another lifetime, another person.

  “Are you ready to meet my parents?”

  “Yes.” I drew in a sharp breath. “Is there anything I should remember to do or not do?”

  He smiled, and I noted how his entire face lit up. “You’ll be fine.”

  Tahoma opened the truck door for me, and I stepped out. A few children eyed me curiously, and I waved at them. A darling little girl with the biggest, darkest eyes I’d ever seen ran to give Tahoma a hug around his legs. He picked her up, spoke to her in their language, and set her back on the ground.

  I walked with him to an adobe-walled hogan, where a small, dark-haired woman stood outside the door.

  “You must be our guest.” She held her hands in front of her. “I’m Otekah. Tahoma is my son, and you must be Eva Fortier.”

  “Yes ma’am. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  Mrs. Benally reached out and took my hand, and instantly I felt welcomed. Tahoma opened the door. The smell of mutton reached my nostrils, and my stomach lunged. I did not care for lamb cooked in any fashion. Neither could I tolerate the smell. But I’d not say a word, and I’d eat every bite.

  Inside the shadowed dwelling, warm from a crackling fire, sat an older man whom I instantly recognized.

  “You,” I whispered. “I was not dreaming.”

  He laughed, a deep-throated sound that drew me to him. “Ah, Andrew Fortier’s daughter.”

  I nearly wept. “You knew my father? I mean, you had to know him. How? Where? When?”

  He continued to laugh, and I joined him. I slid into a chair beside him, leaving my manners by the wayside.

  “Eva, this is my father, Nascha Bennally,” Tahoma said.

  “Excuse my rudeness.” I stood. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

  “Let’s eat, and I will tell you everything,” Mr. Benally said. “Please join us at the table.”

  I’d gladly ingest a whole leg of lamb to hear one word about my father.

  All during supper, I answered questions about my current life, both in Syracuse and at Ghost Ranch. Mr. Benally inquired about the health of Mr. Murdock, and I assured him all was well. I regretted not having an opportunity to squeeze in a question about Mr. and Mrs. Benally’s lives.

  Finally we were finished, and it was only then that I realized I’d been given a measure of grace to endure the mutton. It had to be God, because I’d been known to be nauseated in the past at the mere mention of it.

  “I met your father in the Great War.” Mr. Benally picked up a pipe and lit it. The scent of the tobacco was not as pleasing as I remembered Grandfather’s choice, but I refused to complain. “We were both stationed in France, both young men ready to fight for our country.”

  I wondered why Father had never mentioned Mr. Benally, but he’d not talked much about the war. “I want to know everything,” I said. “If you don’t mind, and if it’s not too painful.”

  “Talking about Andrew could never be painful. He was a good man and a trusted friend.”

  I blinked back the tears. Father had died when I was eight, and my memories were all sweet and dear. But at times I feared I’d forgotten what he looked like. “My mother died when I was six, and I vaguely remember her features. Father spent many hours with me being both parents.”

  “He wrote me of his sadness when she died, and of his love for you. I never met your mother.”

  “As a little girl, I remember his tears.”

  “Those letters are here if you’d like to read them.”

  This time my tears flowed freely. “Yes, sir. I’d be honored to read them. Please tell me about the war and how you two became friends.”

  “All the soldiers were white, and they had no use for me. They didn’t think of me as an American, when my people were here first. Andrew was different. When the others mocked me, he stopped them. He even moved his bedroll and personal items next to me. We were friends throughout the war. We shared our lives and what we wanted to do after the fighting ended.”

  Pride in my father enveloped me, and I wished he would have told me about his relationship with Mr. Benally, even though I was just a child.

  “Twice during the war, we saved each other from death. I owed him, and he felt he owed me.” He paused, and I waited for him to continue. Perhaps he was remembering my father, and I’d not interrupt his memories. “Your father’s friendship was all I ever wanted. At the close of the war, we made a pact that we’d always come to the aid of the other. When Andrew returned home, he urged the government to pass laws to make our lives easier, and he worked for our good until he died.” He glanced up at Tahoma. “Andrew also set up a fund for Tahoma to go to school. Even as a boy, he talked of going to college to be a doctor.”

  Mr. Benally turned his attention back to me. “I had no idea of Andrew’s wealth. My gratitude knew no boundaries, but I was never able to repay him.”

  An inkling of why I’d been sent to Ghost Ranch crept across my mind. “Are you why I’m here?”

  “I am. Mr. Murdock contacted me when your grandfather was killed. He needed to make sure you would be protected. He also contacted Charlotte Arnold, and she agreed to have you stay at Ghost Ranch. I was to watch over you by day, and Pete Davidson by night.”

  “Was there ever another man who assisted you?”

  Mr. Benally frowned. “No. Why do you ask?”

  I hesitated to tell him about Walt, but he’d soothed an ache in my heart about Father. “I need to tell you something, and I don’t know if it’s connected to Grandfather’s killer or not.” I took a deep breath and revealed all that had taken place with Walt Chambers. “I told Pete Davidson and Charlotte about him too.”

  Mr. Benally stood and walked across the small room then turned to face me. “He lied. I stopped him from shooting you. I knifed him.”

  I gasped. “If I had not ended my nightly visits to him, he would have killed me.”

  “That’s right. And he may try again.”

  “I should resign from my position with the Monarchs,” I said. “I can’t put those boys in danger.”

  He made his way back to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. Immediately I felt his strength. How could this man have a weak heart? “Maybe your afternoon classes away from their home will have to end until this is finished.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “For everything. You were my father’s friend, and you’ve risked your life to keep me safe.”

  “I’ve always wanted to repay Andrew for all he did for me, my family, and my people. I’m honored to help Andrew’s daughter.”

  “And I am too,” Tahoma said.

  I glanced up at Tahoma, and his smile warmed my heart. Earlier in the day, I’d thought how incredibly handsome this young Navajo wa
s. I hoped I would have an opportunity to get to know him and his parents better.

  “If you don’t mind,” I said to Mr. Benally. “I’d like to hear more stories about my father and read his letters. If it’s not too much of an inconvenience, I’d like to come back sometime.”

  “We’d welcome you,” Mr. Benally said.

  “And I’d like to learn more about the Diné.”

  The older man gave me a smile that looked very much like Tahoma’s. “Your father was also interested in the ways of our people. You look like him.”

  A link to my past lived in this small home with this dear family. I’d treasure this meeting for as long as I lived.

  CHAPTER 21

  Tahoma unlocked the door to his humble clinic for Eva to take a tour. The evening had been long, but she’d indicated a desire to see where he practiced medicine. Uneasiness swept through him at her viewing his world. Her father had paid for his schooling and most of the equipment, and his heart was here among the bandages, sutures, medicine, instruments, and books.

  “Please stay in the doorway for a moment while I light the lantern. It’s right here on my desk,” he said. “I wouldn’t want you to fall.” He reached into his pocket for matches.

  “Guess I don’t need to close my eyes for a surprise.”

  He chuckled and struck the match on the bottom of his boot. He appreciated her sense of humor, and while he raised the lantern’s wick, he pondered on this trait, concluding her wit had seen her through a horrible ordeal.

  “I’ve got quite an assortment of items here for whatever ails a person. Any extra money, which isn’t much, goes for medicine and supplies. Most of my patients can’t afford to pay.”

  “What about electricity?”

  “Nice thought. But I don’t think we’ll have it here for quite a while.” He swung his attention back to her, but he resisted staring into her face. What she did to his pulse might require medication.

  “How sad, when you could make such progress with health advances.”

  “When electricity is available, a sterilizer for my instruments will be at the top of my list.”

  She slowly turned around as if scrutinizing every bottle, jar, and container. “Your clinic is spotless and so professional.” She touched his locked cabinet that stored regulated medicines. “This reminds me of my physician’s office at home. Dr. Benally, if I should become ill, I will certainly be knocking on your door.”

  “My equipment is a few years behind what you’d see in Syracuse, but it serves the purpose.”

  “How many patients do you see per day?”

  He refused to tell her the truth about how his people felt about him. “As you can see, there weren’t any today. The patient load varies, from my people here to the surrounding area.”

  She patted the examination table. “Do you perform any surgeries?”

  “I do. The room containing that equipment is in the back. Would you like to see it?”

  “Of course.”

  He grasped the lantern and led the way to the small room. “Only in a critical situation do I perform a surgery at night.”

  “That does sound challenging…and scary. But I would imagine not for you.”

  “Every surgery has the potential of ending a patient’s life. When the procedure is performed at night, I have lanterns and candles in every conceivable place.”

  He watched her again as she walked around the room, touching the white enameled metal table and cabinet. He’d splurged on this equipment, knowing how life-and-death situations often occurred in his remote location. They made their way back to his main office.

  “Would you like to sit down?” He gestured toward his two wooden patient chairs and a worn couch.

  “No, thank you. I want to explore.” She flipped through the anatomical chart.

  “Does your doctor at home allow you to investigate his office?”

  She flashed him a smile that caused his toes to tingle. This had to stop.

  “Not since I was a little girl. I was hoping you’d be more generous.”

  “I could offer my clinic as a field trip for your boys.”

  She clasped her hands like a child, and he enjoyed the image she projected. “That would be wonderful.”

  “Let me know the day and time, and I’ll be here.”

  “And I fully understand that you may have a clinic full of patients or be involved in an emergency.”

  He doubted the likelihood of either, but he wasn’t about to say so.

  Eva must have changed her mind, for she sat on a chair in the part of his office reserved for waiting patients.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “For keeping watch over me. For putting up with my ill temperament. For arranging the visit to your parents. And for allowing me to see your office.” She glanced about. “My father would have been very proud.”

  “I hope so. You’re quite welcome, but there’s no need to thank me. This is all a tribute to your father’s generosity.” He straddled a chair in front of her. In the dim light, her porcelain face and sun-dipped hair reminded him of an angel.

  She folded her hands in her lap, a gesture she probably learned in finishing school. “In the past two days, I’ve displayed deplorable manners.” She moistened her lips. “So accompanying my gratitude are my sincere apologies and my hope for a long and lasting friendship.”

  “Friends it is.”

  Her shoulders lowered slightly, and she tilted her head. “When I first came to the high desert, I feared I’d never make the adjustments to living here. But those at Ghost Ranch and now you and your parents have made me feel welcome and protected. At home, there were times people would want to befriend me because of my family’s wealth. Here no one seems to care, and the joy of that realization makes me feel very good.”

  “Adjustments can be difficult, and I’m glad yours have been easy.” He didn’t know what else to say, but he didn’t want their time together to end. “I well remember trying to fit into Chicago’s fast-paced lifestyle.”

  “How did you ever manage?”

  “Determination.”

  She nibbled on her lower lip while she stared at him, and he wished he had an X-ray that would let him read her mind.

  “I suppose I should ask you to take me home,” she finally said. “We both have full days tomorrow. You spend all of your daytime hours guarding me, and then I take up tonight’s hours as well.”

  “I don’t mind. But it is getting late.” He stood and reached for her hand. The moment he touched her, the electricity he so desperately needed for his clinic sparked from his fingertips.

  “You are very much a gentleman, Tahoma.”

  He laughed to conceal his nervousness. “I’ve been called many things, but a gentleman is not one of them. Do you have everything?”

  “All I brought in was myself, and that’s intact.”

  He wished he could say the same. “When I blow out the lantern, it will be black in here. I don’t want you to fall.” He guided her to the doorway, her hands, small and soft, resting in his. He regretted releasing her, but he must.

  The moment he blew out the lantern, tension rose between them stronger than the spark he’d noted earlier. He could think of little else other than the woman before him, whom he could not see, but only drink in her fragrance, light as rain, fresh as the morning dew.

  Shaking aside his preoccupation with a woman who would surely break his heart, Tahoma opened the door and allowed her to step out into the cold night air.

  Good. He needed a blast of iciness to bring him back to reality.

  Although I prided myself on an extensive vocabulary, all the way back to the ranch I fought for the right words to say to Tahoma. Something had happened while we were in his office, and I had difficulty describing it even to myself. We hadn’t touched, except when he helped me to my feet, but I felt as though we were closer than propriety would ever approve. Perhaps I needed time to ponder all that had h
appened in the past twenty-four hours—learning Tahoma guarded me from a potential killer, meeting his parents, learning how Nascha Benally and my father had been friends, finding out about the vow the two men had made, and how my father had financed Tahoma’s medical education.

  No wonder my mind spun like a child’s toy.

  But in my heart, I knew the overwhelming reaction to being alone with Tahoma in his office had me more perplexed than any of the other discoveries. Once in college, a young man and I formed a friendship of sorts. We enjoyed each other’s company and shared many of the same interests. Except that man had never affected me like Tahoma did tonight. When Victoria discovered the young man and I were keeping company, she lectured me for hours about how I was much too young to consider a gentleman’s company.

  This evening, while in Tahoma’s office, I thought I’d forgotten how to breathe. The sound of his voice gave me wonderfully pleasant and positively delightful shivers, and I hadn’t wanted to leave. There were certain behaviors that were not appropriate for a lady, and I was pondering many of them. I’d felt this awkwardness for some time, and I kept pushing my growing feelings aside. But how could I ignore my heart? Now I knew how Juliet felt when Romeo reached out to her. Would an affair of the heart with Tahoma end just as tragically?

  I glanced at him briefly as we bounced along toward the ranch. Darkness veiled the surrounding landscape, and yet I felt safe and protected. With a new burst of courage, I resolved to begin a conversation.

  “What do your parents’ names mean?”

  “Nascha means owl, and Otekah is sun maiden.”

  “They fit your parents well. And your name?”

  “Water edge.”

  I thought about “water edge” for several moments. “I like what your name signifies. I can see you standing on a riverbank, as though waiting for a reason to step in.”

  He didn’t look my way. “That probably is closer to the truth than what you can imagine.”