At first it seemed odd, sad, difficult to be in the Plant Tender’s house without her there. But by the time Ben had directed her around with his words instead of his eyes, Tory started feeling right at home.
Ben apparently couldn’t wait to get away from there because he’d called Hunter to come pick him up almost as soon as they’d walked in the door. She knew how he felt. It was too difficult for them to remain this close.
Last night…after the battle, several of the participants had had wounds to be tended. Her own small nicks and scrapes were minor and she’d pitched in to suture others and apply the right plant remedies.
But when it came to her injuries, Ben had refused to let anyone else touch her. Having him salve and bind her wounds caused her much more pain than the actual cuts had done. It took a lot out of her to be that close, to hear him breathing, to feel his heart beating so near to her own.
But on a practical note, no one had needed a hospital. No one had wanted to call the tribal police, either. The Brotherhood took care of each other, buried their enemies and then buried their own.
Tory assumed someone in the Brotherhood would have a way to let outsiders know of the demise of Dr. Hardeen, without actually having to explain the cause. There seemed to be a member of the Brotherhood involved in every aspect of Navajo life.
After Ben had gone away with Hunter, leaving her alone at the Plant Tender’s house, Tory thought about all that had taken place. She’d been wrong about so many things.
Perhaps she would even someday apologize to Russel for misjudging his intentions. As she thought back on it now, he had clearly tried to warn her of the danger.
She’d also been wrong to think she could ever walk away from the Dine. Shirley had tried to make it clear, to let her see the duty she had yet to fulfill. It had taken the Plant Tender’s death to make Tory a real believer.
So she would be staying for good. Perhaps right here, living in the old Plant Tender’s house. And she would learn new remedies, assist the hataaliis, and maybe practice a little Anglo medicine from time to time when it was appropriate. She would become the new spinster Plant Tender, living alone and working for the good of the Dine.
Ben still thought she was leaving, and she’d decided the time was not right to tell him any different. But it made her angry that he thought so little of her.
There would be no way for him to guess she had already decided to stay on the rez—no matter what else happened. It wasn’t something she wanted to discuss with him yet, either. He wouldn’t understand her reasons and would be concerned about her welfare. Not to mention she couldn’t bear to hear him tell her once again there was no chance for their future together.
But how could he imagine she would leave when there was any chance at all of helping him to see again?
She went down the hall and opened a side door, thinking it might be the bathroom. Instead she found a room full of files and papers, which was strange for a traditional Navajo home. The Navajo language had only recently been written down and few books had so far been published. Yet stacks of books lined the walls, and there were sticky notes on every other surface.
One clean surface remained on the desk. And right in the middle was a huge manila envelope addressed to her.
Tory plopped down in the swivel chair and gingerly picked up the envelope. She could feel Shirley’s presence, not only remaining on the envelope, but everywhere around her. A sheen of wetness blurred Tory’s eyes, but she fought it off. No sense crying when there was work to be done. Or some message Shirley Nez had been trying to send.
Spilling the contents of the envelope out onto the desk, Tory was most surprised to find a smaller envelope with Ben’s name on it in a writing very different from Shirley Nez’s. She set that aside and opened a sheet of paper that had her own name written on the back.
Dear new Plant Tender: If you are reading this it is because my earthly body has gone on to be with the Yei. I’m sorry to leave you before your training was completed. But continue your learning without me. I bequeath to your care this house, all maps and all lists of remedies within.
Plant Tenders traditionally do not require books or maps to know the cures. But you will be different. You have begun differently, yet I have seen that you will be the greatest Plant Tender of all time. My spirit remains nearby to help you find your way.
Please look at the two small maps I am including in this envelope. I didn’t have the time to search, but I believe these to be the best places of finding the skunk-smelling raggedy goat sage. Use your senses to locate it. The name has meaning.
The envelope enclosed with Ben Wauneka’s name on it is a letter from his mother. She was my best friend and gave me this for safekeeping right before she died. Her instructions were to give it to him “after his period of blindness and while he was still keeping the blindfold around his heart.” I never knew what she’d meant by that strange statement until the doctor fell ill and began fighting his better judgment.
I entrust you now with the fulfillment of my duty. Let your heart tell you when the time is right.
The soft sob escaped Tory’s lips before she could call it back. Her new responsibility, the old familiarity of lonely duty. All of that conspired to break her down. But she never cried.
So she sniffed back dry tears and set about studying the maps Shirley had left. Somewhere in Dinetah grew the cure for Ben’s blindness. At least, the thing that would make him see again. The blindfold on his heart was another matter entirely, and not in her power to cure.
Ben sat uneasily in the swing, listening to the sound of a truck engine as it labored up the grade toward his home. It was a hot summer afternoon and he had nothing to do but sit in the shade and listen to the birds as cousin Issy, overweight but affable, worked in his garden.
He had shut down his practice for good, but couldn’t bear to ignore the garden. The garden Tory had so loved.
In a way, he hated sitting in this swing. Hated the memories of a special dawn when all his problems could be solved by the passionate touches of the woman who’d meant so much. But then again, being here put him nearer to the earth and the plants, reminding him only of the goodness.
He hadn’t spoken to Tory in a couple of days. He’d received word that she was fine. Though she didn’t appear to be making progress toward leaving the reservation, and it made him wonder what she was waiting for.
Listening to Issy pull weeds and water, Ben let his mind drift away to happier days. Soft breezes sighed through the trees. The smell of cedar and the sounds of the Bird Clan circling overhead conspired to make him miserable. He should never have let Tory get under his skin like this.
Being completely blind was bad enough. Being alone now was a much more horrible fate. He had too much time on his hands to think of how close to losing her life she’d been that afternoon with the Raven.
The truck, not one he recognized but also not one he thought of as dangerous, pulled in front of the house and the engine was turned off. As prescribed by Dine tradition, the driver did not immediately get out but waited a decent interval to be acknowledged.
“Issy, please wave in our visitor. I’m willing to have company.” And he would thank the Yei for giving him something else to do but feel sorry for himself.
“It is our cousin, Michael Ayze, born to the Big Medicine People, for the Salt Clan,” Issy informed him. “He is alone. I’ll bring him to you.”
After all the usual Navajo greetings, Michael got right to the point. “Everything is ready for your curing sing, cousin. I’ll drive you to the ceremony after we visit my sweat hogan first. Your days of darkness are at an end.”
“What?” Almost nothing his cousin had said was making any sense—except—“What cure are you talking about?”
“The new Plant Tender has uncovered the skunk-smelling raggedy goat sage. She is preparing it as she was instructed.” Michael’s tone stopped being so formal and took on a conspiratorial note. “Come on, cuz. You really don’t have
much choice. No one is willing to say no to your woman when she makes up her mind. Now take my arm. You’re supposed to be getting ready. So we’re outta here.”
An hour or so later, Ben sat alone in the sweat hogan and…well…sweated was a good word for it. Willing or not, Michael had dragged him into the pickup, and then a short while later shoved him into the hogan designed specifically to help prepare for ceremonial sings. The smells of sacred plants put into the smoldering fire and the hissing sounds of water on hot coals seemed hypnotic.
Several things Michael said had been rumbling through Ben’s mind and now were screaming at him to listen. The new Plant Tender. Your woman. What the hell did that mean?
“Open your heart, Ben Wauneka. Open your heart before you open your eyes.”
“Shirley Nez?” He recognized the voice but it was impossible. Or…maybe not.
“You are the heart of the Brotherhood,” her spirit told him out of his darkness. “Yet you continue to keep your own in a shell. She is more a part of the Dine today than you are. But what is it you most desire?”
That question took him back. Ben had no answer, but thought he should. Obviously, he wanted to see again. But see what? And more importantly, why?
Twenty hours after they had begun the ceremony, Tory watched as Michael Ayze finally washed the curing potion off of Ben’s eyelids and temples. This was the moment of truth.
The other members of the Brotherhood were staying back, out by the bonfire with the rest of the clan members who’d come to the curing ceremony. They had all participated in some way over the course of the long day. And she knew all of them were holding their breaths, waiting for the good result their traditions told them to expect.
She was having a bit more trouble being so positive that the cure would work. But Tory did have the letter from Ben’s mother safely tucked into her pocket. That must count for something. She had to believe the news would be good or she wouldn’t have brought along something he would have to use his eyes to read. Right?
“Okay, Wauneka,” Michael said quietly. “This is it. Open your eyes and tell me what you see.”
Watching while Ben worked his granite jaw and blinked, Tory bounced on the balls of her feet and let the tension rule. There was still daylight left; mostly it was just the crimson-and-gold rays of waning sun filling the sky with a rosy hue. But if he could see anything…
Suddenly panic struck, not knowing what he would want as his first sight, Tory turned her back and held her breath. Afraid to run. Afraid not to.
Slowly, too slowly in Ben’s opinion, the yellow haze that had replaced the blackness began to be replaced itself by objects, images. People.
“Tory?” The first clear thing he saw was her cornsilk hair. It was still one of the top two sights in the world as far as he was concerned. But the other one was much more important to him at the moment.
“Tory,” he whispered, praying she would turn around.
She did, again too slowly for him. But she could barely manage to make eye contact. And he willed her to.
If you care about me at all, my love, turn those gorgeous blue-grays my way and look at me now.
Lifting her eyelids, she gazed at him with an expression like he had never seen before. It knocked him to his knees and filled his newly clear eyes with tears. He choked back a sob, reached out for her.
She rushed into his arms, fell to her own knees and plastered his face with kisses. “You can see. Oh, thank God. It’s worked. Are you okay?”
He gathered her to him, putting every sense to work in the awareness of holding her close. The sweet scent. The silken feel of hair against his neck. The sound of raspy breathing and the soft moans in the back of her throat.
But nothing compared to the moment when he lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. Just to see those beautiful eyes glowing with love and spilling over with tears.
Reaching out, he used the pad of his thumb to brush back the tears. “I love you so much,” he managed to say through a rasp of his own. “And yes, I can see. But I don’t want to see anything if it doesn’t include you.
“We fit, my love,” he added. “I see that clearly now. And I swear on my clan that I will never be far out of sight of you again. Blind or clear. Stay in Dinetah or go. Only please let me be beside you. Now. Forever.”
Overcome with the spent tension and breathless emotion, Tory nodded. His mouth covered hers, settled, while their lips melded together in the way their lives always would.
In the back of her mind, she was amazed at all her tears. Tears of relief. Tears of joy. Tears full of the promise of being one with the only man she would ever love.
She had a gut feeling that the Dine’s new Plant Tender was going to become a weeper. Soggy, but worth it.
Looking up into the warm brown eyes she so loved, Tory decided yes. Yes, her life from now on was definitely going to be worth every watery drop.
Epilogue
D r. Victoria Sommer became Mrs. Ben Wauneka, of the Big Medicine People for the Many Hogans Clan, on the first day of August. They were married in the last of the hazy amber sunshine, glowing ripe against the vivid blue-sky background of his high mesa home and amid the lush green splashes of their garden.
The swing had been taken down temporarily to make way for a traditional religious hogan under the cottonwood. And the smoky streaks of silver-tipped clouds promised a spectacular sunset to come.
Hundreds of family members were in attendance, all with some combination of cinnamon- and copper-colored skin. There were no other blondes here in this sacred place. And the bride decided she wasn’t bothered by that at all.
“Did you ever get a chance to read your mother’s letter?” she asked her new husband, who was standing with an arm draped around her shoulders—keeping her close, as he’d promised to do.
He nodded. “She didn’t have anything to say I hadn’t already figured out. Just wish I wouldn’t have wasted so much time in the dark about it.”
They both chuckled, a subtle joke between them. Tory was curious about his mother’s letter. But she wouldn’t ask. They fit together so well she didn’t have to. Her lover just knew what she wanted. Now and always.
“She reminded me of an old Dine legend,” he began. “The one where a stranger comes to the sacred land between the four mountains, but the People refuse to accept him and send him away. Then a black plague enters Dinetah and the stranger comes back, bringing a curing plant with him. He saves the Dine and becomes one with them. Forevermore he is known as the Plant Tender. The first one of his kind.”
Ben leaned in and placed a soft kiss against her temple. “My mother’s letter went on to say she’d had a vision. That one day a new Plant Tender would come to Dinetah and that I should not let her be sent away. Instead, it would be my lifelong duty to shelter and protect her as she becomes the greatest of all the Plant Tenders.”
“She did not.” Tory chuckled at the notion.
“Stranger things have taken place here in your new home, Plant Tender, my love.”
They came together then, standing arm in arm and staring out across the vast lands and spiky orange cliffs they both loved. Continuing to gaze upon their precious world, they watched as the evening stars came out and as the Bird Clan began circling back to their rocky mesa nests to stand guard for the night.
Off at the edge of the celebration, Hunter Long watched, too, smiling inside at the sound of his friends’ good humor. He’d seen the coyote sneaking around on the edges of the treeline a while ago, and wondered briefly who he had come to warn.
But as the tinkling of his hosts’ laughter filled the crisp night air with the sounds of home and family, Hunter knew it could not possibly be a warning meant for them. They had all the noisy protection of their love for shelter.
And what a sound that was, too. Hunter figured it might be just as spectacular a sound as the pounding drumbeats of spirit-happiness he’d heard earlier, and knew had to be coming from the chest of the Heart of the Broth
erhood.
At last, the Heart had found his heart.
With that warm thought, and even as the dangerous dark night dipped low across the mesa and the coyote still lingered nearby, Hunter Long also managed to laugh.
SRS 1450 Shadow Hunter (01-2007)
Summary
Navajo Tribal Special Investigator Hunter Long couldn't believe the news. Spoiled beauty Bailey Howard, abducted with a baby? Well, the woman who'd caused him no end of heartache wouldn't be in danger for long. Hunter was the best tracker on the reservation--he'd save them both. Without letting Bailey get under his skin again.
But rescuing both at once became impossible. For the kidnappers belonged to a group of mystical and deadly shape-shifters, and even Hunter couldn't easily escape them. Together, they might stand a chance--if he could resist the force of this new Bailey, no longer spoiled heiress, but all woman….
ISBN: 978-1-55254-824-0
SHADOW HUNTER
Copyright © 2007 by Linda Lucas Sankpill
To John Fowler, who graciously allowed the rest of us to sleep easier. We’re so grateful to have you in the family.
We love you, John!
Dear Reader,
The Navajo people have a rich tradition of legend and storytelling. I have taken the liberty of using some of their grand traditions as a base for making up my own legends. Much of what you read in this series is as it has been told to me. The rest is from my imagination. The People call their philosophy, “Walking in Beauty.” Walk in beauty with Hunter and Bailey as they find lost loves…and the truth that lies within them.
Some readers may need a refresher on Dine words, so here is a short vocabulary list:
Dine
The Navajo—also known as The People
Dinetah
The land between the four “sacred” mountains where legend says the Dine began and where many of them now live (the “four corners” Big reservation that encompasses parts of Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah)
Books by Linda Conrad Page 55
