by Aimée Thurlo
“Could you call them?” she asked. “It might speed things up a little.”
“Most of them live in rural areas where phone service is spotty at best, but I can leave word at the trading posts and eventually the message will reach them.”
As they talked, Bear brought Myka an old tennis ball and dropped it by her feet.
“This guy’s been so good this morning. Would you mind going out back with me so I can throw the ball for him?”
“Let’s do it,” he said. He followed her outside and they walked to a place away from the sheep.
Although she tried pitching, she wasn’t very good at it, and the ball never went far. Bear caught up to it easily and immediately brought it back. “He needs more exercise. Can you throw it for him?” She handed Joshua the ball.
He pitched it across the yard in a high arc and it traveled at least three times the distance it had for her. Bear lumbered after it, clomping along like a horse then scooping it up.
“Nice throw! Can you do that a few more times? He’ll love it.”
Bear trotted back proudly, the ball clenched in his mouth.
“No problem,” he said and after Bear dropped the ball in front of him, he threw it again. “Myka, I hope you don’t mind my saying this, but you look exhausted. I’ve seen your lights on long after midnight. Have you been getting enough sleep?”
She shrugged. “I wake up at two or three in the morning, then start thinking about what needs to be done. It’s hard to roll over and go back to sleep after that.”
“I put in eighteen-hour days or longer when we first opened our firm. After a while exhaustion took its toll and I started making mistakes. One might have proven to be a disaster if it hadn’t been caught.”
“You think I’ll do that, too?” she asked, now worried.
“You’re overworked and you’re human. I don’t want to scare you, Myka, but you need to stay sharp and that requires sleep.”
This time, instead of bringing the ball to Josh, Bear raced past both of them and went directly to the back door.
“Okay, he’s had enough,” Myka said, going inside.
A moment later, Bear sprawled on the cool tiles in the kitchen and began to gnaw on his bone.
“I’m glad he likes my present,” Joshua said.
“Are you kidding? He loves it. He carries that bone everywhere.” She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts, then continued. “Before we go on, I need to apologize to you, Joshua. Last time you were here we had a problem. Too much was coming at me at once. I’m not just running Myka’s Wooly Dreams anymore, and sometimes I forget that.”
“It might help to come up with a new company name,” he said. “Also, try looking at what you do in a different light. It isn’t just a business. You’re producing things that bring a touch of beauty into people’s lives.”
“Broaden my outlook,” she said with a nod. “Is that what you did?”
“Yeah. I never saw my work as just designing buildings to suit a client. To me, it was about creating spaces people could call home, or buildings that became the heart of a growing business. Each design had to speak to the owners in a special way. Once you shift your focus, things fall more naturally into place.”
She sighed. “See that? That’s exactly what makes it so darned hard to work with you,” she muttered.
“What do you mean?” he asked, surprised.
“It’s way too easy to come to you for answers,” she said softly. “The problem is your own future will take you away from here all too soon. I can’t get used to having you around.”
“Then let me set your mind at ease. You have my word that I won’t go anywhere until after Christmas.”
“You can’t promise that, Joshua. Christmas is almost two months away. What if the perfect job comes along next month—or next week?”
He shook his head. “There’s no such thing, Myka. ‘Perfect’ was owning my own company. What I’m doing now is searching for a job that’ll allow me to recoup financially. I need to start saving so that eventually I can reach my goal again. The problem is that the industry has slowed almost to a standstill. I’ve sent out dozens of applications and made a lot of calls, but very few firms are hiring right now.”
Remembering Robyn’s frustrating job search, she nodded. Myka took a doughnut from the box he’d brought and offered him another. “Is living here as hard for you as it used to be?”
He stood by the window, looking back at his father’s house. “There was a time when this place seemed like a giant black hole, one that sucked up dreams and squashed them out of existence. Dad moved through each day just getting by. I wanted...more.”
Joshua lapsed into a long silence, and she came up from behind and silently placed her hand on his arm.
He turned to face her. “I reached my dream once, and I can do it again, but this pause is useful. It gives me time to reassess what I want and where I’m headed. What’s even better is that right now I’m needed here, and I’m spending my time doing something that matters.”
“Our company does need you, Joshua,” she said, then smiled slowly. “Of course it would also help a lot if I could learn to accept advice gracefully.”
He laughed. “Yeah, there’s that, but don’t worry. I may come on strong sometimes, but I’ll still have your back. You can trust me.”
He brushed a gentle kiss on her forehead, but as the warmth of his body touched hers, other feelings stirred to life inside her.
“We’ll look out for each other, Joshua,” she said, and walked him to the door.
Myka stayed by the window and watched Joshua head home. Determination defined his long-legged strides. After he disappeared from view, she walked down the hall to her office.
Halfway there, she tripped over some boxes. Myka yelped, but managed to catch herself before hitting the floor.
An office...a real one somewhere away from home...was that even possible? She needed to look at the spreadsheet and see where they stood financially. That start-up loan Joshua had mentioned was looking more attractive by the minute. Office space would mean she could restore order to her parents’ home. If her mom could see the place now, she’d swear Myka had lost her mind.
She had to stop letting fear hold her back. It was time to move forward.
CHAPTER NINE
WORK SEEMED NEVER ending, and the weeks passed, ushering in November. Taking a break and sitting back in her chair, Myka suddenly realized that, with the exception of throwing the ball for Bear and having an occasional cup of coffee with Robyn or Sophie, she hadn’t done anything fun in ages.
She stared at the pile of paperwork on her desk. More crafters had joined their LLC since Joshua had helped her file the articles of organization and operating agreement with the state. They were forty-two members strong now. In the spirit of renewal, she and Robyn had come up with a list of possible company names, and after a majority vote, they’d officially become Handmade in Independence, or HMI, for short.
With additional production and sales, business continued to grow. Robyn had completely taken over the webpage, too, and traffic was increasing, keeping up with their listings.
Sophie came over every morning to help Myka package the orders, except for the crafts belonging to the woodworkers, who handled their own shipping. Hearing a knock and seeing it was eight-thirty, Myka went to let Sophie in.
“How’s the search for office space going?” Sophie asked, looking at the crowded living room, then bending down to pet Bear.
“Joshua has been searching for just the right place. We need to make room for our crafters as well as the woodworkers group headed by Henry Vaughn. People from both divisions have said they could do more if the company would provide them with work areas. At home, they tend to be in cramped spaces and they get interrupted. The woodworkers have
also mentioned that their neighbors are complaining about the constant din of saws and lathes day and night.”
“Working from home isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Sophie said. “It’s not that Mom interrupts, but there are too many temptations to get away from my desk, you know? It lacks...structure.”
Myka looked at her spinning wheel, now sitting in the corner and hemmed in by packing boxes. “HMI will need wool processing rooms, too. We should be far away from residences and other businesses so the noise doesn’t become a problem. That means we’re looking for a lot more than office space. We need a whole new working environment—maybe two sites.”
For the next half hour they worked in silence, then Myka reached for the last skein of russet-colored yarn. “Uh-oh.”
“That’s the last one?” Sophie said, her voice rising in panic.
“Yeah, I’m afraid so. We have other colors, but they’re going fast. Robyn and Joshua have been trying to find more local suppliers, but it’s been tough. Ideally, we’d like to buy a year’s worth of wool, wholesale, from a seller who’ll let us set up a payment plan.”
“Any luck so far?”
“No,” Myka said. “I never realized that finding a new supplier would be this hard.”
Hearing a knock on the screen door, she glanced up and saw Joshua standing there. “Hi, ladies. Is there a problem? I just overheard Myka say something about finding a supplier.”
“Come on in, Joshua,” Myka said, waving her hand. “You already know that we’re running out of wool, and it’s the most important raw material to keep us in business.”
Joshua nodded. “And you’re going to need a constant, dependable supply. I meant to try to find a tribal source that might work out, but I haven’t made any calls yet.”
“Get started, then, Josh, if you don’t mind. We really need quality wool, and we need it soon,” Myka said.
Sophie finally spoke. “Josh, your mentioning the tribe just reminded me of something—someone—who might be able to help.”
“Really? That’s great.” Myka stopped what she was doing and gave Sophie her undivided attention. “Who do you have in mind?”
“Before I came back home for good, I lived with a roommate in Albuquerque. From time to time she’d talk about her aunt, an Iraqi vet who lives on the Navajo Rez. She’s got a huge herd of Churro sheep.”
“Whoa, I think I know who you mean,” Joshua said. “The woman you were talking about...any chance her name is Maxine Redhorse?” Joshua asked.
“Yes! Do you know her?”
“Only by reputation. Since Dad died, I’ve been in touch with people he knew on the Rez, uncles and old friends, and her name came up. She’s a decorated war veteran who apparently returned to the Rez after her hitch was up. That was seven years ago. The Diné, The People, leave her alone for the most part, because she’ll wave a shotgun at you if you approach her place without permission. She has a reputation as being kind of a hermit. And now that you mention it, I recall someone saying she raised sheep.”
“Then let’s call her,” Myka said quickly.
“That’s part of the problem. She has no phone.”
“This doesn’t sound promising,” Myka said slowly.
Joshua shrugged. “We do have an edge. The reason I heard about her is because she gets her groceries at the trading post owned by my aunt and her husband.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met them. Were they at your father’s service?”
He shook his head. “They’re Traditionalists. They don’t attend funerals or memorial services.”
“You told me why that was one time, but I can’t remember. Something about the person’s ghost?”
“Not quite. The chindi isn’t a ghost, it’s the evil side of a man, and since that can’t merge with universal harmony, it stays earthbound. Traditionalists believe it can create big problems for the living, so they do their best to avoid contact with it,” he said. “My aunt and uncle take things like that very seriously. My uncle’s a hataalii, a Navajo medicine man. He and Dad had trouble getting along, but I think he’ll help me.”
“Can you call and find out?”
He shook his head. “No. They’ll see a phone call as a sign of disrespect, that I didn’t care enough to come ask them in person.”
“All right. Then we’ll both go,” Myka said.
“I can take care of this,” he said. “It may be dangerous for you. I understand Maxine doesn’t trust Anglos—whites—particularly those she doesn’t know.”
“I have to be there, Joshua. I’ll need to establish a connection with her if we end up doing business. After you leave, she’ll have to deal with me.”
“Leave? Josh, are you taking off on us now?” Sophie asked.
“The soonest I’d go is after Christmas, and that’s only if I find a position as an architect,” he said.
“Even so, I’m going to the Rez with you, Joshua,” Myka repeated.
“Then can you be ready to leave early tomorrow? It’s nearly a three-hour drive, and I’d like to be there about the time they open the trading post,” Joshua said.
“When’s that?” Myka asked.
“Eight o’clock,” he answered.
“Sure,” she said. “Sophie, can you box tomorrow’s orders?”
“No problem. My cousin’s daughter Paula can help me get everything ready. We can also feed and water your sheep.”
“Thanks so much! One more favor?” she asked, glancing over at Bear, who was playing with his squeaky toy. “Can you guys take care of him, too? I’ll pay you myself for that part.”
“No problem. Paula loves dogs. I’ll give her the job of babysitting him until you get home. She’ll keep him company, so no more running away.”
“Perfect. That way I won’t have to worry,” Myka said, then looked back at Joshua. “Okay, we’re all set. I’ll be ready.”
As he walked out, they both watched him, and after a moment, Sophie glanced at Myka and grinned. “He’s still got the best butt in the county.”
“I wasn’t checking out his...” Seeing Sophie give her an openly incredulous look, she laughed. “Okay, busted.”
* * *
JOSHUA STOPPED BY Daniel’s market next and found that his friend was assisting a customer at the meat counter. That wasn’t a problem, because he’d come looking for Grandma Medeiros anyway. He walked over to the back room and glanced through the open doorway. The spry, elderly woman was making coffee.
“Excuse me, ma’am, do you have a moment?” he asked.
“Certainly, Joshua, come on in and sit down. What’s on your mind?”
“Thanks,” he said, finding a seat on one of the three-legged stools beside a counter. “I’m hoping you have some information about my father—work he was doing before he died.”
“We spoke a lot about the community—and family—you father and I,” she replied, reaching for a coffee mug with a hand-painted daisy on the side. “What, exactly, do you want to know?”
“Before Dad passed on, he was trying to help Mayor Allen find Brooks’s revised will. The town needs it to restore the railroad right-of-way. I’ve decided to see if I can finish what he started but I have some questions.”
Grandma Medeiros looked through the door and saw Daniel checking out a customer at the front register. Taking her mug, she sat down in an old stuffed chair with an embroidered cushion. “Silas Brooks was one wily, crazy old codger. He cheated people left and right all throughout his life, and toward the end, he was convinced that his enemies were out to get him. He didn’t trust his own lawyers, so Silas hid all his legal papers as soon as they were drawn up. Mind you, he may have been right about his attorney, Jonah Patterson.”
“What makes you say that?” Joshua asked.
“The town’s former attorney, Bill
Yarrow, caught Jonah presenting a forged codicil to Brooks’s old will. Bill checked into some of the details and proved it was a fake. The document would have given Jonah most of Silas’s assets. After he was charged, Jonah committed suicide rather than go to jail.”
“And Patterson never made copies of Brooks’s papers, like the new will?” Joshua asked.
“Silas’s old will was in Patterson’s safe deposit box. That’s why the town now owns the Brooks Mansion. No one’s ever found the amended will. That one left the railroad right of way to Independence, too. Silas showed it to our mayor at one time, but Silas wouldn’t allow Patterson or anyone else to keep a copy.”
Joshua nodded. This confirmed what he’d read in his father’s emails to Mayor Allen.
Grandma Medeiros glanced at her grandson again and shook her head. “Daniel’s having a tough time of it these days,” she said quietly, changing the subject. “He blames himself for the fact that the store’s not doing so well. I keep telling him that when you’re self-employed, business has ups and downs. If he’s patient, it’ll turn around.”
“I’m sure it will,” Joshua said. “HMI will generate a rebirth in Independence. I feel it in my gut.”
“Me, too,” Grandma said and smiled. “I’m glad you’re back, Josh. You’re good for Daniel. He doesn’t have as many friends these days. Most of the boys he hung around with are gone. The ones who remain...well, too many have chosen to take it personally when he tells them he can’t afford to extend them any credit.”
Joshua sighed. “He does what he has to do. He wants the store to remain open.”
“This store’s his legacy. The Medeiros family has owned it for generations, but my time as a shopkeeper will come to an end sooner rather than later, and the only reason I’m staying on is because I’m receiving a share of the family profits instead of a salary. I’d like to hire someone to take my place, but we just can’t afford it right now. Don’t tell Daniel I told you, please.”
Joshua shook his head. “Of course not.”
She poured herself some coffee. “I know you’ve stayed busy, fixing up your dad’s house and doing that survey work on town-owned properties, but do you miss it? Architecture, that is. Building things.”
