“So you stayed, and your grandmother taught you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you happy living here?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wished she’d never said them. What right did she have to ask about happiness? It was something that had eluded her most of her life. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Way too personal.”
“I read somewhere that happiness is a choice we make every morning. Sometimes I remember to choose, sometimes I forget.” He swallowed what was left of his tea. “What about you? Are you happy, Jordan?”
“I’d be a lot closer to it if my damned leg didn’t hurt so much.”
“Try this poultice.” He drew a packet out of his pack, something pungent sewn into a cheesecloth. “Steep this in just enough hot water to get it moist, let it cool just enough to tolerate, and then bind it to where it hurts.”
“Thank you.” She eyed the compress suspiciously and then wrinkled her nose when she sniffed it. “It smells unusual. What’s in it?”
“Willow leaves, which are anti-inflammatory. Comfrey root. Arnica.”
“I’ll give it a try, thank you.”
“If you need any help fastening it to your groin, just ask.”
“Thanks, but Christina is handy that way.”
“How come I never get to do any of the fun stuff?”
She gave him a look. “You know, Silas, the first time I talked to you I had you pegged as a cranky old eccentric.”
He raised an eyebrow. “The old part really smarts.”
“You answered the phone when I called about the job, and you were so abrupt I thought you had a reason for not wanting me to come.”
“I’d forgotten about that. I was just in a rush to make it to a welcoming ceremony for a new baby.”
“So you had no objections to me being hired?”
He hesitated. “Not exactly. I just figured you wouldn’t stay. It’s tough on the locals. They start to rely on a service and bingo, it’s gone.”
“Do you still feel that way about me?”
“Yes.”
The simple admission surprised her. He was certainly honest, but it made her defensive.
“And why is that?”
“You’re from the big city. It’s isolating and lonely to be in a place where the customs aren’t what you’re used to.” He flashed that devilish grin. “The natives are friendly, but they’re still natives.”
“I can learn and adapt. I’ve had more practice than most at blending into other people’s lives.” She thought of the foster homes she’d lived in before she finally settled into the last one. And even there, she’d been constantly on trial.
“Why did you really come here, Jordan?”
She wasn’t ready to bare her soul. “I needed to get away from the city. I wanted to get away from the city,” she corrected herself. Dammit to hell, she wasn’t about to share the story of her failed marriage with him. “I don’t know how it’ll be long-term, but so far I like it here,” she said. “Well, I didn’t like communing with bears that much, but then I’m not going to make a habit of falling off walkways. Apart from that one little slip, I’m settling in. I think I’ll be very—” she almost said happy “—content living here. The women in your family have made me really welcome, and I appreciate that.”
His expression told her he wasn’t buying it. “You’re a highly qualified E.R. doctor. Apart from the odd mishap with a power saw, this job isn’t going to challenge you. You’ll get bored, miss the adrenaline rush of the E.R.”
“I thought of that, and yes, I probably will miss it at times.”
He nodded. “A year is a long time.”
“I guess it can be.” Whatever intimacy they’d shared was gone. She glanced at the clock. “And it’s ticking past. Right now I’ve got to hobble over to the clinic. I have patients to see this morning.” She put a hand on the compress. “Thank you for this, and for the stories. I can’t wait to read them.”
He was on his feet, putting on his jacket. “When that groin heals enough so you don’t need a crutch, maybe you’d like to sightsee with a qualified guide instead of blundering around on your own?”
The man always caught her off guard. First he clearly let her know he didn’t approve of her being here, and in the next breath he—was he asking her out on a date? If so, his technique was rusty.
“What did you have in mind?”
“You’ve heard of the hot springs?”
She had. Christina had told her about the natural mineral springs on the island, and that tourists flew over from Tofino or took a boat from the village to visit them. “I’ve heard they’re breathtaking.”
“They’re healing. The mineral water is excellent for muscle stress. Except we can’t go until you can walk. We’ll go by boat, and then we’ll have to hike in for about twenty minutes. Whenever you’re up to it.”
So it wasn’t a date. He was a healer simply thinking of ways to help her recover. Why did she feel disappointed?
“Sounds good, Silas. I’ll look forward to it.”
“We’re better off not going on the weekend, too many tourists. Can you get away midweek for an afternoon?”
“Barring emergencies, I don’t see why not.”
“As soon as you can hike up a hill, we’ll go.”
He drew a plastic baggie out of his pocket. “Oops, almost forgot this.” He tossed it on the table. It contained dark green-and-brown herbs. “Boil the herbs in a kettle full of water about twenty minutes and then drink a half cup at a time. It’ll ease the pain.”
“Thanks again.”
“I’ll come by this evening and see how you’re doing. If you’re not busy?”
“I’ll check my day timer—I do have this frantic social life. But somehow I believe tonight is free.”
“Yes, I heard the symphony got canceled. Bummer.” He smiled and gave her a small salute and then he was gone, leaving Jordan wondering what the heck to make of him.
Was he coming on to her? The sexual teasing had made her think so, but then he retreated behind the role of healer.
Silas was complex. And she was out of her league, because really, what did she know about men? The only male she’d ever had a satisfactory long-term relationship with was her brother, and she didn’t see Toby that often. She’d thought she knew Garry, and look how wrong she’d been there. There had to be some weakness, some fatal flaw in her that had drawn Garry to her. She’d said that once to Helen.
“We all have wounds in our psyche that need to be healed,” the psychiatrist had said. “I believe we attract the individual who has the most potential to help us heal those wounds. Sometimes it’s through negative lessons, as it’s been for you with Garry. Sometimes it can be positive, but the potential for healing is always there, on both sides, in any relationship.”
It sounded rational, but Jordan hadn’t really understood it. And she didn’t have time to dwell on it. Grabbing her crutches, she hobbled off to work.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THAT AFTERNOON, Silas was busy at the computer when he heard a tap at his door. He opened it and smiled at the girl standing there.
“Hi, Mary.” Mary John was about seventeen. Her long, thick hair and wide dark eyes set off a pretty heart-shaped face.
Silas knew her the way he knew most of the villagers. He also knew she’d been dating his brother Patwin, and that she’d quit school before her final year and now helped run the guest house, which catered to overnight visitors to Ahousaht. Usually vivacious and good-natured, today she looked pale and tired.
“Silas, will you help me?” As was customary, she made the request formally and held out an offering that would count as a consultation fee. It was a small handmade willow basket, beautifully woven and filled with tiny, jewel-like wild strawberries, the seaside strawberries prized by the Nuu-chah-nulth.
Silas ceremoniously accepted the offering and thanked her. Accepting the initial gift sealed a contract between them. It meant that Silas would ask the spirit f
or help not in curing Mary, but in healing her in a much broader sense.
“Come in. Would you like some tea?” Silas gestured to the couch, as he stirred up the fire and heated water. When the tea was ready, he handed her a cup and took a seat across from her in a straight-backed chair. He waited silently for her to speak.
A couple of tears slipped down her cheeks. She hung her head. Finally, Silas said gently, “Tell me what’s making you unhappy, Mary.”
“Patwin dumped me yesterday,” she whispered. “He said we were getting too serious.” She mopped at her cheeks with her sleeve like a child, and Silas handed her tissues.
“How do you want me to help?” Mention of his brother made Silas uneasy. Patwin had a well-earned reputation as a stud among the girls. He was the proverbial bad boy, and he could have his pick of companions. But this wasn’t about Patwin. It was about Mary.
“I’m so tired all the time,” she sighed. Voice trembling, she stammered, “I’m s-sick every m-morning.”
“How long have you felt this way?” Silas was sensing her as they talked, getting a feeling for the psychological and spiritual components to her illness as well as the physical ones. Even though he had a good idea, he said, “Do you know what’s wrong?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Mary gulped and started to cry. “I think I’m pregnant. With—with—Patwin’s baby. And I’m scared the drugs will hurt the baby.”
“What drugs?”
“The ones Patwin took. Before. I heard they can make the baby deformed.”
Silas kept his expression neutral, but his heart sank. Patwin was seventeen, unreliable as hell, with a history of running away and drug use. Definitely not good father material. Mary was hardly more than a child herself. And from what he knew of Mary’s family, they wouldn’t be much help. At least he knew the Crows would do everything they could.
“Do you know for sure you’re pregnant?”
Mary shrugged. “I’m pretty sure, yeah. My period’s late and I’m sick in the morning.”
“Have you gone to the doctor for tests?”
Mary shook her head. The tears were now running freely down her cheeks.
“Have you said anything to your mother? Or to Patwin?”
Mary shook her head again. “I was scared to tell Patwin, and now he doesn’t want to see me anymore.”
“If you are pregnant, do you want to keep this baby, Mary?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, I do. Patwin’s gonna be really mad at me, though. He’s gonna say it was all my fault.”
“It takes two people to start a baby, Mary. Patwin’s just as responsible as you are.” Another thought struck him. “Are you scared of Patwin, Mary? Are you afraid he’ll hurt you?”
Silas hated having to ask that question about his brother, but youth detention centers weren’t gentle places.
Mary shook her head. “He wouldn’t hit me or anything. But he might go away again when he finds out, back to Vancouver. There’s lots of drugs and bad people there, he’d get into trouble again. I—I really love Patwin, Silas.”
“You need to think of yourself. And the baby.”
“I guess.” Mary’s pretty face was a mask of misery. “You remember my brother, Adam?”
Silas nodded. Adam had died in a boating accident two years before. He was fourteen. Mary’s father had started drinking heavily and finally left the family— Silas didn’t think Mary’s mother, Josephine, was coping well at all.
“I want to have this baby so my mom will have something to cheer her up. She still cries every day about Adam.”
Mary’s words were heart-wrenching. Silas wanted to tell her that having a baby for someone else’s benefit wasn’t smart. Instead, he searched for more positive advice.
“It should have been me that died. Dad wouldn’t have left if it had been me.”
Silas felt such sympathy for the girl. “Why do you say that?”
“It’s what my mother thinks.”
“Has she said that?”
Mary shook her head. “I just know it.”
Silas struggled to keep his personal feelings at bay. They wouldn’t help Mary, and that was what he wanted to do.
“Do you know your totem spirit, Mary?” Silas had caught a glimpse of it in her eyes.
He gave her time, and after a while she said hesitantly, “Maybe a mule deer? There was one that used to come right up to me. I’d feed it lettuce from my hand.”
“A deer symbolizes flexibility and inner beauty,” Silas explained. “Part of your spirit left for the afterlife when Adam died because of your belief that your mother didn’t value you. The deer moves between the ordinary and spiritual realities. She represents the power you have lost. We must ask her to help you reclaim it.”
Silas got the deer hide someone had tanned for him and made into a throw. He asked Mary to lie on it, to honor and invoke her spirit helper. He lit tapers and smudged with sage and cedar, purifying his patient and himself to create an atmosphere that invited healing energies.
He prayed and sang a deer honoring song. Then he sang two healing songs, and visualized the lost parts of her soul returning to her body. When the ceremony was over, he taught Mary the songs and told her to keep the image of her deer helper in her mind and to express gratitude to it every day. He asked her to keep track of her dreams, to write them down whenever she awakened in the night. He gave her a small container of juice made from herbs he’d gathered, and told her to mix it with a little water and drink some every day until it was gone. “It will help the sickness, and strengthen your body so the baby has a safe place to grow.”
Mary thanked him. “Should I come back for another healing?”
“Ask your mother if she would come with you.”
Mary hesitated and then nodded. “I’ll ask. But I don’t think she’ll do it, though.”
“She must decide that for herself. And if you want to come on your own, that’s okay.”
“Thank you, Silas.” She put twenty dollars on the table, but Silas shook his head and tucked it back into her hand. Normally he accepted whatever fee the patient offered, but this was a special case, a family matter.
“Before you come back, I want you to go to Doctor Burke. If she confirms your pregnancy, you must talk to Patwin. This is his responsibility as much as yours. He has to know. Then, if you want to, come back and see me.”
When she was gone, Silas meditated, asking for the best outcome for everyone. By the time he opened his eyes again, it was dusk outside. The healing had taken all afternoon. He was always surprised at the passage of time when he was involved in a ceremony; hours passed like minutes.
He smudged the house, clearing it of negative energy. Hungry, he decided to walk to the medical center to see if Jordan needed something to eat. It was tourist season, and Mabel’s would be open for dinner. Next to his mother, Mabel Smith was the best cook he knew.
He washed and put on a fresh checked shirt and clean jeans, trying to put the disturbing meeting with Mary out of his mind.
It was hard not to be furious with Patwin. The boy seemed to create heartbreak at every turn, and now there would be an innocent child as a result of his carelessness. Patwin wasn’t able to care for himself, never mind take on the responsibility of a child. Financially and emotionally, it would be the Crow family who shouldered the burden.
Over the past several years, Silas had run the gamut of frustration and anger and impatience with his young half brother. He’d done his best to help Patwin in every way he could devise. But as always, the only person who could change Patwin was Patwin. And so far, there was no sign that the boy wanted to change.
In the meantime, this powerful energy drew Silas toward Jordan Burke. And he knew that resisting energy was fruitless.
SITTING ACROSS FROM JORDAN at Mabel’s half an hour later, he watched her study the hand-lettered menu and wondered what those full lips would taste like. He could smell her perfume, light and woodsy.
“What’s bannock?”
“Indian bread. Flour, water and baking powder. It’s how it’s cooked that makes a difference in how it tastes. It’s best made on a sandy beach. You build a fire and put the dough under the sand. When it’s cooked, you take it out, brush off the sand and break it into pieces. It’s good.”
“Sand, huh?” She wrinkled her nose. “What are you having?”
“Baked salmon.” It wasn’t much of a decision. The only real choices were between the salmon and shepherd’s pie. There were burgers, of course, but Mabel kept things simple with dinner menus.
“It comes with greens and bannock,” he explained. “And dessert, whatever Mabel felt like making today.”
“Okay, I’ll have the same.”
Silas gave the order to Mabel’s daughter, Grace, and their meals arrived almost immediately.
Mabel made her own dark basting sauce, and Silas had to smile as Jordan took a tiny, suspicious forkful of the salmon. She looked across at him with a surprised look on her face. “Wow, this is absolutely great.”
He figured that the simple café with its mismatched tables and chairs wasn’t exactly the sort of place Jordan was used to going on a date.
“Mabel used to cook at logging camps,” he explained. “You have to be exceptional to get hired, loggers are really fussy about their food.”
“It’s such a relief to know there’s somewhere I can come for a decent dinner. After working all day, lighting that stove and making something seems overwhelming. Don’t tell Rose Marie I said that, either. She’s been busting her butt teaching me the basics. And thanks for the kindling and the wood, by the way. Eli and Michael brought two wagonloads over this afternoon. I gave them each three dollars—I hope that was enough?”
“You weren’t supposed to pay them anything.”
“Nonsense, the poor little kids were sweating by the time they got it all unloaded.”
“Those poor little kids have you pegged as a soft touch. If you must pay them, fifty cents a wagonload is more than enough. And what’s this about them selling you bread and berries?”
“Michael’s mother, Wanda, sent a loaf over and it was so good I asked him if she’d supply me with one every couple days. Eli’s been bringing me those lovely little strawberries, he deserves a good tip for going to all the work of picking them.”
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