Agnes gazed down at the pipe bag and stroked it reverently. “You two are truly courageous. We will pray for you at our next meeting and your names will be on our lips to the Great Spirit from now on. You have rescued one of the most powerful pipes known, and given it back to us.” Patting it tenderly, Grandmother Agnes whispered, “You are one of us, my child. We welcome you.”
As Dana knelt in front of the elder she could see the bluish-white light emanating strongly from around the beaded bag. Little waves of joy seemed to be surging outward, too, flowing through Dana and Chase and beyond the hogan. “I’m so happy for you, Grandma,” Dana said, her voice tremulous. Reaching out, she gently touched Agnes’s hand. “We are grateful it is back with you, with the society. I’ll look forward to the coming ceremony at the next full moon.”
Chase sat on a colorful woven rug near the elder. This moment was historical, he realized. Few stolen ceremonial pipes were ever recovered. And ceremonial pipes were the backbone of a Native American nation. To lose one to theft, well, that was heinous and shocking. And a nation’s spirit suffered because of it.
Once a ceremonial pipe was gone, it was usually gone forever. But this one time, they’d been lucky enough to find the pipe and get it back to its rightful place. Pride, warm and flowing, moved through him as he gazed at Dana’s glowing face and watched her animated features. There was no doubt there was a bond between her and her adopted grandmother, one of pure love and respect.
Chase stared down at his folded hands. He wanted to share such a look with Dana. Would that happen? He wasn’t sure. Until he heard her express that same wish, he was in the tortured position of a man wanting the world, but finding it out of his grasp.
Trying to remain tranquil while the two women celebrated the return of the Storm Pipe, Chase closeted his desires and wishes. The warmth in the hogan was building, even though the door was open, and he went and opened the windows to allow a breeze to come through. Sunlight from the east streamed in like a golden beacon, splashing its life energy throughout the home of the elder.
It was nearly 7:00 a.m. And Grandmother Agnes had been standing at the door, awaiting their arrival when they’d pulled up to her hogan. The old woman was clairvoyant, knew the pipe had been rescued and knew they were fine. She had hot fry bread, strawberry jam, eggs and bacon ready, and fresh coffee perking on the woodstove for them. Chase shouldn’t have been amazed by such knowing, but he always was. Perhaps because so few people utilized their intuition, it looked magical. What a better world it would be if everyone did use their sixth sense daily, he thought.
His gaze moved back to Dana, who was laughing through her tears. Tears of relief. Tears of joy. Tears that had long been withheld due to her past trauma. How Chase wanted to hold her! Just hold her, keep her safe and let her know that the world wasn’t always such a bad place, just chaotic from time to time. As he sat there, he yearned for a time of peace now. That would come, he was sure. And with it, the opportunity to share and talk with Dana, heart to heart. Mind to mind. Today, he hoped, he’d find out how she really felt about him, about them.
It was a sweet moment, and Chase clung to it. So much of his life had been harrowing, life-and-death, threatened or just plain lost to bigger events. Now, he wanted nothing more than the simple pleasure of having this woman in his arms, her mouth clinging hotly to his.
Would the Great Spirit give them this reprieve of time and space with one another? Chase prayed fervently that his request would be fulfilled.
Grandmother Agnes was beginning to look weary. Her face was alight with joy, but he saw the tiredness in her watery eyes. Dana seemed to sense and see it also, because she slowly got to her feet and turned to him.
“Chase? Want to walk up to the winter hogan? I think Grandma Agnes could use some time alone with the pipe.”
Nodding, he unwound and stood up. “Sounds good to me. Grandmother? We’ll drop in and see you for dinner tonight?” He knew Agnes would take care of the Storm Pipe until the transfer ceremony and that was as it should be. Agnes was the only one who could award a ceremonial pipe to a deserving woman.
“I’d like that, my children. We all need to rest. Our hearts and spirits have worked hard, and now we need to be quiet and be grateful.” Gently patting the pipe bag, she added, “Rest, my children, for you are certainly blessed by the Great Spirit for what you have done. Tonight, at sundown, come and I will have fresh mutton, potatoes and gravy waiting for you. A celebration dinner. Also, we need to plan a sweat lodge at noon today for us to welcome the Storm Pipe back in the society.”
Already, Chase’s mouth watered. Mutton was one of his favorite dishes. He saw Dana smile, too. When she reached out and gripped his hand, his heart banged in his chest. Her fingers were warm and firm upon his. Dana’s unexpected act was a sweet shock to Chase. He saw Grandmother Agnes’s eyes sparkle with happiness—for them. Curling his fingers around Dana’s, he said, “We’ll be here, Grandmother.”
“Come on,” Dana urged Chase. “Let’s go get groceries at the trading post.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
AT NOON THERE WOULD BE a sweat lodge ceremony to officially welcome the Storm Pipe to its rightful place with Grandmother Agnes. Chase knew in the past, the Storm Pipe had been with other nations, but always it belonged to the vaunted Blue Heron Society. Since their arrival, Dana and Chase had much to do. First, she dropped some of her belongings in the winter hogan. Outside, she heard Chase retrieving their groceries from the car parked down at Agnes’s hogan. They’d driven to a nearby trading post and gotten provisions for their stay. It felt so good to be home. As Dana moved around the quiet hogan, its hard-packed dirt floors covered with beautiful old handwoven rugs, she savored the moment. Grandma Agnes had hung fresh sage in the four corners, a way of announcing their return.
Smiling to herself, Dana saw that the elder had also dusted and cleaned. As always, cobwebs were removed and spiders were taken into the wilds to live. A fresh bouquet of blue lupine sat on the small wooden table.
Chase walked in the door, arms loaded with sacks. Dana turned from the small kitchen counter and helped him set them on the table. The happiness burning in his eyes went straight to her heart.
“Any more stuff?” she asked.
“Yeah, mostly our clothes and climbing gear.” Chase halted at the door. “We have to prepare for the sweat Grandmother will conduct for you, her and the pipe next.”
“I know,” Dana said, a little breathless as she put the canned goods away.
“I’ll start gathering the wood for the sacred fire. I know a spot where there’s a lot of kindling,” he told her.
“And I’ll help as soon as I get things squared away here in the hogan,” she murmured.
He rested his hand on the rough timbers of the doorway. Dana looked incredibly beautiful. Her hair was in thick braids and she’d dressed simply in jeans, hiking boots and a pale-green T-shirt that showed off her womanly figure. “Sounds good. There’s a bunch of dead juniper higher up in the canyon. I’ll start there and bring it down for the fire.”
“Right.” Dana nodded. She was crouched before the shelves, placing cans into the cramped area, but turned and smiled up at him. “I don’t know about you, but it feels so good to be home, Chase.” She swallowed hard and added, “Home with you…”
Had she gone too far? Said too much? For a moment, Dana’s breath hitched in fear. But when Chase’s expression grew even more warm and open, her heart sped up. Deep in her body, she felt an ache to love him.
“You’re my woman,” he told her gruffly. “We have duties right now, to welcome the pipe back to the Blue Heron Society, but after that…” Chase gave her a hooded look. “When we’re done with the sweat, we’re coming home, together. We have a lot to talk about, Dana. Important things…our future.”
Chase’s emphasis and meaning were clear and deliberate, like a rainbow glittering against a stormy sky. Closing her eyes for a moment, Dana allowed his voice to caress her like a lover’s ha
nd. Then she opened them and held Chase’s smoldering gaze. “Ours. Yes. For the first time in two years, Chase, I feel like living again. I have hope in my heart. Dreams.”
How badly Chase wanted to pull Dana into his arms and love her—hotly, and for a long, long time. But the ceremony came first. Smiling rakishly, he said in a low growl, “I never thought I’d love, Dana. But you’ve changed that for me.” He opened his hand. “There’s so much I need to say to you, share with you.”
“I know, the time isn’t right.” Dana smiled crookedly. “After the sweat, our lives will slow down finally, and we’ll have the time we deserve with one another.”
Chase returned her warm look and watched as she finished shelving the canned goods. “Roger that, woman of mine. Well, I’ve got to start the fire for the sweat. I’ll see you later, down at Grandmother’s hogan, for the sweat.”
“Right.” Dana sighed as he disappeared out the door. Birds were singing, and she recognized a cardinal’s beautiful melody from a juniper close to the hogan. Dana felt her tight shoulders relax. She was beginning to feel the aches, pains, cuts and scratches from her climb. Just the simple act of putting cans away soothed some of the shock and trauma. She’d nearly died out there on that cliff, and without Chase’s strength and support, she surely would have. A fierce tide of love swept through her. She loved Chase. With all her heart and soul.
Finishing arranging the shelves, Dana straightened up. There was something satisfying about making the hogan their home. Oh, she knew they couldn’t stay here forever, but for a week or two, it would be a wonderful place to hide away, a respite from the rigors of their mission.
An odd noise at the door interrupted her thoughts. Dana turned, and abruptly, her heart plunged in terror. Rogan Fast Horse stood in the doorway! His face was scratched and bloody, but his gaze burned angrily into her.
Was this a cruel trick? Dana stood there, frozen in place, as her worst nightmare suddenly materialized.
“You!” she finally gasped in a strangled tone. Instantly, adrenaline shot through her and she dropped into a crouched position near the sink.
“Yeah, bitch. Me. Where’s the Storm Pipe?” Rogan blocked the entry with his frame. He’d parked away from Agnes’s hogan, energetically cloaked himself so she nor a pipe of any kind could detect his presence. “And where’s that bastard, Chase Iron Hand?”
Shaking inwardly, her breath choppy, Dana realized there was no escape. A hogan had only one door, in the east. And Chase was somewhere high in the canyon. He’d never know Rogan was here—until it was too late. Her mind spun with desperation. There was no place to run. And the pistols? Where had Chase put the pistols? Had he even unloaded them from the van yet? Dana didn’t know. Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed. Her mind blanked out on her.
“I—Chase? He isn’t here.”
“Liar.”
Rogan remained in the doorway, his hands anchored on either side of the frame. Dana’s eyes narrowed. His clothes were torn and dirty. His hair, once combed, clean and in a ponytail, hung like filthy snakes around his narrow, long face. Rogan must have escaped from the compound, found a car and then found them.
“How did you track us?” Dana whispered, her voice squeaky with fear.
Giving her a lethal smile, Rogan said, “You stupid idiots didn’t cover your energy trail. That’s how. What’s the matter? You think some white boy FBI agents are gonna find me? Trap me and take me prisoner?” Rogan looked over his shoulder. “Where’s Iron Hand? I can feel him around.”
Gulping, Dana saw that Rogan carried a gun in a holster, low on his right thigh. There was a knife in a sheath attached to his leather belt. Dangerous. Deadly. Rogan was going to kill her. Dana knew it with every short, anxious breath she managed to suck into her lungs. He would kill her and then he would kill Chase. Even worse, Rogan would eventually find the Storm Pipe down at Grandma Agnes’s hogan.
They had thought they were safe. It was a stupid student’s mistake not to cover their energy trail, Dana knew. They were just so exhausted, so happy to get the pipe back. But a good sorcerer could follow their trail like a blazing light in the Other Worlds.
Holding Rogan’s dark-blue stare, Dana whispered, “Chase isn’t here. He dropped me off. He’s driving back to Carson City right now.” It was a lie. She saw Rogan scowl.
“His energy path led here.” Rogan’s eyes were bloodshot, and while menacing, he seemed dead on his feet.
Dana knew that even a good sorcerer, if tired, hungry or stressed out, could not maintain the intense awareness of the Other Worlds. And Rogan looked as if he was laboring under all those conditions right now. That told Dana he couldn’t continue to try and find Chase. But he’d had enough willpower and focus to trail them to the hogan.
Rogan’s mouth was twisted, his face gaunt and pale. Sensing intuitively that he’d escaped, then honed in on them, stealing a car to follow them, Dana gulped hard. She and Chase had completely underestimated Rogan’s ability not only to survive the FBI SWAT team, but to track Chase and her here, to the hogan.
“He was here,” Dana admitted. She was going to lie, because she knew Rogan’s psychic abilities were exhausted. If he was able, she was sure he’d have tracked Chase up into the canyon, but he hadn’t. That told her he had to rely on her for information. “But he’s gone now.”
“Your van is here,” Rogan said, his voice grating. Lucky for him one of his women found the keys to the handcuffs they’d put on him.
“Chase borrowed a friend’s pickup. He’s gone to the trading post for more supplies.”
Snorting softly, Rogan looked around. “Where’s the pipe, bitch? And don’t stall. If you don’t tell me, I’m comin’ over there to beat the information out of you. So make it easy on both of us, will you?”
Dana gasped as Rogan stood to his full height, his hands falling to his sides. When astral traveling, she’d seen Annie Ballard’s dead body. She knew he was good for his word. Concentrate! She had to make a call to Chase energetically. Closing her eyes, Dana pretended she was thinking about it. Instead, she sent her main spirit guide, a wolf, to tell Chase she was in danger and that Rogan was here. If Chase wasn’t too tired, if he wasn’t too focused on finding firewood, he’d hear the plea and come as swiftly as he could. After ordering her spirit guide to find Chase and deliver the message, she opened her eyes.
Rogan’s glittering gaze cut into her like an obsidian knife. She trembled over the shock of having him here. And she was perfectly aware that he’d kill her. It was just a matter of time.
“The pipe is out in the van. I can go fetch it for you.” Mind churning, Dana knew she had to get out of the hogan.
Rogan seemed to consider her words. “All right, go on.” He pulled his knife out of its sheath and pointed it at her. “One wrong move, and you’ll get cut.”
Dana’s knees weakened, and she gripped the counter for support. “I won’t try anything.” Her voice wavered, and Rogan seemed pleased. Fine, let him think she would be a victim to his threats.
Pulling away from the door, he snarled, “Get your ass out here and go get that pipe.”
She forced herself to move, hoping she could walk at all. This wasn’t the time to break down. Her hammering heart felt as if it would tear out of her chest as she approached Rogan. His face was a mass of cuts and bruises. Familiar with the brush on the mountain slopes, the cactus, she was sure he’d run blindly into the night to escape the SWAT team. His clothes were torn and ripped, stained with dried blood and mud. He looked like Death personified. And the knife he held was long and ugly.
As she moved out the door, Dana’s skin prickled. Rogan was right behind her, and she tried to stop from panicking. She went to the rear door on the driver’s side of the van. Stay calm, she ordered herself. Giving in to fear was never the answer. Rogan stood to her left as she halted at the door. The sunlight was hot on the metal handle of the vehicle, which she grasped. Chase had left most of their gear inside. She hesitated, stealing a quick glance up into t
he box canyon. No sign of him. Had he heard her plea and warning?
Right now, she was on her own, so she peered into the darkened glass. “See it in there?” she asked Rogan, pointing at the window.
He stepped forward.
In an instant, Dana jerked the heavy door open, and with all her strength, swung it into Rogan, who was leaning forward in its path.
The moment the door slammed into him, he was thrown backward, with a cry of surprise.
Dana took off running up the canyon. She heard him give a shout, then curse. Escape! The only place she knew to run was the canyon—which she knew like the back of her hand. No way would she lead him down to Grandma Agnes’s hogan. No way!
Her boots dug into the sand as Dana plunged recklessly up the slope. She dodged the cactus and brush, and with each step, adrenaline added to her speed. Not far below, she heard Rogan cursing loudly. She only hoped he would stop and examine the van, to see if the pipe was really there. It would give her time. Time to hide among the trees up ahead.
“You bitch!” Rogan shrieked, pawing through the items on the backseat. All he found were two blankets, a pillow and two pairs of shoes. No pipe! Frustrated, he jerked his pistol out of the holster. He was hungry and exhausted. He aimed the weapon and fired off three shots at the fleeing woman. None of them hit her. Dammit!
He turned his focus back to finding the pipe in the rear of the car. It could be hidden under the mess of ropes and tools there. Holstering the pistol, he climbed into the rear of the van. The pipe had to be in here!
Heart of the Storm Page 23
