She met his gaze. “It gets worse. I want to do it alone.”
The look he gave her undoubtedly outdid the one he would've given her had she told him about his dead father. I guess I should’ve told him anyway.
His reaction chafed, making her more determined.
“Mind explaining why?” he asked.
Scanning the magnificent power of the river as it embraced the large span of the canyon floor and encompassed no doubt countless submerged boulders, Emma felt purposefulness and resolve course through her, along with a tremor of fear. Weary of always being afraid, she decided her fright would need to lie down on this one. At some point, she would have to face what had happened with the boy. Maybe this would help.
“I’ve been hiding all my life,” she said. “From my gift, from people, from life. And I’m tired of it.” The words caught in her throat. She gestured to the immense rapid only a few feet from them. “Let me try this.”
She could see the battle he waged, every inch of him vibrated with it. Expecting him to overrule her decision, she waited for the refusal she knew he wanted to give. But like life itself, he surprised her.
“Alright.” His jaw flexed from the effort to grant her this wish. “But we’re gonna do this my way. Turn around and tell me the route you plan to take. And it better be damn good.”
She smiled as a thrill of exhilaration ran through her.
An hour later, she blew out a frustrated breath.
Her route wasn’t good enough, and Nathan had no problem making her analyze and re-analyze any and all options. The man was a river fanatic, she decided. While she knew his advice was sound, she also knew once on the river the best-laid plans could go up in smoke. That’s what made the entire venture so exciting. But in Nathan’s mind it made the entire idea nothing but lunacy.
Finally, he seemed convinced she understood the best course to take.
“It’s getting late,” he said. “Maybe we should wait and do it tomorrow.” Apparently, she was wrong about having persuaded him.
She shook her head. “No. I want to go now before I lose my nerve.”
“So you finally admit you’ve got nerves.”
“Of course I do. Don’t you? What did you do in the army, when you knew an ambush or attack was imminent? Did you run away?”
“This isn’t the same and you’re not a man, Emma.”
“Thank God for that. I know you didn’t run, so let me do this.”
“Even if it kills you?”
“That’s not my intention.”
“And you think that removes the element of danger?” he asked.
She paused. “Yes.”
As they walked swiftly back to the boat, Emma decided it was probably best if she ignored him from this point forward. The strain of what she was about to do finally caught up to her, but she couldn’t back out now as a thread of pride snaked up her spine. She was committed and would see it through.
Nathan removed a rope and his gun from the dory. He began tying the hemp to one of the rowlocks.
“Why are you doing that?” she asked.
“I can guide you from shore.”
She glanced across the river. “I think that’s a bad idea. It could get caught on the rocks. It could make things worse.”
Nathan stopped, and considered her words. He swore under his breath as he removed the rope. He placed the two extra oars within easy reach on the bottom of the dory, and spent another fifteen minutes discussing what she should do with her own pile of rope if she got into trouble. With impatience, she glanced at the quickly fading daylight.
Removing her hat, she thrust it into his hands. “Hold this for me.” As she turned to leave, he grabbed her arm.
“Emma, I don’t like this. It’s crazy. I’ll go in the boat, and you stay on shore. What’ll I do if something happens to you?”
“Do you always worry so much?” She didn’t hide her exasperation.
She quickly planted a kiss on his sour mouth before he could respond then jumped into the boat. He pushed her into the water. She rowed across the river to start her run on the far right.
Upon reaching her goal, she turned the boat bow forward, herself facing forward also. Both she and Nathan agreed it would be better if she could see what was coming. Her heart pounded and excitement filled her as the dory moved along to enter the rushing whitewater. Taking a deep breath, she scanned the noticeable obstacles as well as the not-so-noticeable ones, trying to line herself up to avoid them.
Then, she was in and there was no more time to think.
The boat bounced and dipped, and slid to the side. She struggled with her right oar to swing the bow back, but she came too close to a boulder. The oar snagged on it and swung the dory clear around until the rowlock ripped off. Now free, the boat entered the flowing water backwards with only one usable oar as the other floated swiftly away from her. The churning water spun her around again. She grabbed an extra paddle, but with no way to anchor it she found it useless. She disengaged the other oar from its lock before she lost that one as well then attempted to guide the boat with just one paddle in her hand, but she didn’t maneuver fast enough. The boat came up hard on a pile of boulders and became stuck. With some effort, she pried the dory free with the oar.
The main portion of the rapid sucked her in, and it was clear she’d lost the very well thought out route that Nathan insisted she memorize over and over. She flew by the seat of her pants now.
Water splashed her as the boat dipped and curved. Peripherally, she noticed Nathan’s small form running along the left bank, trying to keep pace with her. After twenty or thirty feet, the boat became stuck on more boulders. Again, Emma used the oar to pry herself free.
Missing rock after rock, she felt a rush of adrenaline as she rode the rapid to completion. Well, almost to completion. Just as she reached the bottom, a small overflow jarred the boat and knocked her into the water. Bringing her head up, she was glad to see the boat hadn’t flipped. She began to swim toward it.
Grabbing the side, she stood and pulled hard to haul the dory back to shore. Suddenly Nathan was there, helping her.
“Did you see it?” she asked, still trying to catch her breath as she wiped water from her face.
“Yeah, I saw it,” he said. “Damn near gave me a heart attack.”
“It was such a thrill.” She wasn’t going to let his bad temper ruin what had been a wild and exhilarating experience.
Nathan dragged the dory onto the shoreline as Emma removed her life vest. She laughed out loud. “I can understand why you love the water so much,” she said.
He looked back at her and stared. She couldn’t read his emotionless expression. This moody version of him would take getting used to, she decided.
“What?” she asked, her hand flying to her face. “Do I have something dripping out of my nose?”
He approached her. She tossed the vest to the ground and threw her arms around his neck, dragging him until they both fell into the water.
She laughed again and kissed him, at last getting a response. He had her clothes off in no time. The joining was fast, intense, and left Emma completely satisfied.
In darkness, they made camp.
Chapter Fifteen
Nathan lay on his back, Emma at his side, and stared at the flickering starlight in the night sky. With the fire burnt down, his own flame for the woman beside him subsided at long last. He’d taken her two more times since their rendezvous in the river, and wondered if it was the isolation that made him unable to stay away from her, or if he'd just been without a woman for too long. Deep down, the whispers he chose to ignore told him otherwise. Emma wasn’t a woman with which to dally, she was a woman who changed a man’s life.
“Do you think there’s life on other stars?” she asked.
Her mind wrestled with the damnedest things. “I don’t know.”
“There’s so many. If we could somehow figure out how to go there, then we could find out for certain.”
> “Yeah.”
“We can’t be the only ones who live in the universe.”
“I suppose not.”
“Grand Canyon almost seems like a place not of this world, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose, but you could also say the same about Texas. And some of the people in it.”
She poked him. “I’m from Texas. Well, of a sort. I was born in Virginia, but my only real childhood memories are of Texas.” She turned her head to look at him. “Where do you live?”
“Wherever I am.”
“You don’t have a ranch or homestead somewhere?”
“No, just never got around to it.”
“What do you do for Christmas?”
“Sometimes I visit my sister Janie and her husband Henry. And the Ryans have always welcomed me.”
“And the rest of the time?”
“Sleeping on the ground isn’t as bad as it sounds. Being here with you is proof of that.”
She turned her gaze back upward. “Have you always liked being so alone?”
He never really thought of it like that, but looking back, he supposed he had lived a remote existence since the death of his father and his departure from Missouri.
“Yeah, I guess I do.” But he wasn’t sure it was still true.
“It must be nice to go wherever you want, whenever you want.”
“You talk like someone who’s trapped, Em. You came all the way here. You didn’t let your circumstances dictate what you could and couldn’t do.”
“You’re right.” He could hear the sense of wonder in her voice.
“If you want to see the world, I’ll go with you,” he said, surprised he said it aloud. Even more surprising—a part of him needed to know there was a future for them.
“Really?” She moved closer and rested a cheek on his shoulder. “You’d travel the world with me?”
“But can you ride a horse? Or will I have to teach you that as well.”
She leaned over him. “One day, I’ll have something to teach you. Just wait.” Smiling, she kissed him then lay down, nuzzled against him, and soon fell asleep.
But she taught him something already. She showed him that life could have meaning again.
* * *
Emma flew.
It was an exhilarating experience as she hovered above the Colorado, zooming down the corridors of Grand Canyon, gliding, dipping, observing the terrain in a magnificent rush instead of the creeping pace mere mortals were forced to obey.
She didn’t recognize any of it. She must be in a part farther downstream, a portion yet to be discovered by her and Nathan. She veered into a side canyon near a rocky black monolith, its surface smooth and glassy.
Farther and farther she went into this quickly narrowing canyon, until she reached a cave. Now, she could walk. It was dark but she found her way easily.
Inside sat men, women, and children—all Indian—in chains.
Her eyes flew open. In the darkness she lay on the ground with Nathan, one arm draped around her as he held her snugly from behind.
The Indians, despite surprised to see her, nonetheless implored her for help.
She had no idea what it meant. Were those people being held against their will somewhere in the Canyon? Or, was it simply a dream? She wished the unease would leave her. The experience felt otherworldly, similar to her encounter when touching the Hopi Indian boy.
Nathan mumbled something and pulled her closer. She pushed a pile of hair out of the way. Normally, she would keep it braided, but Nathan wanted it loose. She relaxed into his embrace. She had him, and she had now. That was all.
The only certainty was that the future held none.
But she sensed that soon, she would need to walk a path not of this world again. She hoped she would know what to do once there.
* * *
They stayed at their late-night camp most of the next morning. Nathan spent the time repairing the boat. Emma’s run through the boulder-strewn rapid the evening before started two leaks in addition to losing one of the oar locks. Emma had brought minimal supplies for boat repairs, which forced Nathan into improvising solutions.
Emma spent her time boiling river water to resupply their flasks and cleaning out their food supplies, checking for spoilage and moisture damage. For the most part, everything looked fine. The tins holding the flour, coffee, and sugar had remained sealed.
When they were on the river again, the first thing she noticed was the change in the canyon walls. Instead of sandstone and limestone, it was now black and volcanic-looking. She grabbed Powell’s book and went to a page she'd marked earlier.
“Any advice?” Nathan asked.
“Hmmm. Not really. Soft rocks gave them smooth water and hard rocks were bad. He says the river has entered the gneiss and this is threatening.”
“Maybe we’ve found the doorway to the center of the earth,” Nathan remarked as he sat at the oars and guided them into a swifter current.
Emma smiled at his comment, then glanced around her. The impenetrable appearance of the granite reminded her of being within a fortified castle, protected from the evil of the outer world. But that notion was silly, she knew. Crags crossed the walls in zigzag patterns, pinnacles atop them reaching skyward. The granite cliffs jutted into the river, encroaching upon them at sharp angles.
Her thoughts drifted back to the young Indian boy, but she sensed nothing. Leaning back in the stern of the boat, she gazed at the fortress they floated through, thinking of what she witnessed inside the boy’s mind. She stared at the blue sky and the white clouds moving at a steady pace past her limited vision. The narrow canyon walls gave her but a slice of the grand world beyond.
Limited vision. She rolled that back and forth in her mind. How can I help the boy?
Open your mind. The clouds moved, changed, and took new shapes. Change. Nothing ever stays the same, not really. Security is an illusion. Transformation. All things need to grow, to expand, to move beyond their limitations, otherwise they die. Stagnation breeds a poison that destroys from within.
The Anasazi within the canyon were afraid of something. The boy’s mother was brutally cannibalized. Why did it seem the two were related?
Who could eat another human being? The thought revolted her. A glimmer on the edge of her vision hovered, brief and elusive.
The man who had done it.
He was in the canyon.
Emma frowned. Where was the boy? But she couldn’t find him. She continued to stare at the sky, a small tiny speck catching her eye. It moved back and forth, falling toward her, slowly. As it neared, she saw it was a bird.
It flew closer and closer. Curious, she sat up. The tiny bird encircled the boat. Nathan stopped rowing and followed Emma’s gaze. Not certain why, she slowly raised her hand and held her fingers like a perch.
In a flutter, the bird landed on her hand. Stunned, Emma stared at the exquisite little creature that was so unafraid of her. A brief glance at Nathan told her he was stunned as well, sitting as still as a statue across from her.
The bird turned its head first one way, then another. Its wings were brown, its head gray with two white stripes running on either side of its eyes. The white underbelly was in sharp contrast to its black throat, and the dark eyes watched her.
A sparrow.
Emma’s heart pounded. The boy.
A gust of wind blew the bird aloft and Emma watched its flight as it climbed, beating wings to ascend higher, touching the sky and the heavens beyond.
It was a sign.
Emma met Nathan’s gaze, unsure what to make of the whole incident.
Patience.
That had never been her strong suit.
“I guess you have a new friend,” he said.
Something told her it wouldn’t be the last time she saw a sparrow.
* * *
Nathan heard the roar before he saw the rapid. Louder and louder it became until he found a place to stop, though it wasn’t much of a shoreline. Narrow an
d rocky, he wondered if they would be able to scout the whitewater. What they were able to see gave him a bad feeling.
A big drop—maybe thirty or forty feet, maybe fifty—spilled downward, with giant waves roaring forward and back, and white froth foaming at the base. A quick assessment showed him no possibility of lining the boat; the sheer granite walls offered no footpath or anchoring.
They would have to run this one.
“I don’t know.” Emma raised her voice to be heard over the noise. “It looks…big.”
Nathan lifted his hat and ran a hand through his hair.
“Powell writes about the possibility of portaging via a side canyon,” Emma continued. “But we would have to carry the boat to the top of the granite, which is at least a two mile trek, then carry it back down to the river.”
“We can’t carry the dory that far,” he said. “Maybe you should hike around. I’ll run the rapid alone.”
She paused. “What if we both hike around and send the boat through empty?”
He considered her suggestion. It would ensure their safety, but he was concerned they would lose the dory.
“If you run it, Nathan, then I want to help you do it,” she said.
He sensed he’d have a hard time convincing her otherwise.
“Yeah, I thought you might, but I don’t want to lose you in those eddies.” He pointed to several. “We’ll tie a rope between us.”
He knew this wasn’t the best idea; ropes could get caught on any number of things. But he wanted to have a lifeline to her, a way to pull her free if the whitewater sucked her in.
They made their way back to the boat. Nathan tied a length of rope around Emma’s waist. “If you go in, try to surface as soon as you can.” He yanked the knots tightly, then tied the other end around his own waist.
Her sharp intake of breath and sudden stillness caused him to pause. “What is it?” he asked. Her blue-gray eyes met his, full of depth and sparkle and mystery, fringed by long dark lashes. “Did you see something?”
She hesitated then nodded. “Sometimes it’s just the edge of something. I can’t always be certain what the timeframe of the vision is—now, in the future, or it may’ve already happened in the past. How’s that for an answer?” She shook her head. “I can imagine what a charlatan you think I am.”
The Sparrow Page 13
