by Clay, Verna
Song
of the
Red Rocks
"Red Rocks Trilogy: past, PRESENT, future"
Verna Clay
For country music lovers!
Song of the Red Rocks
Red Rocks Trilogy: past, PRESENT, future
Copyright © 2015 by Verna Clay
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
For information contact:
[email protected]
http://www.vernaclay.com
Join mailing list
Published by:
Verna Clay
Cover Design:
Verna Clay
Picture:
CanStock: littleny
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Preface
Sedona and the Village of Oak Creek (near Sedona) are two of my favorite places. In 2014, while spending time with friends in Sedona, I was inspired to write a story that would unfold under the shadow of the red monoliths, with the timeframe being the late 1800s before the town of Sedona was established.
While writing Healing Woman of the Red Rocks I decided to create a trilogy, with the first story taking place in the past, the next in the present, and the last in the future. The first book required research of several Arizona locations, including Fort Apache, Fort Verde, the city of Globe, and more. To say I had fun visiting those places would be an understatement.
In Song of the Red Rocks, my characters remained mostly in Sedona and the Village of Oak Creek, so I included some interesting tidbits of history from those towns.
As for the plot, my heroine is a famous country and western singer descended from the characters in book one. When she discovers her linage, she attempts to purchase land that once belonged to her family. The owner, however, has no intention of selling, and certainly not to a woman he considers pampered and selfish. Of course, he has misjudged her. As my characters spend time together and discover artifacts from the past, they soon realize just how wrong assumptions can be.
I hope you enjoy Sunny Sundance and Jason Grant's magical journey to their happily ever after.
Verna Clay
Table of Contents
Preface
Prologue
1: Attorney Talkin'
2: Post Office
3: Journal
4: Lexis
5: Bell Rock Motel
6: Friend and Guide
7: Bad News
8: Stepping into the Past
9: Cowboy
10: Good Deed
11: Journal Entry
12: Search and Rescue Party
13: Finding the Needle
14: Talking Oak
15: Opening the Past
16: Angelica's Suggestion
17: Another Hunt
18: Restoration
19: Attic Find
20: Almost Complete
21: Military Man
22: Teaser
23: More than Make-Believe
24: Interruption
25: Plea
26: Cabin Encounter
27: Gust
28: The Talk
29: Life Resumed
30: Hiding
31: Mystery Woman
32: Vigil
33: On a Mission
34: Wait
35: Fog
36: Pronouncement
37: Bell Rock Motel
Epilogue
Author's Note
Healing Woman of the Red Rocks (Past)
Cry of the West: Hallie
Novels and Novellas by Verna Clay
Prologue
Standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows in her hilltop Point Loma home, a seaside community of San Diego, Sunny Sundance watched waves hammer the rocks below. And today, as every day for the past month, the waves mirrored her battle against melancholia. Usually upbeat and optimistic, circumstances were taking a toll on her outlook.
She sighed and turned to face her beautifully appointed library. Making a home for herself and her husband had been a labor of love. That was, of course, until he filed for divorce, which stirred up the relentless pursuit by crazed paparazzi wanting to know her version of the breakup. Although she could have had a field day lambasting her soon-to-be ex, she knew she'd never stoop that low. The latest madness had been fueled by a picture of her husband and his mistress sharing a passionate kiss that had made the rounds of several tabloids. Her life had become a living nightmare.
For ten years she and Dirk Benson had been the darling couple of the country scene. Her career had placed them in the limelight and fueled his success as a financial manager for C & W artists. They were often photographed and featured with accompanying accolades in reputable magazines—until now. Now they were the butt of late night jokes, photo-shopped tabloid snapshots, and twitter hashtags. More than a few loyal fans had even turned into enemies.
Having been in the limelight for twenty years, Sunny had learned to deal with both positive and negative publicity, but what she couldn't presently handle were her own misgivings. Was she as much to blame for her failed marriage as her cheating husband? Was her multi-award career the real culprit ending their wedded bliss? As Dirk had so cruelly claimed in their divorce papers, was she a cold, self-obsessed woman? A woman who cared more about writing the next country hit than nurturing her relationship with her spouse? According to the documents her husband had been forced to seek companionship elsewhere because of loneliness.
Sunny glanced around the room again allowing her gaze to fall on the myriad awards lining the walls and shelves—gold and platinum records, female entertainer of the year statues for two consecutive years, song and album of the year plaques, Oscar for best song, and so many more. Was Dirk correct in his assessment of her or was he just trying to gain public sentiment?
She would be the first to admit that after escaping the confines of the foster care system at the age of eighteen, she had single-mindedly pursued her dream of a singing career, never imagining it would lead to such fame and fortune. And after being screwed over by a talent scout early on, she and her band had spent the next few years trying to catch a break. It had been a serendipitous meeting in a Las Vegas lounge that escalated into a record deal with her song, Family Wanted, becoming a hit almost overnight. The song had told the tale of a lonely teenager's attempt to find solace in her music, which, of course, echoed Sunny's own life.
Sunny returned to staring at the ocean and stifled a sob when melancholia won the battle for her emotions. Unwanted scenes from her life relentlessly crashed into remembrance, just like the waves below. The first scene was the death of her mother shortly after Sunny's tenth birthday. When authorities had been unable to locate relatives, she had been thrust into foster care. Being an older, ungainly child, no one had stepped up to the plate to adopt her. Continued attempts by the state to locate family had ended in failure.
Her father, much older than her mother and an only child, had died of a heart attack within a year of Sunny's birth, and her mother had supported them by working as a waitress in Tucson. And although they'd had little in the way of material possessions, they'd been rich in love. Her mother had often regaled Sunny with stories told by her own mother about their ancestors.
Lifting her gaze to swirling clouds in an angry sky, she closed her eyes and sighed when a particularly happy scene replaced the sad one.
"Mama, tell me again about the red rocks and our family."
Her mother, N
aomi, would smile and reach for the worn magazine featuring pictures of the red cliffs surrounding Sedona, Arizona. Sitting on their couch she would pat the spot beside her and young Sunny would cuddle next to her, waiting for her mother to open the magazine and tell the story of the woman known as the Healing Woman of the Red Rocks. The story would begin when Naomi turned the page to the picture of a huge monolith known as Bell Rock located near the Village of Oak Creek, just outside of Sedona.
"Well, Sunny, the Healing Woman lived in a beautiful valley in a cabin built by her great-grandparents near the rock shaped like a bell, and she was loved by all the animals. She could even communicate with them…"
The tale would continue with Sunny asking numerous questions as her mother turned from page to page.
Sunny opened her eyes and walked across the room to a comfortable beige sofa with turquoise throw pillows lining the length of it. She sat and reached for her most valuable possession, the tattered magazine her mother had used for her stories. She lifted the precious keepsake and laid it across her lap, again reliving the past.
"Mama, what happened to the Healing Woman?"
"She lived happily ever after with her husband."
"Did they have children?"
"Well, her husband already had a daughter and an adopted son, so she was blessed with two children as soon as they married. But later, they had another daughter."
"Did they have any more children?"
"No, they never did. It seems that all of our ancestors only bore one daughter."
"Just like you and me?"
"Yes, sweetheart, just like you and me."
"Mama, do you think we could go to Sedona someday and find the Healing Woman's cabin?"
"Someday, Sunny, you will be the one to find it."
"But I want to find it with you."
That's when her mother's smile would fade a little and Sunny would sometimes see unshed tears glistening in her eyes. As a child, she had never understood, but now she wondered whether her mother had had a premonition of her early death. Although Sunny had never experienced any psychic ability, her mother said it ran in their family. She remembered her saying more than once, "Sunny, you will face many challenges in your life, but those challenges will make you strong and compassionate." Had her mother been trying to prepare her for what was to come?
Sunny opened the publication and turned to the photo of Bell Rock. Ironically, she had never been to Sedona. After the death of her mother it had taken years for her to even open the magazine again. The pain of loss had been unbearable and only intensified when she saw the beloved pages, so she had packed it away in an old suitcase.
A tear slipped down her cheek and fell onto the picture of Bell Rock.
1: Attorney Talkin'
Eight months later
For Sunny Sundance the past eight months had been grueling. The finality of a marriage she'd thought would last a lifetime had tilted her world on its axis. To balance herself, she had plunged headlong into work, almost doubling her appearances at fairs, charity events, and private parties, as well as maintaining her already scheduled concerts until she had almost killed herself from exhaustion. A collapse on stage had landed her in the emergency room and fed the paparazzi more fodder. Her longtime doctor had ordered her to rest for at least three months or face the consequences of declining health. However, before her doctor had even voiced his order, she had decided to take a leave of absence—maybe even a permanent one. She could retire at the height of an illustrious career and avoid the inevitable pitying stares that would plague her when she was no longer in demand.
Her cell phone rang and she wasn't going to answer, until she saw it was from her longstanding attorney, Adam Carter.
"Hi Adam, what's up?"
"Hey, Sunny. How are you feeling? Are you resting like the doc ordered?"
She rolled her eyes. Adam was the quintessential attorney, always inquiring as to her health and wellbeing. Of course, his six-figure yearly earnings for dealing with all her ordeals—divorce, copyright infringements, frivolous lawsuits from jealous rivals, and the like—was enough for him to keep close tabs on her.
She shook her head to clear stupid thoughts. When had she become so cynical? Over the years Adam had proven his loyalty and become a good friend. She jokingly replied, "Yes, father, I'm being good, eating all my veggies, and napping every afternoon."
Adam didn't take offense at her wisecrack and chuckled. "Good. Because this is your attorney talkin' and I wouldn't want to dole out unwanted advice."
Sunny replied dryly, "Your advice is never unwanted, Adam."
He laughed. "Are you trying to sweet talk me, Sunny?"
"Of course." She heard him shuffle papers and waited to hear the reason for his call. A moment later he said, "Remember that guy who called my office saying he found a journal belonging to you in the attic of the house he bought near Sedona?"
"Yes."
"Well, it arrived yesterday via Express Mail and I took the liberty of opening it."
Sunny interrupted, "So, did the guy turn out to be a nutcase? You know, sending me his underwear."
Adam laughed. "No, the only items were an old journal and tintype picture; also a short note. I've got it in my hand. Here's what it says."
I researched the linage of the people written on the back of the tintype, and I believe these belong to you. If not, send them back to me.
"The letter is signed by Jason Grant. Do you want me to review the journal and get back to you? If it's genuine it could be fun reading the thoughts of your ancestors."
Sunny's heart pounded at the thought of knowing more about an ancestry she had purposely avoided. However, since she had no living relatives, why go through the heartache. "No. Just send everything to me. I sure hope this guy isn't a groupie trying to pull a fast one."
"So far, Mr. Grant has checked out as being sane. If you're sure you don't want me to vet the journal first, I'll have my assistant overnight it to you. Do you want it sent directly to your house or post office box?"
"Send it to the P.O. box. It'll give me an excuse to leave the house."
Adam hesitated before asking, "I don't know if I should bring this up, but have you seen the latest tabloid about your ex?"
Sunny's heart plummeted. "No. What do I have to look forward to now?"
Adam was silent and Sunny closed her eyes, waiting.
Finally, he said, "It may not be true, but the tabloids report that Dirk and Kate are expecting a baby."
Sunny felt her legs buckle and she fell backward onto the couch. She couldn't form a word. Tears pricked her eyes.
Adam said kindly, "Sunny, are you okay?"
"Y-yes, of course. We always wanted children." Her voice faltered.
Adam gave her a moment to compose herself before saying, "Honey, do you want me to call someone to come over and be with you?"
"No!" she replied vehemently. "I'm fine! More than fine. In fact, I was just about to go for a walk. I'll talk to you later."
Adam hesitated again and finally replied, "Okay. I'll call you this afternoon."
Sunny ended the call and remained on the couch staring blankly at the wall of windows as unbidden images of her and Dirk on their honeymoon flashed across her mind. "Tell me again how many children you want?" she'd playfully asked while snuggling up to his side.
"At least seven."
Her eyes had widened and she'd leaned back to stare incredulously at him. But before she could respond, he'd kissed her passionately and said, "Just kidding. Six will suffice."
Shifting her focus to the ocean, she again felt guilt over the ending of her marriage and her inability to become pregnant. Unable to bear the remembrance, she jumped to her feet and rushed out the slider onto the deck, wanting only to clear her mind. She descended the steps at the edge of her property until she reached a small strip of beach. Turning eastward she walked through the cool morning mist to her favorite tide pool and sat on a rock, wondering what the rest of her life held i
n store.
2: Post Office
Because Sunny was on sabbatical, she had encouraged her personal assistant to also take time off and sweetened the request with a continuance of full salary for three months. Bev had jumped at the opportunity to fly home to Tennessee to spend time with her daughter and grandchildren. Sunny hadn't had the heart to confide that she was thinking of retiring from her singing career.
It had been two days since she'd talked to her attorney, so she donned her disguise in preparation for a trip to the post office. Pulling a ball cap over the blond wig covering her charcoal black hair, she slipped on enormous sunglasses to hide her eyes, one of the telltale giveaways causing her to be recognized. Like her mother, depending on her mood or the weather, they could be as blue as a summer sky or smoky lavender.
A last glance in the mirror made her chuckle. Her baggy jogging pants and ratty sweatshirt completed the picture of a hardcore exercise nut on her way to or from the gym. Of course, her full figure proclaimed her dislike of hardcore exercise.
Grabbing the keys to her nondescript vehicle, she headed for the laundry room to exit into the garage. Bypassing the Mercedes SUV and Lexis SUV, she opened the door to the 1995 Jeep Cherokee and slipped inside. The car perpetually needed to be washed, but purposefully never was. It was part of a disguise that kept her under the radar of paparazzi and fans, some adoring and some downright vicious since her divorce. She pushed the fob to lift her garage door and backed out. She had no fear of being spotted inside the gated community she lived in. It was when she waved goodbye to the gatekeeper and drove outside that she kept a close watch for reporters or stalking fans.
