“Why are you so hard on yourself, Sunny?”
Sunny glanced over at Aubrey, who was leaned back in the seat, flipping through a thick, glossy magazine. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s like you’re afraid to have fun. Like you think something bad is around every corner. Like if you don’t keep everything under your control, well, it might all fall apart. You know?”
Sunny frowned. Unfortunately, she did know. She just didn’t know it was that obvious.
“Why?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“That’s why I asked.” Aubrey flipped another page.
“It looks like you’re reading your magazine to me.”
“I’m mostly ogling the jewelry.” Aubrey laughed, then closed the magazine. “It’s just Cowboys and Indians.”
“What?”
“The magazine.” Aubrey held it up. “It’s called Cowboys and Indians.”
“Seriously?”
“You’ve never seen it?”
“No. It’s really called that?”
“Uh-huh. Does that offend you?”
“What?”
“The word Indians. I mean, you always refer to it as Native Americans. And it’s not that I don’t want to be PC. But where I’m from, most people just call them Indians.”
“Them?”
“You know, Native Americans.”
“But you think of Native Americans as them?
“No, I don’t think of Native Americans as them.” Aubrey sounded slightly offended.
“But you do see them as different from you, right?”
“Well, they are different.”
“Really?” Sunny took in a deep breath. “And you think I’m different too.”
“I don’t mean you, Sunny. I mean some of the Indians—the ones on the reservation. They’re not like you.”
“So you know a lot of…uh, Indians?” It wasn’t easy using the I word. But Sunny reminded herself of how her grandmother had always used it with no concerns.
“I know a few Indians. And, just like white people, there are all kinds. Some Indians are good for nothing. And some are great.”
Sunny just nodded.
“So you didn’t answer my question, Sunny. Why are you so hard on yourself and afraid to have fun? Is it because you’re part India— I mean, Native American?”
Sunny thought about this. “Maybe. Although I’ve never really given my ethnicity much thought.”
“Really?”
“I know it sounds incongruous, considering my anthropology background. But after my parents died, my grandmother raised me. I think, looking back, that she was ashamed of her heritage.”
“So she made you ashamed too?”
“I don’t know that I’d go that far. Mostly she made me feel like I had no heritage—she raised me like an average American Caucasian. To be fair, I’m only one-quarter Native American.” She shook her head. “Ironically, I look more Native than my mother did, and she was half. But she got my grandfather’s genes.”
“And you got the other side?”
Now Sunny told Aubrey about her great-grandmother’s fringed jacket and the photo. “I couldn’t believe how much I looked like her. And I’m sure she was nearly as tall as me because the coat fits.”
“Where is it?” Aubrey asked eagerly. “I want to see it.”
“In a garment bag back there.” Sunny nodded toward the back-seat. “I’ll show it to you later. It’s really gorgeous.”
“It sounds gorgeous.”
“I can’t believe my grandmother hid it away all these years. Thankfully she didn’t get rid of it altogether. It’s like she wanted to keep anything connected to her Native past pushed far, far away from her…and even further away from me.”
“That’s not so surprising.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve heard stories of people in Pendleton who pass for white, keeping their roots a secret. Then someone will need a bone marrow transplant, or an inheritance will be in question, and suddenly you find out your next-door neighbor is a half-breed.”
Sunny grimaced. “Half-breed?”
“Sorry. Blame it on my upbringing. My dad comes from a long line of redneck ranchers and cowboys. Sometimes I forget myself.”
“So if you find out your neighbor is, well, of mixed ethnicity, do you look at that person differently?”
“Not if they were a good neighbor.”
“But a bad neighbor?”
Aubrey didn’t answer.
“So you chalk it up to being Native American then.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I guess people just are what they are, and it doesn’t matter what their bloodlines are. Do you get what I mean?” Aubrey sounded worried.
“Sorry.” Sunny reached for her sunglasses. “I didn’t mean to sound so touchy. This whole thing is foreign to me, and I’m trying to figure it out as I go. You know what’s really ironic?”
“What?”
“My parents were both fairly liberal college professors and never shirked from our Native heritage. If they’d lived, I’m sure I would’ve learned all about my ancestors, and we’d probably have visited Pendleton. I’d have been totally comfortable with all this. But being raised by my grandmother, well, sometimes I wonder what my parents would think.”
“Because she did things differently from your parents?”
Sunny nodded. “And it’s not that I blame her. She was in her sixties when she got guardianship of me. Her life hadn’t been exactly easy.”
“So she was born on the reservation?”
“Yes, and she couldn’t wait to get off of it. She married the first white man who came along and promised to take her away to a better life. Unfortunately, her first husband was not a good man.”
“So she was married more than once?”
“Yes. Ironically, despite her aversion to alcohol, her first husband turned out to be an abusive alcoholic who treated her like his slave— he even called her his ’squaw.’ ” Sunny shuddered. “I remember being so shocked when I overheard a conversation between her and my mother when I was little.”
“So she divorced him?”
“No. He died in an accident. I’m not sure how exactly, but I think it was related to some kind of construction. Then she met my grandfather several years later. I think she was thirty by then. Although he wasn’t Native American, I know he really loved her. Even so, she was very wounded by then.”
“Poor thing.”
“As a result, she always led a very cautious life—and taught me to do the same.” Sunny sighed.
“Okay, I’m starting to get it. Hey, do you think your grandmother noticed that you looked like her mother?”
“Probably so.” Sunny considered this. “And that might explain the overprotection or her heightened concern about me making bad choices—or why she had such a fear of me drinking. She might’ve thought I was going to turn out like her mom. Who knows? Maybe I would’ve.”
“Wow. That’s a heavy load to grow up with, Sunny.”
“But I know she did that because she loved me. And she sacrificed a lot to get me through college, always putting my academics over everything else. Without her pushing me, I might’ve given up a couple of times. So don’t get me wrong. I really do love her.”
“I know you do.”
“But her influence? I suppose it might’ve had a negative impact on my life as well.” Although this was true, it was still hard to admit.
“Not in regard to money.” Aubrey chuckled. “I’m still in shock over the fact you’ve never used a credit card. Do you even have a debit card?”
“Of course.”
“I think your grandmother sounds like a cool lady. I grew up in exactly the opposite way. My parents gave me way too much freedom, never taught me much about finances, and acted like being on the Round-Up court was more important than anything.”
“And you’re still compensating for that,” Sunny observed. “Do yo
u think we’ll spend our whole lives trying to overcome our upbringing?”
Aubrey laughed. “I sure hope not.”
Still, as Sunny drove east, admiring the constantly changing scenery that moved from rain forest to a dryer climate, she wondered. She knew from years of study that the influence from environmental factors was nearly as strong as the predestined influence of genetics. But what if the environmental influence was at war with genetics? What then?
Chapter Six
The Columbia Gorge was spectacular, with the Columbia River slicing through an enormous, rolling hill canyon, the blue sky with white clouds, and all the light and shadows. At first she’d been a little overwhelmed at the hugeness of it—the vast barrenness. But before long, she realized that a part of her resonated with it. Those rolling, grassy hills were strangely familiar, as if she’d been here before.
“Bighorn sheep!” Aubrey cried, pointing to the right.
Sunny’s gaze darted over to several animals grazing rather close to the freeway—they were bighorn sheep! “Wow!” she exclaimed, cautiously turning her attention back to the road.
“When I was a girl, my dad would offer a prize to whoever spotted a bighorn on our way to Portland. He probably just wanted to keep us kids busy and quiet.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“There were three of us then. Jeremy, my older brother, Lorena, and me.”
“Then?”
“Lorena died.”
Sunny glanced at Aubrey. “I’m sorry.”
Aubrey nodded. “Yeah, me too.”
“Were you two close?”
“Not really. As a kid, I could never match up to her. I guess I was jealous too. Then we went our separate ways.” She sighed. “It’s not that I didn’t like her, or love her. I did. But we were so different. I still feel guilty about it.”
“How did she die?”
“Breast cancer.”
“Oh.”
“She found out too late. She did surgery and chemo and everything, but it had already spread too far. She fought it for a couple of years, then died about four years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” The car grew quiet. Sunny couldn’t think of anything to say in response to that. She felt guilty for having been jealous before, when she’d heard that Aubrey had a sister.
“Lorena’s daughter is twelve now. Mom says my dad is already grooming her for the Round-Up court.”
“To follow in her mom’s footsteps?”
“I guess. I just hope Echo wants it as much as my dad does.” Sunny checked her rearview mirror.
“Echo is a good kid, though. I know that losing her mom was hard on her, but she’s been a little trooper.”
“You mentioned a brother?”
“Jeremy. He’s seven years older than me and has always been into the ranch. He and his wife, Holly, and their three boys live down the road from my parents. Someday the ranch will be theirs.”
“Nice that he has three sons. Are they all into ranching too?”
“So far, they seem to be. I guess time will tell.”
Sunny wanted to ask if that was normal in Aubrey’s family— handing down valuable property only to the son—but at the same time didn’t want to stir anything up. So she was quiet. Aubrey grew quiet too, and before long, Sunny realized that her friend was asleep, which was just as well. Sunny wasn’t used to this much conversation. Although it was somewhat therapeutic, it was also exhausting. The silence was welcome. And since Sunny had printed out a yahoo map, she knew that I-84 was a straight shot from Portland to Pendleton, and there was no need for Aubrey to give her directions.
It was a little before noon when Aubrey stirred. Sitting up and stretching, she looked around. “Hey, looks like we’re almost there,” she announced.
“This is beautiful country,” Sunny said. “So wide and open—like you can see forever.”
“My dad calls it ‘his ocean.’ He wouldn’t even let my mom plant rows of trees like a lot of ranchers do, because he was worried it would obstruct his views.”
“Is that Pendleton?” Sunny asked as they came up onto a slight hill that led down to a valley below.
“There she is.” Aubrey let out a hoot. “Let ‘er buck!”
Sunny felt a surprising rush as she drove down toward the town— almost a sense of having been here before. So much so that she wondered if her parents might’ve made a trip here when she was very young. It would make sense. Still, she didn’t have a conscious memory of that.
“What do you think?” Aubrey asked after they had exited the freeway and were driving through the town.
“I think I like it. It feels like an old-fashioned sort of place, like what you’d see in an old TV sitcom.”
“You mean like Mayberry,” Aubrey teased.
“I’m sure it’s bigger than Mayberry.”
Aubrey directed Sunny toward the downtown section, explaining that the town hadn’t changed too much since she was a kid. “Actually, I don’t think it’s changed a whole lot in the last hundred years. We kind of went into a slight decline during the eighties, but it started coming back to life. And wait until you see Hamley’s.”
“Hamley’s?” Sunny wondered why that sounded familiar. “Are they the saddle makers, the ones who made the prize saddles like the one Jackson Sundown won?”
“Yep. And they’ve totally redone their business these past several years. I haven’t been here for a couple of years, but I hear it’s really undergone some improvements. I thought we could have lunch there.”
“We’re going to eat in a saddle store?”
Aubrey laughed as she told Sunny where to park. “Something like that.”
As they got out of the car, the air was cool. “I thought it was going to be hot here,” Sunny said as she reached for her bag. “I didn’t bring much in the way of warmer clothes.”
“Mom said they’d been overcast and damp the past couple of days, but it’s supposed to get hot again before Round-Up. Don’t worry. Hey, where’s that cool jacket you were telling me about?”
Sunny grinned. “Okay, don’t look.” She quickly got into the back-seat, removed it from the garment bag, and slipped it on. “Tah-dah!”
“Holy guacamole, Sunny, that is a beautiful coat.” Aubrey was walking around her on the sidewalk now, really checking it out. “Wowzers, girlfriend, you better not take that off and lay it down anywhere.”
“Why not?”
“Because it would probably walk away.” She touched the bead-work. “Seriously, that’s probably a valuable piece. Keep an eye on it. You never know during Round-Up. People get crazy.” She pointed to an old brick building with display windows filled with western wear, saddles, blankets, hats, and jewelry. “And this is Hamley’s. Let’s check it out.” Aubrey led the way and was barely in the door when someone greeted her.
“Aubrey Lowenstein,” a dark-haired woman said, “how long has it been?”
“About three years, I think.” Aubrey glanced around the well-stocked store. “Wow, this place looks better than ever.”
“Well, we’re just trying to be ready for Round-Up. It’s a big—” The woman stopped herself to stare at Sunny, or, rather, Sunny’s jacket. “Where did you get that buckskin coat?” she asked with wide eyes.
Aubrey gave Sunny a quick introduction to her old friend Jeanette, then Sunny explained how the jacket had been in her family for quite a long time.
“It’s obviously an heirloom and handmade.” Jeanette actually put on her glasses to examine it more closely. “That beadwork looks old.”
“It was her great-grandmother’s,” Aubrey offered. “Probably about a hundred years old and—”
“Yes,” Sunny said quickly, worried that Aubrey was about to spill the Sundown beans. “My grandmother managed to save it all these years. She grew up on the Umatilla Reservation, then later moved to Portland.”
“It’s a beautiful garment. You’re lucky to still have it.”
“And you’ll never guess why
we’re here,” Aubrey told Jeanette. “For Round-Up?”
“Well, yes, but more than that.” Aubrey grinned proudly. “Sunny and I are modeling for the Pendleton catalog, and they’re going to shoot some of it in town.”
“That’s right. I heard they’re going to do some of it right here tomorrow morning, before we open up.”
Aubrey nodded. “Anyway, I wanted to show Sunny around. Then we’re going to get some lunch. My mom said you guys have a full restaurant now.”
“We do.” Jeanette pointed toward some doors. “And a coffee shop too.” She nodded to Sunny. “Nice to meet you.” And then Aubrey led Sunny on a tour of a store that was much, much more than just a saddle shop.
“What a beautiful store,” Sunny said when the tour ended. “I feel like I barely even saw it. Clothing, jewelry, boots, hats, belts, blankets…and those saddles. They were so beautiful they made me want a horse.”
Aubrey laughed. “Have you ever been on a horse?”
Sunny sadly shook her head. “No. I never even had a dog.” “Well, I’m sure we can find you a nice docile horse if you want to give it a try. Not that I’d recommend it, mind you. But it’s a free country. And my mom’s got a sweet mare that never hurt a fly.”
Next, Aubrey led them over to what appeared to be a restaurant, just past a coffee shop—all of which seemed to be connected to the Hamley’s building. Aubrey explained this was the new addition, although it all appeared to have been built to match the style of the older building. Inside the restaurant, Sunny admired the impressive woodwork, high embossed-tin ceilings, western artwork and accents, taxidermy animal heads…all giving the impression of a prosperous nineteenth-century western building.
“Is the rest of Pendleton’s architecture this well done?” Sunny asked as they were seated.
Aubrey laughed. “It’s kind of random.”
After lunch, they went over to the Pendleton Woolen Mill where, Aubrey explained, the actual Pendleton fabric was woven. Their first shoot was scheduled for here, and the tent was all set up outside. They were barely through the door, and Marsha was already giving orders. “Glad to see you could make it,” she said when she spotted them.
“Are we late?” Sunny looked at her watch with concern.
Love Finds You in Pendleton, Oregon Page 5
