by Erin Johnson
“I remember now. My pa shot a javelina once . . .” Grace swallowed hard, remembering her father’s triumphant grin as he’d brought it home. “Ma had to cook it all day in a pit, but it tasted good. Like pork.”
Joe’s jaw tightened. “Some people do eat them, but —” he began.
“I just never knew what they looked like — or that they were so stinky!” Grace exclaimed. “I might not have eaten it if I had known.”
“Your pa must have skinned it right away, taken off the musk gland on its back. That’s what makes them smell so disgusting.” Joe glanced off in the direction the javelina had fled. “He did well to get one, though. They’re hard to kill because their tough hide can be pierced in only a few places.” He shook his head. “Not that you’d ever need to know that.”
Grace shivered thinking about getting caught in that snorting pack with their sharp tusks. “But what if they attacked?”
“Don’t worry. They won’t.”
“But what if they did?” Grace persisted. They certainly didn’t look harmless.
Joe pursed his lips. “Never let anything go, do you?” he said wryly but then continued. “Best way to defend yourself is to get them behind the collar, just above the front leg.” He made a circle with his thumbs and forefingers. “They have a spot about that big to hit. But they’ll go down right away if they’re hit in that place.”
“What if you miss?”
“They can stay alive for hours. But, like I said, you don’t need to worry about all that.” Joe motioned for Grace to move ahead of him onto the trail. “We should get back for the feast.”
They walked to the village in companionable silence. Inside, Grace was elated at how well she had done on her first session of training. But she still had to learn how to use the bow and arrow, tomahawk, knife, and rifle.
She would need to know everything she could in order to take on Elijah Hale and his pack of murderers.
CHAPTER 13
The days began to pass more quickly.
Bullet was on the mend, but Cheveyo warned Grace that he still couldn’t be ridden until he was fully healed.
Though she was impatient to be off, Grace was surprised at how much the village had come to feel like home. However, one time of day was always hard. A lump rose in Grace’s throat whenever she watched steam rising from cooking pots as women bent over the fires.
They reminded her so much of Ma and that last pot of stew.
She turned away but smiled as she saw that Sequoyah was heading toward her. The two of them had become fast friends.
“Are you going into the woods with Joe again?” Sequoyah asked.
Grace nodded. After she’d confessed to Joe how painful it was to watch the village families eat their meals together, he had suggested they train during mealtimes. He’d bring some food, and they would eat while Grace practiced. She was grateful he hadn’t made a big deal about it, even though she had a feeling the others — Tarak especially — didn’t like him going off instead of eating with them.
A mischievous grin spread across Sequoyah’s face. “You know what everyone say about you and Joe? They think you are . . .” She wrapped her hands around her body and hugged herself tightly, raising her eyebrows.
Grace’s cheeks grew hot. “We are not. He’s teaching me how to use a knife, how to stalk prey, and —”
Sequoyah’s smile broadened. “But you like him?” She puckered her lips and made a kissing sound. “You want him to do this?”
“No! Of course not. I just want to learn to survive.” And to learn more about how to track and how to sneak up on the Guiltless Gang without them knowing she was there. She had come to realize that was the only way she’d manage to take them down. One by one, without them suspecting. But she’d stopped saying it to Joe or the others, because they all just gave her lectures either about how foolish she was or about how she needed to forgive and let God — or Usen — deal with revenge.
Just then, Joe’s voice came from behind her. “Hello, Sequoyah. Ready to go, Grace?”
Grace’s whole face flamed. Had he heard Sequoyah’s comments? Seen her kissing motions? She didn’t want Joe thinking she wished he would kiss her.
Or did she?
She shook off those thoughts, bidding Sequoyah a rather brusque goodbye. When hurt flared in her friend’s eyes, Grace softened it with a gentle, “I’ll see you later.”
Sequoyah’s face relaxed into a smile. “You two have fun.”
“Oh, we will,” Joe said breezily. “We always do.”
Grace kept quiet. Now he’d made it sound like Sequoyah’s suspicions were right. But did he mean it?
“Enjoy your meal,” she said quickly, waving to Sequoyah and turning to go with Joe.
“Be careful,” Sequoyah called.
“I’m always careful,” Joe said with a grin.
“No.” Sequoyah caught up with them again and her tone turned low and urgent. “Tarak is very angry. He says over and over you should not teach a white woman our way.” She laid a hand on Joe’s arm. “He will try to make trouble.”
Joe studied her tense face for a moment. “Thanks for the warning, Sequoyah. I’ll keep watch.”
Sequoyah nodded, but her shoulders remained tense. “I must help with the meal.” She scurried away.
Joe watched her go, a worried look in his eyes.
“Would Tarak try to hurt you?” Grace asked.
Joe sucked on his lower lip, a scowl on his face. “I’m not worried about what he might do to me. I could take him in a fight. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Don’t. I’m not afraid of him.” After all, she planned to track down a gang of murderers. Compared to that, one angry Ndeh wasn’t that scary. “Come on, let’s go.”
The two of them set off into the woods. First they checked the traps Joe had taught Grace how to set. Along the way, he showed her some edible plants. He paused and looked at her — she knew what was coming. “So you won’t make the same mistake again.”
He made a show of cowering away as she playfully punched him on the arm. They both laughed, but the stubborn part of her was still a little annoyed. Couldn’t he let her forget it? She was tired and starving at the time. If she hadn’t been so upset, she might have been more careful. But the truth was she hadn’t known the plant was dangerous. If she planned to survive, she’d need all the knowledge she could get.
Next, Joe had her practice some tracking. Grace enjoyed tracking, but she had trouble remaining motionless for what felt like hours. When Joe tracked her, she never heard him approach, but when it was her turn, he always sensed her presence even if she thought she had been completely silent. But she had become much more skilled with the weapons. She had shot a few animals for meals but let Joe take the credit back at camp. She didn’t want Tarak to know how fast she was learning.
During their practice, after making two good kills in a row, she was bursting with pride at how good she was getting at hunting. Before she could check herself, Grace made the mistake of saying, “I’ll soon be ready to take down the Guiltless Gang.”
Joe stopped dead and turned to her. “Grace, I thought you’d given up on that. I’ve been teaching you survival skills. Not skills to hurt people.”
Grace stared at the ground. “I know . . . I know you and Cheveyo want me to forgive and forget, but I can’t. I’ve tried, but I just can’t let this go.” She looked up at him. “Can you forget what happened to your father? If you knew who those bandits were, you’d go after them, wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know who they are.” The flatness of Joe’s tone discouraged any more probing. “And the Ndeh taught me to let go of the past.”
“But you understand how I feel, don’t you?”
“I know what it’s like to be lonely even in a crowd. To ache with an emptiness that nothing can touch, that nothing can fi
ll, but —”
“And if you had the chance, wouldn’t you want to see your family’s murderers hanged?”
When Joe didn’t respond, Grace clenched her fists. “Well, I do. And I’ll never give up until I see every one of them brought to justice.”
Disappointment filled Joe’s eyes. “I worry about you and this desire for revenge. I hoped staying here would allow you to let go.” His voice took on a warning tone. “Be careful about staring into the darkness for too long, Grace. You might lose yourself forever.”
Grace kept silent now, but her heart sank. She thought he would understand. The only thing she cared about was her family’s honor, and she didn’t need any more lectures about forgiveness.
She exhaled hard and decided to change the subject. “What was it like growing up with the Ndeh?”
Maybe she would find out how Joe could have possibly forgiven his father’s killers just from spending time with the tribe.
“I don’t remember much of the first few years. They’re a blur. I was angry and confused. I threw myself into learning every skill I could in case I was ever attacked.” He looked at Grace. “A lot like you’re doing now.”
Grace felt a glimmer of hope — maybe he did understand. “You learned well,” she said.
“Not as quickly as you. But I was younger. And in pain.” Joe tilted his head to one side. “But Cheis treated me like a son, and over time, I healed.” Moisture glinted in his eyes. “Not that you ever forget. But it does get easier with time.”
Grace’s pain was too fresh, too deep. She wasn’t sure it would ever heal.
Joe stared off into the distance, and his words sounded dreamy, almost as if he were talking to himself. “I guess my first clear memories with the Ndeh are of my initiation into manhood . . .”
Grace nodded for him to continue.
“Ndeh boys start training when they’re small, so I had a lot of catching up to do. We rose before dawn, raced up the mountain, then jumped into the icy stream.” He smiled wryly. “At least, they did. I trailed far behind even the youngest boys.”
Grace could picture him as a young boy, struggling to keep up with the others. She smiled.
“But by the time I was ten, I could keep up with the best of them. I even outdistanced Tarak. He never forgave me for that either,” he said, shaking his head.
Grace tensed at the mention of Tarak’s name. “Seems like he doesn’t forgive anyone.”
The gaze Joe turned on her pierced her heart, and she hung her head. So maybe Tarak wasn’t the only one who couldn’t forgive. But at least her anger was justified.
Silence stretched between them until Grace could stand it no longer. “So you became a hunter, a warrior, by running and jumping into the water?”
Joe cleared his throat. “We also learned to use weapons. And they taught us a secret language.” When Grace looked at him questioningly, he shook his head. “No, I can’t share it with you. It’s for men only. Tarak worries that I might tell you, but I won’t betray the trust the Ndeh placed in me — not on that.”
Grace was curious, but she wouldn’t ask Joe to break his vow. “I understand.”
“Anyway, that year I made my first raid —”
“A raid?”
“To be a warrior, we had to do four raids on enemy settlements.”
“And you did it? Sounds dangerous.”
Joe nodded and lifted the leather string around his neck. A wooden hoop dangled from it, along with four turquoise stones and a small leather pouch that bounced against his chest as he ran it through his fingers.
“As you can see, I have my warrior’s necklace for strength and protection,” he said. “And I got my name, Ahote, because I like to wander.”
Grace studied him. He seemed so much a part of the Ndeh. She wondered if the name Restless One really fit him. “But the Ndeh are your family now?”
Joe was quiet for a moment. “I’m with them, but not of them.”
She understood the feeling of distance. Grace hadn’t been there as long as he had, but she knew what it felt like to be an outsider. Maybe Joe understood more than she gave him credit for. “But the boys who went to war with you — they must be like brothers now.” Except Tarak, perhaps.
“I’m close to most of them.” Joe’s face grew sad. “But not all of us made it back.”
“Parents let their children go, knowing they might die?” Grace was horrified.
“It’s a harsh life in the wild. If a boy doesn’t make it then, he won’t survive later.”
“But that’s awful.”
Joe pinned her with a stare. “Is it any more awful than what you’re planning to do?”
Grace averted her eyes as they clouded with anger. She didn’t want to get into another argument. She wasn’t planning to kill innocent children. The Guiltless Gang were evil men. There was a big difference.
“Out there, alone for so long, I had a lot of time to think. To face my inner demons. To wrestle with my pain. I came back changed.”
Grace glanced at him.
“I learned that anger and revenge eat away at you. They rob you of peace,” he added.
She sighed. “Guess I’ll have to learn it for myself.” Grace picked up a tomahawk.
Joe gave her a knowing look. “Ready for more practice?”
“Definitely.” And ready to stop hearing lectures on forgiveness.
Joe showed her several times, but Grace still struggled to throw with enough strength to get the heavy stone head to fly through the air with the right arc to hit a target. She tried and tried, but instead of getting better, her throws only got worse.
“Let’s take a break and try something else for a while,” Joe suggested.
But Grace was determined to master this. “I’m going to keep trying until I get it right.”
Joe stepped up behind her. “Then maybe we need to adjust your grip or follow-through. I’m going to put my hand on your arm and do it with you. Maybe we can figure out what’s wrong.” He moved close to her back and fitted his arm under hers. The warmth of his body pressed against hers startled Grace so much that she almost dropped the tomahawk, and she went rigid in his arms.
“If you’re always this stiff when you’re throwing, it’s no wonder you miss.” Joe’s breath against her ear set her pulse racing and sent shivers sliding down her spine.
“I’m . . . I’m not always —” Grace drew in a breath and tried to relax.
“Show me how you lift your arm.”
Grace’s muscles wouldn’t cooperate. Her arm lifted jerkily.
Joe chuckled. “You’ll have to do it more smoothly than that.”
“I’m just . . . not used to having someone behind me.”
“Relax and pretend I’m not here.”
That was impossible, but Grace tried to clear her mind and get into the throw. Still, she let go too early, and the weapon plummeted to the ground a few feet in front of them.
Joe sighed.
“I wasn’t ready,” Grace said defensively.
“I could tell.” He released her and went to pick up the tomahawk. “Let’s try again.”
Though they tried several more times, Grace’s body refused to cooperate. With Joe’s arm under hers and his body so close, she could barely breathe, let alone concentrate. How could someone who could make her so angry make her feel like this too? And worst of all, Sequoyah’s comments kept taunting her.
Grace didn’t really want Joe to kiss her, did she? Of course not.
But she couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to have Joe’s arms around her, his lips pressed to hers . . .
She blushed and shook the thought from her head. Focus, she told herself.
CHAPTER 14
The next day, Grace saw Sequoyah heading toward the medicine lodge. Most of the young men had gone off
hunting, and once again Joe had refused to let Grace accompany them to try out her skills.
Instead, she hurried after Sequoyah, needing to find a distraction from her annoyance at being excluded again. And from the strange new thoughts she was having about Joe . . .
“Sequoyah, wait,” Grace called. “Where are you going?”
Her friend stopped and waited for Grace to catch up. “Cheveyo is teaching me to be a shaman. I will learn about healing.”
“Cheveyo did a wonderful job healing my arm.” Grace held it up. It was still scarred, but it was much better. “I’d like to see what you’re learning. May I watch?”
Sequoyah smiled at Grace’s eagerness but tempered it by warning, “This is sacred. I will ask Cheveyo if it is all right.”
When they reached the lodge, Sequoyah talked to Cheveyo in rapid-fire words. At first he shook his head, but Sequoyah’s voice turned pleading.
After some argument back and forth, Cheveyo turned to Grace. “You cannot watch.”
Disappointment flooded through her. She turned to leave but Sequoyah grasped her arm. “You stay.”
Grace shook her head. “Not if Cheveyo says no.”
“He says you cannot watch. You must do. You must learn to heal.”
“You mean he’s willing to teach me to heal too?”
When Sequoyah nodded, Grace hugged her. Sequoyah looked surprised at first, then she hugged her back.
“Thank you!” Grace said, smiling at them both.
Cheveyo’s normally stern face split into a grin. “You must work hard.”
“I will. I promise,” Grace said quickly.
She hoped she could learn what ointment he had used to heal her blistered hands. She already knew he had put willow bark on her infected arm. Having the skills to take care of herself and Bullet would be really important when she set out on her own.
Cheveyo sent them out to gather several plants.
Sequoyah hurried along with Grace at her side. “I will show you where zagosti grows.”
Grace helped harvest the weed that Sequoyah said made old people’s blood flow through them more easily. After they had also dug up osha root, they returned to the medicine lodge, where Cheveyo showed them how to grind the osha root with tobacco.
