Thunder In Her Body

by C. B. Stanton

  There was no need for a trial or even a grand jury investigation. The sheriff’s office called the deaths complete and total self-defense. Lynette had shot Beverly after mutilation and threat of imminent death. Blaze killed Patrick in defense of himself and his wife. It was a clear case. The perpetrators had committed, at a minimum, five assaults with deadly weapons, two attempted murders, unlawful detention, kidnapping, and attempted extortion among other things . The incident at Whitehall Ranch was front page news for days in the local newspaper. That was the most excitement the sleepy village had experienced in months. Baskets of fruits and flowers immediately arrived at the hospital while Lynette and Aaron were hospitalized and, thereafter, at the ranch from well-wishers and friends of both Blaze and Aaron Few people had gotten to know Lynette well, but she was Blaze’s wife and in Aaron’s home, therefore, she was considered one of them. Half of the flowers had her name on the cards. A few simply read, “To Mr. Snowdown’s Wife.”

  No one went into town for awhile. Clare took a week off from her job in Austin and stayed at the ranch, nursing the three. Blaze hovered around Lynette knowing how close he came to loosing his precious wife. Sad though it was that he had to kill the only offspring that was his for sure, he and Lynette together, fighting for their lives, had rid themselves of years of trouble. Blaze had the terrible task of telling Merrilynn and Trapper what had happened. Trapper remarked that his mother and brother were better off dead, and he would not attend any services for them. Merrilynn came home briefly, but it was to make sure that her Papa was handling things as well as possible, and to console Lynette. As the closest living relative, it was Merrilynn’s decision as to the disposition of the bodies. She and Blaze agreed to cremation with the ashes to be buried somewhere, far away. They did not want those ashes scattered anywhere near Crystal Bend or Asombroso. That was Lynette’s mountain!

  While all three victims were still in the County hospital on that horrible night, Blaze and Aaron talked in hushed voices late into the night.

  “How did you know to turn around and come back home?” Aaron asked, from his hospital bed.

  “I don’t know,” Blaze answered pensively. “A voice - something like a voice; a sound, told me that Lynette was calling me. I heard it in my head, then there were words in front of me, in front of the truck,” he said. “Words written in the air. I know that sounds crazy, but that was it,” he admitted, shaking his head. He looked over at the other bed where his wife laid, under sedation, sleeping as if nothing had ever happened.

  “I have no life without her, Aaron,” he said as he turned toward her. Reaching down, he lifted her tiny hand and placed it into his. From his shirt pocket he pulled out her simple gold wedding band which the nurse had cleaned and handed him before she went into surgery. Gently, he slipped it slowly and lovingly back onto her ring finger with solemnity as he had done on their wedding day.

  “I love you, my wife,” he bent and whispered close to her ear.

  CHAPTER 31

  ¤

  The First Thanksgiving

  Blaze and Lynette spent every waking moment together from that horrid night in October. If she went to shop, he went with her. If he went to take care of business, he insisted she go with him. He was determined, in his own way, never to let her out of his sight; never to let anything bad happen to her again. She tried to convince him that she would be all right; that she was resilient enough to bounce back from the trauma, and she was, in fact, doing remarkably well. She had him to nurture, and the log cabin to finish and furnish. All she wanted to do was get on with their life together. What was done, was done. In a sad kind of way, she was glad Beverly and Patrick were dead so they couldn’t hurt Blaze anymore. For many years he’d lived with the torment of their miserable existence and how it imposed on his struggle for a decent life.

  It was Blaze who was suffering more. He had almost lost the most precious thing he possessed in this life – his wife. There was no one on this earth who understood how much she meant to him. The thought of what almost happened tortured him, and for a short while, he woke up from nightmares, grabbing Lynette to make sure she was all right. He would do anything to keep from loosing her. And to prevent that, he had to kill his son. And his wife had to kill the mother of his son. He knew within his viscera that they needed to be eliminated from this earth; he just regretted the way it had to happen.

  Lynette knew that this had to be a time for healing; they had to get the past terror up, and out of their systems. Blaze especially needed to talk. Unlike many men, he did not bottle up his feelings, he talked freely to Lynette. His feelings came more slowly now, and they often sat on the floor in the living room, he with a strong, hot cup of coffee in hand and she with a hot cup of lemon tea resting in her lap, talking. Lynette was good for him. She knew how to listen; she knew how to wait for the next thoughts. And her years as a social worker helped her, help him back to normalcy. They prayed together, and he taught her some of the ancient Apache prayers.

  For his birthday, Lynette arranged for a surprise couple’s retreat at a very private and very special spa in Sedona, Arizona. Another of those places she loved. Magical and mystical, Sedona was known around the world as one of the four energy vortexes; a metaphysical destination. He was titillated by all the professional hands-on activities. Facials, hot stone massages, herbal wraps, languid soaks in aromatic waters, soft music, foot rubs, healthy food prepared to delight the eye and heal the body, a special blend of coffee he had never tasted – which he made sure to get the name and source. It was a quiet, rejuvenating four days and as they flew back to Albuquerque, the balance of life between them, and around them, seemed restored.

  The log cabin was ready before Thanksgiving and the couple filled it with good quality, southwestern furniture they’d been selecting over the months since they returned from Alaska. Only once did they venture up to Santa Fe for some special pieces, which were shipped to them when the time was right. They tried to patronize as many local stores as possible, and did find most of the furnishings in and around Crystal Bend. They bought gorgeous art with Native themes from Mountain Ray Arts Studio on Main Road. On one side of the Great Room, they hung six paintings of Native children; the same six that Janette had in her town home back in Austin. They laid and hung a variety of authentic Native rugs, some with a Navajo pattern, others from First and Second Mesa, Hopi patterns. There were Mandelas in the hallways and Dream Catchers somewhere in each bedroom. For sure, there were no dead animals mounted on the walls!

  The owner’s suite was done in a very traditional style with heavy, cherry wood, massive four-poster bed, triple dresser and a tall armoire within which sat the large television and the bedroom controls for the home stereo system and security program. The lower part had shelves and three drawers for some of Blaze’s things. These furnishings were not in keeping with the white stucco Kiva fireplace, but they were what both Blaze and Lynette favored, so that’s what they bought. The large bed gave them a prime view through the enormous curved bay windows and their mountain was the first vision they saw as they woke each morning. At any time of the day they could watch Sierra Asombroso change her colors from their personal sanctuary.

  Lynette chose to decorate the two guest bedrooms completely different. One should reflect a feminine taste; the other a more masculine effect. Balance – always they tried to find harmony and balance in everything she and Blaze did. The walls in the more feminine bedroom were plastered and tinted in the beige adobe, Santa Fe-style. The queen-size bed she covered in a pink floral Queen Anne ruffled bedspread with double dust ruffles of pink and pale green glancing the floor. The upholstered window chair and matching hassock were covered in the same fabric. Pink and green striped chintze curtains hung in both windows and puddled onto the hardwood floor. The bed sat on a cream-colored rug with a twelve-inch wide pale green border which only covered the center of the hardwood floors. She found an old, worn chest of drawers with vertical doors, and painted it off-white herself, adding app
liqués for interest. It was a strikingly beautiful room, definitely for a girl or woman.

  The other guest room was done in a wilderness/forest theme with greens and blacks – elk and animal motifs, rustic ponderosa pine bed and a massive dark, soft leather chair with matching ottoman. Three of the walls and one-third of the fourth wall were made of honey-colored, D-cut half logs, tightly fitted with only a minimum of chinking. That created the “cabin feel” of the room. The lamps were made of a golden, translucent glass with wrought iron forest designs and the flat screen television hung on a wall that was partially covered in the same limestone rocks as the towering fireplace in the Great Room. Though there was an adequate walk-in closet in the room, Lynette put a Mexican armoire in there also to hold blankets and other comfort items. It was a comfortable room for anyone, but especially for a male person. In the original plans, that room would have French doors to the outside deck, but after what happened in October, Blaze decided that the fewer entrances to the house, the better. So they decided to use the same size double-pane windows as in the other guest room for external symmetry. Each of the guest bathrooms had double sinks, a princess tub and glass enclosed shower. Lynette had toyed with putting an individual bidet next to the toilets, but both she and Blaze laughed at the trouble it could make if there were children visiting on that side of the house!

  Their dining room table was a great find for Blaze. It was a huge one-hundred inch tall flat door from an old house in southern Arizona. With stripping of its many coats of wax and varnish, plaining on all sides, and reduction to about ninety-six inches long by fifty inches wide, it made an excellent, deep golden brown table top. Finding the legs or base to set it on was a joint endeavor for him and Lynette. They finally settled on a double base shaped like the larger side of a harp with curled footing. It was a grand table set with four high-back Santa Fe step-style wooden chairs on each long side, a master’s arm chair on one end, matched by a mistresses arm chair on the other end. They wanted to be able to seat at least ten people at any one time and with chairs tightly placed together, the table could accommodate a party of twelve. The table was anchored by a tall, Spanish oak china cabinet, one of the few pieces purchased in Santa Fe. The dining room was without a rug, so as not to diminish the look and feel of the red Spanish tiled floor.

  Blaze wanted leather couches in the Great Room, so they compromised and had two leather ones, and a cloth sofa in a sturdy, bold, red Indian print. Lynette didn’t particularly like sliding around on the slippery leather cushions, but if that’s what Blaze wanted, by God, they would have them. She teased him about not being able to get a good “toe hold” on the slippery couches. He joked back with her that they’d be too old to worry by the time they “christened” every piece of new furniture in their home! And it was his express intention to do just that. Blaze had a tremendous appetite for love-making and Lynette indulged his every want. In fact, with her lust for her husband, it was not long before they had tested all the furnishings as to strength and durability!

  It was an absolutely gorgeous, warm and inviting home. They planned to have the blessing of the home done over the Thanksgiving holiday, when all of the relatives would be there. The Chief Elder and Father Gibbons, would again share the honor, and responsibility, of bringing a blessing to this wonderful couple, their home, and all who entered there. Janette and her best friend Dena, shared the largest of the two guest rooms – the pink floral one; Trapper and his wife, Pepper, took the second one with the forest motif, and their sons Mike and Lawrence, took the pull-out queen sleeper sofa up in the loft, from which they were admonished not to hang. Merrilynn stayed and worked at the hospital in Galveston, so other more senior staff could have the holiday with their families. She knew she was missing something special at home, but storing up “brownie points” counted as she made her way into the surgical residency program.

  Aaron and Clare were at the original house, with his son Brian, Brian’s wife and their three children. His other son was bound to the holiday with his wife’s family, who were highly covetous of their daughter’s family time. Over the years, her family had been exceedingly demanding of her time, especially at holidays, and Aaron chose not to pressure his son for visits. When they could come, he welcomed them with open arms. When they couldn’t, he missed them, but his attitude was, es la vida – that’s life.

  Hawk and Maurice had dates out at the ranch for the holidays, and all were invited to the First Annual Snowdown’s Thanksgiving Banquet.

  Trapper button-holed his dad back in his large, new office, and wanted to discuss the killings. Blaze accommodated him to a point, but the wound was still too raw, and Trapper backed off. Trapper knew. Everybody knew, that he was not his biological child and neither was Merrilynn. But as far as father-son relationships, none could have been stronger than between these two. And the same went for him and Merrilynn. So Trapper was emboldened.

  “Dad, why don’t you and Lynette get pregnant and have another child? Yeah, you’re older than most, but you’re both still young, and I can tell you’re really knockin’ it out of the box, by the way Lynette touches you and bounces around,” he said boldly.

  “Boy…, you better hush up talking like that,” he chuckled back at his son, amused at his boldness. “You and Pepper do all the baby-gettin’,” he coaxed, laughing at the thought. There’d never been a reason to discuss Lynette’s hysterectomy with his children. That was private, so Trapper didn’t know of this impediment.

  But was it funny? Moreover, was it even possible?

  From time to time over the next few months the thought did cross Blaze’s mind. He would always have the love of Trapper and Merrilynn, because he had been their father in every sense of the word, even if his blood did not run in their veins. He knew there was more to being a father than simply being a sperm donor; and he’d fulfilled every obligation of parenting as possible, at least with these two. But deep down inside of himself, somewhere primal, there lingered the desire to have a child from his heart, from his blood – the Apache blood.

  On Christmas Eve of their first year of marriage, Blaze and Lynette laid snuggled together under a loosely woven warm throw on one of the big leather couches in the Great Room. They were warmed by a roaring fire in the massive fireplace. They watched the lights on their gorgeous Christmas tree twinkle and dance, as the strings alternated their sequences. It was somehow hypnotic. They remembered how beautiful Midnight Mass was in the Catholic Church, so they drove over to St. Francisco for that service, and were not disappointed. The hymns were well-practiced and inspirational. The incense was thick and heady and brought back memories of the little Indian altar boy who aspired to the priesthood, and the devout Catholic girl, who once thought about becoming a nun. Afterwards, they came home, toasted each other with home-made eggnog, about the only thing Lynette drank with liquor in it, and curled up on the couch again. Quiet, in love, and at peace.

  Blaze lay with his head on a plush throw-pillow and his back against the soft leather fabric with Lynette tucked in against him, warm, safe and snuggly. He wondered what it would be like for a child of his to sit under that tree, dazzled by all the bright lights. He thought about all the presents they’d buy and wrap for their little offspring. It had been a long time since he’d put a bicycle together in secret, or filled a Red Flyer wagon with gifts. He longed for the giggle of a child being pulled in that wagon. Christmases with his first wife had been fraught with tension and arguments during the holidays and he’d been robbed of the joy that the season should bring. But now, with Lynette, a wife he could not have imagined only a year ago, he was so settled, so content, and nearly complete. Trapper had sewn a seed. One that had taken root in Blaze’s heart. The only thing lacking was the sound of a child in his home again. A happy child.

  Almost a year to the day from that horrible day in October, and another year older, Blaze laid next to Lynette in their big bedroom, in the huge four-poster bed with the carved pineapple posts, under the smooth, lovely bed l
inens she’d so carefully chosen, watching the roaring fire in the Kiva fireplace. The only thought in her head was how peaceful it was with Blaze at her side.

  “When you had your hysterectomy, did they take your ovaries too?” Blaze asked out of the blue.

  Surprised by the question, but not embarrassed to answer, Lynette said, “No, that’s why I don’t have the characteristic debilitating hot flashes. Remember my little pink hormone pill?” Pausing momentarily, “ Why?” she asked.

  There was a long, thoughtful pause before Blaze answered.

  “You and everyone else in this family know that I don’t have any child from my body.” He hesitated for a long time. “I don’t want to die – I guess the better way to say it is - I don’t want my blood to dry up from this earth. We are put here to bring life. That’s part of our duty as creations of the Father,” he said solemnly.

  Her mind running ahead of his, she said, “There’s only two ways that can happen. One, you have sex with another woman and impregnate her, or two we try for in-vitro fertilization, but we’d still have to get a carrier. My uterus is gone,” she reminded him.

  Secretly, she now wished that she hadn’t needed the hysterectomy. That choice had been taken from her when she was about forty-two. The doctors couldn’t stop the hemorrhaging, try though they did with drugs, and a D&C. She had fibroids which kept her bleeding, so much so that she’d gotten anemic. When they operated, the surgeons found hidden tumors behind her ovaries, plus the others that had already been discovered. Mercifully none were malignant. If Blaze wanted a child, even at this late stage, she would have tried to give it to him. But she couldn’t.