Laurel’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, Laurel,” Dove said, laughing. “You should see the expression on your face. I could count on one hand the number of people who don’t know you spent the night at Ben Skeeter’s.”
“But no one is gossiping about it?” Laurel said. “No one is giving me smug little smiles and… What is going on here?”
“Laurel,” Dove said, reaching over and patting her hand, “people waited four months for this to happen and it finally did. They’re satisfied because they feel things are now as they should be. End of story.”
“But that’s not how it is, Dove,” Laurel said, her voice hushed so no one else could hear. “What I mean is… Oh, it’s so complicated, confusing and…I just…I don’t know what to do.”
“Seems to me,” Dove said, smiling, “that you already did it.”
“Don’t get cute,” Laurel said, narrowing her eyes.
“There will be no more gossip or speculation about you and Ben, Laurel,” Dove said. “Your privacy will now be respected.” She paused. “The fact that you seem rather upset says there are things you and Ben need to address and work through. I’ll listen if you want to talk, but I certainly won’t press you about it. No one will.”
Laurel nodded, then produced a small smile. “Being all grown up is a bummer sometimes, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is,” Dove said. “I’ve got to worry about how to feed a hungry Eagle if the economy of Willow Valley comes to a screeching halt because of that storm that went through.” She sighed. “Everyone is so tired of not knowing how things will go from year to year, depending on the weather. It’s such a helpless feeling, but I don’t see it ever changing.”
“I guess I’ve been gone so long I’ve forgotten how grim it can be,” Laurel said. “I’m sorry, Dove. I was thinking only of myself again.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Laurel,” Dove said. “I know that what happened between you and Ben last night was very important to you both and no doubt raised a great many questions. But you two have to look to your hearts for the answers. No one can do it for you.”
“You’re so wise,” Laurel said. “It’s obvious that you’re related to Grandfather.” She paused. “As soon as things are settled about Yazzie and Ben has some time I guess the three of us should go visit Grandfather and find out what is really going on with him.”
“Yes, we should.” Dove reached for her purse. “Well, I might as well go home and take my blankets with me. Word will spread through the rez about what happened over in Prescott. Yazzie’s whole future depends on what takes place today.”
“People’s lives can change so quickly, can’t they?” Laurel said. “It’s unsettling, frightening, when you really dwell on it.”
“Which is why,” Dove said, scooting out of the booth, “it’s better to dwell on hope and faith and believe that what is meant to be will be. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye, Dove. Hug Eagle for me.”
After Dove had left the café, Laurel stared out the window into the distance, seeing the nearly bare branches of the trees in every direction. As she watched, more leaves fell, skittered through the air and disappeared.
Dreams can be whisked away, Laurel thought, never to return, just like the autumn leaves. Someone could chase them, try to recapture them, hold fast and never again let them go, but that was impossible. Wasn’t it?
The remainder of the morning and all through the afternoon time dragged slowly by as everyone from Willow Valley and the reservation waited for word of Yazzie’s fate.
Laurel and her mother stayed at the café during the lull between the end of the lunch patrons and the dinner crowd rather than going home, so as not to miss any news of what had taken place in Prescott.
Just before six o’clock that evening Cadillac came bursting through the door of the restaurant. There were no tourists in the café at that moment, so Cadillac stood near the far end of the counter to share what he knew with everyone present.
“Sheriff Skeeter fixed things real fine for Yazzie,” Cadillac said, obviously enjoying being in the spotlight. “Yep, just fine. Now you see, Yazzie didn’t have a clue how to sell that stuff he took from the summer houses, so he stashed it in a cave in the mountains at the far side of the rez and covered it all with tarps.
“So Ben Skeeter told the judge that everything would be returned to who it belonged to. Then he did a big talking thing about how Yazzie had never been in trouble before and just messed up this one time…or something like that there and how he, that’s the sheriff, you understand, would be checking on Yazzie all the time and how Yazzie was a fine boy and on and on, saying father kind of things like Yazzie was his very own son.
“Anyway, that judge person gave Yazzie a good scolding and said he’d better not get in any more trouble and how lucky he was to be having a sheriff in his corner and a mama who loved him and all.
“The judge told Yazzie to return that junk he took and do one hundred hours of community service divided between town here and the rez. The judge said to wait until Yazzie had the cast off the arm Eagle busted for him so that Yazzie’s community service would be sweatin’ kind of work that would take two hands and a strong back.
“There you go,” Cadillac said. “Yazzie is home with his mama, and Ben Skeeter did a fine job in Prescott in front of that judge. Now, don’t go asking me a bunch of questions about the whole thing because I’m done talking for today and tomorrow put together. Sheriff Skeeter is headin’ over this way to have him some dinner, so you can pester the daylights out of him if you want to.”
Cadillac then placed one arm across his stomach and the other along his back and actually bowed to his audience before turning and hurrying out the door. A cheer went up from everyone there, smiles and slaps on the backs exchanged, and Laurel rushed to hug her mother.
“Yazzie is going to be all right,” Laurel said. “Oh, thank God.”
“And Ben Skeeter,” Jane said, smiling. “Sounds like he did far more than the attorney assigned to Yazzie. Bethany must be so relieved. And I hope Yazzie understands how close he came to destroying his future. Oh, what foolish choices we all make at times.” She paused. “Don’t write Ben up a ticket when he comes for his dinner. That meal is compliments of the Windsong Café.”
Laurel nodded and smiled just as another cheer went up accompanied by applause as Ben entered the building. He hesitated a moment, surprised at the reaction he had caused, then shook his head slightly.
“Cadillac,” he said, “was here already.” He nodded to those present, then slid into the first booth, setting his Stetson next to him on the bench with a weary sigh.
Laurel hurried over to stand next to him.
“Oh, Ben,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “You did so much for Yazzie today. From what Cadillac told us, you were wonderful.”
Ben chuckled. “Whatever. It worked, and that’s what matters. I’m going to be the one to keep track of Yazzie’s community service hours and make the assignments as to what he’s to do after his arm heals.”
“Cadillac said you sounded like a father when you were speaking of Yazzie,” Laurel said. “I can believe that. You’d be a fabulous father.”
“Well, at the moment I’m just a starving man,” Ben said, dragging both hands down his face. “Whew. This has been one very long day. I was so afraid the judge would sentence Yazzie to some time in the detention center over there, but everything is going to be fine. Thanks to Eagle. And thanks to you knowing how to get through to Eagle.”
“This happy ending has nothing to do with me,” Laurel said. “How does beef stew, salad, corn bread and cherry pie sound? My mother says it’s compliments of the Windsong Café for what you did today.”
“That’s very nice of her, and the menu you clicked off will be perfect. Bring it on.”
The promised meal was soon set in front of Ben, who inhaled the delicious aromas.
“Can you sit?” he said to Laurel.
>
She glanced around the café, seeing that everything was under control, then settled opposite Ben in the booth. He started to eat the steaming-hot food.
“Mmm,” he said.
“Should I call Dove with the news about Yazzie?” Laurel said. “Or do you think she and Eagle have heard by now?”
“I stopped by their place after dropping off Yazzie and Bethany,” Ben said between bites. “Eagle smiled like a little kid on Christmas morning.” He paused. “It took a lot of courage for Eagle to go after Yazzie last night and confront him like he did. Eagle really is a very mature young man.”
“Dove raised him and the twins well,” Laurel said, “when she was hardly more than a child herself.”
“Yeah, but it wore her out,” Ben said. “She says her days of being a mother are over when Eagle joins the Army in the spring.”
“She told me that, too,” Laurel said, folding her hands loosely on top of the table. “I think that’s very sad. But then again, Dove isn’t in love with anyone at the moment, so she could change her mind about the subject in the future. She might meet someone, fall in love and want to have her soul mate’s baby. Could happen.”
“Or not,” Ben said. “She sure sounded adamant about it when we were chatting about kids one day last year. I was saying I’d always wanted a houseful and she was saying she’d already raised her houseful and that was that. I do believe I’m ready for that pie you spoke of, Ms. Laurel.”
“Coming right up, Sheriff Skeeter,” she said, smiling as she scooted out of the booth.
As recently as last year, she mused as she cut Ben a huge slice of pie, Ben had told Dove that he would like to have a bunch of kids. He’d always felt that way, ever since they were young and making plans for their future together. Ben would be such a caring, totally involved father. He would even change diapers and… Oh, stop. This sort of thinking was foolish, served no sensible purpose whatsoever.
When Laurel returned to Ben’s table with the pie, she saw that a couple had taken her seat and were chattering away about Ben helping Yazzie. She placed the dessert in front of Ben, came back again to refill his coffee cup, then wandered away, ending up behind the counter, wiping off what was already clean.
“Ben is the hero of the moment,” Jane said, appearing at Laurel’s side. “He doesn’t look too comfortable about all the attention he’s getting.”
“No, he isn’t,” Laurel said. “But he’s very patient about it because he understands why it’s happening and knows it will be old news when something else takes its place.”
“I learned a great deal about Navajo patience from your father,” Jane said. “About quiet acceptance of how things are and about what can be changed and what can’t.”
Laurel frowned. “Am I supposed to be getting a message here?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jane said, raising her eyebrows. “Are you? Think about it.”
“Mother…”
“I have work to do in the kitchen,” Jane said and walked away, leaving her daughter glaring at her back.
As soon as Ben finished his pie and coffee, he was on his feet, ready to escape from the attention he was receiving.
Outta here, he thought, settling his Stetson on his head. Enough was enough. He’d head for home, put his feet up and relax. Alone.
He looked over to the counter where Laurel was chatting with one of the shop owners.
Last night, he thought, had been fantastic, beyond words to describe it. The problem was that because it had taken place, it emphasized that tonight he was going home to an empty house and would sleep alone in his big bed. Laurel wouldn’t be there. Damn.
Ben went down the hallway a bit and poked his head into the kitchen.
“Thanks for the delicious dinner, Jane,” he said. “It was great and I appreciate it.”
“You deserved it after what you did for Yazzie and Bethany,” she said, crossing the large room to stand in front of him. “Everyone is grateful, Ben.”
“Yeah, well, it’s just an emotional bandage for Yazzie. He’ll make amends for what he did, but it won’t solve the real problem. He wants off the rez and away from here, and there’s no easy answer as to how he can do that.”
“What about the Army?” Jane said. “Like Eagle?”
“Yazzie sees that as just another bunch of people waiting to tell him what to do,” Ben said, frowning. “He doesn’t want any part of it. It’s no wonder there’s such a problem with alcohol abuse on the rez. There are so many who feel trapped out there with no way to improve their lives or… Whoa. Listen to me. I’m really getting on my soapbox here. I’m going home and shutting up.”
“Do you know what’s sad, Ben?” Jane said, wrapping her hands around her elbows. “Jimmy used to go on and on, saying very much what you just did. And here we are all these years later and the problem is still there. No answers have been found.”
Ben smiled. “Well, that’s depressing as hell.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Jane said, matching his smile.
“Somebody will figure out a solution, someday,” Ben said. “I hope. Thanks again for the fine meal.”
“You bet.”
Ben walked back to the front of the café just as Laurel came around the counter.
“Good night, Laurel,” he said, touching his fingertips to the brim of his Stetson. “Is everything still all right with you?” About last night? “You know what I mean?”
About last night? Laurel thought.
“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” she said, smiling. “Thank you for asking.”
“Did you think about what I said about—” Ben glanced around and lowered his voice “—living in the present and continuing to see each other? Did you, Laurel? Think about it?”
“I need more time to…to think about it.”
“Sure,” Ben said, nodding. “The last thing I want to do is pressure you. Well, I’m going home now. See ya.”
“See ya.”
Neither moved or hardly breathed as they looked directly into each other’s eyes. Hearts began to beat in rapid tempos and heat coursed through their bodies like a rushing river out of control. Memories of the lovemaking they’d shared the previous night flitted enticingly in their mental visions. A pulse beat wildly in Ben’s temple, and Laurel’s lips parted slightly.
“Beggin’ your pardon there, Sheriff Skeeter,” Billy said, causing both Ben and Laurel to jerk at the sudden noise, “but could you get on with the kissing thing so I can pay my check, ’cause right now Miss Laurel she don’t even know I’m standing here shuffling from one foot to the other. ’Kay?”
“Oh, dear heaven,” Laurel said, dropping her face into her hands.
“You’re absolutely right, Billy,” Ben said, shoving his Stetson up with his thumb.
“He is?” Laurel said, raising her head to stare at Ben with wide eyes.
“Oh, yes, Miss Laurel,” Ben said. “He is. Let it not be said that Sheriff Benjamin Skeeter compromised the fine, fine reputation of the Windsong Café. The customer comes first, mustn’t be kept waiting. Thank you for pointing that out, Billy.”
“Well, sure thing,” Billy said, appearing extremely pleased with himself. “Glad to help.”
“Therefore,” Ben said, framing Laurel’s face in his hands.
“But…” Laurel said.
“Shh,” Ben said.
Ben captured her lips in a searing kiss, then stepped back and tugged his Stetson low on his forehead. He spun around and headed for the door as Laurel stared after him in shock, her face flushed a pretty pink.
She attempted to ignore the fact that Ben Skeeter left the Windsong Café to the sound of cheers and applause, just as he’d received when he’d entered.
Chapter Nine
Laurel was not scheduled to work at the café the next day, so she spent the morning giving the house a thorough cleaning. She then prepared a casserole that would be ready to pop in the oven when her mother arrived home later, deciding Jane might like a chance to be waited o
n rather than having to cook.
She had just finished a lunch of a sandwich and a cup of soup when the telephone rang.
“Hello?” she said into the receiver of the wall phone in the kitchen.
“It’s Ben. I called the café and your mother said you weren’t working today. Listen, Dove is here at the station. Are you free to come over?”
“Yes, but what’s wrong?” Laurel said, her grip on the receiver tightening.
“We need to talk about Grandfather, Laurel,” Ben said. “Now.”
“Oh,” Laurel said, pressing one hand to her forehead. “Oh, dear. I’m on my way, Ben.”
When Laurel rushed into Ben’s office at the station, Dove was sitting in one of the chairs opposite the desk with a tissue pressed to her nose. She had obviously been crying.
Ben was in his chair behind his desk, a deep frown on his face.
“Dove?” Laurel pulled the other chair close to Dove’s. “What is it? What’s happened to Grandfather?” She looked at Ben. “Ben, what is going on?”
Ben sighed and leaned forward, folding his arms on top of the desk.
“Dove went by to check on Grandfather,” he said, “and there was smoke coming out of the pipe at the top of the center of Grandfather’s hogan.”
“His…hogan?” Laurel said, feeling the color drain from her face. “He left his trailer and moved into his hogan?”
“Yes,” Dove said, then sniffled. “I was so upset when I saw the smoke I didn’t stay and attempt to talk to him. I just drove straight here. Oh, God, Laurel, you know what this means. We all do.”
Laurel nodded as she struggled against threatening tears.
“Grandfather…Grandfather,” Dove said, a sob catching in her throat, “is dying. He moved out of his trailer because he knows that there are so many Navajos on the rez that won’t enter, let alone live in, a place where someone has died because they’re frightened of the chendi.”
“The evil spirit from the dead,” Laurel said softly. “Grandfather is making certain that someone will be able to make a home in his trailer after he… I don’t want to believe that he’s…” She shook her head.
A Wedding in Willow Valley (Willow Valley Women) Page 11
