Wild Desire (29 page)

“You can give them up so easily?”

“Are they my reason for living?”

“I would hope not.”

“You are, Runner. I willingly give up my past life for you.”

“You seem too independent to do that.”

“Yes, I am an independent person,” Stephanie said, as he rolled away from her to lie beside her.

“And in my independent logic I have made a choice,” she said matter-of-factly. “It is to marry you and be your wife. That will be my career by choice. Not because you gave me an ultimatum.”

“I believe I am smarter than to ever give you ultimatums,” he said, chuckling as he ran a hand over her hip.

“I'm never going to give you cause to even want to,” Stephanie said, rolling against him. She threw a leg over him and drew him against her. “I'm going to make you an absolutely perfect wife.”

“There are only two things missing in my happiness at this moment,” Runner said, holding her close.

“Pure Blossom,” Stephanie said sullenly. “Pure Blossom's tragic affair with Adam.” She paused and swallowed hard. “And Little Jimmy.”

“Yes, Pure Blossom,” Runner said, gazing hauntedly into the fire. “And . . . Jimmy. . . .”

 

 

Pure Blossom rode to the brink of a cliff which plunged into a chasm cut by an ancient stream. Its boulder-strewn bed held only a narrow trickle of water, more than one hundred feet below. She drew a tight rein, dismounted, and draped her horse's reins over a low limb of a cottonwood tree and went and sat down beside a stream.

Leaning over, she stared at her reflection in the water, then angrily and without control, she began pummeling her fists into the water. She had wanted to erase all signs of herself, instead she succeeded mainly in making herself look more distorted than before as the ripples played and moved on her reflection.

“I hate you!” she cried at her reflection. “Why were you ever born?”

A rattling sound that she was familiar with made her grow cold with a sudden fear. When she turned to see where the rattlesnake might be, she screamed; the rattler struck at her and sank its venom into one of her ankles.

“
E-do-tano
, no!” she shouted, as the rattlesnake scurried away from her in the dust. “I truly didn't mean it. I don't want to die!”

She grasped onto her throbbing ankle. A wave of weakness ran through her as she started to collapse onto the ground.

She closed her eyes, then blinked them open momentarily when through her veiled tears and the haziness of her blurred vision she saw a hand reaching toward her.

Caught between strong arms she smiled, for she recognized the one who had come to her rescue. She felt blessed that the color of his skin was the same as hers. Somehow, after having become enamored with Adam, she had managed to forget this handsome Navaho.

“Gray Moon?” she whispered, then floated away into a tunnel of darkness.

Chapter 32

Stephanie walked slowly toward her horse, finding it hard to leave Runner's village. She feared that if she entered that other world she had known before him, something might keep her there. Perhaps she might even be tempted to go back on her word and send the photographs back to Wichita.

She had to prove to herself that she was strong enough to withstand such temptations. She knew deep inside her heart that her love for Runner was much stronger than her need to continue dabbling in photography.

Runner stepped up beside her and lifted her into her saddle. “I will go with you and stay with you until you set things right in your life before returning,” he said as he gazed up at her with his midnight dark eyes. “As you know, word has spread about Damon Stout fleeing the law and going into hiding. It would be dangerous for you to be alone while he is free to wreak havoc on our lives.”

“I know that you feel that way, but I'll be all right,” she said, taking her reins into her hands. “You have responsibilities here. There's Pure Blossom; she hasn't returned. Don't you think that you should go and look for her to see if
she
is all right?” She rested her hand on her holstered derringer. “She is far more vulnerable than I.”

Runner turned and gazed into the distance, past his village. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “She
has
been gone for too long now,” he said, his voice drawn. Then he swung himself into his saddle and grabbed up his reins. “I will go and look for her. You will go with me. After we find her and escort her safely back to her hogan, I will then ride with you to your train.” He smiled over at her. “My woman, there is no need in arguing. This man who loves you will not let you out of his sight until Damon Stout is found and placed behind bars.”

“I love feeling so protected,” Stephanie said, returning the smile. “It's wonderful that you also feel as protective of your sister. Let's go, Runner. Let's go and find her.”

Her words had scarcely crossed her lips when, at the far side of the village, she saw a horseman arriving, a travois attached to the horse by two long poles dragging behind.

“What on earth . . . ?” Stephanie said.

“Gray Moon?” Runner whispered in surprise. He knew Gray Moon well. He was the son of Runner's father's longtime friend, Spotted Feather, who had moved to a neighboring village when he had married one of their lovely maidens. Gray Moon had, on occasion, hunted with Runner. He had come for various celebrations, and even for more quiet times to share talk and laughter with Runner and his family.

It had been awhile since Runner had seen Gray Moon. He had surmised from Gray Moon's absence that he had taken a wife, giving him responsibilities that kept him closer to home.

But now? This morning? He was arriving in a strange manner, his face solemn as he kept taking glances over his shoulder at the travois.

“Who do you think is on the travois?” Stephanie said, slipping from her saddle as Runner slid from his own.

Runner didn't take the time to respond. He broke into a run and met Gray Moon's approach. He questioned Gray Moon with his eyes, seeing too much in his silent concern that his burden must be someone who meant much to him.

Gray Moon drew a tight rein. His eyes met Runner's briefly as he dismounted and went back to the travois. “I have brought your sister to you,” he said, bending to his knees to start untying the rope that held Pure Blossom in place on the travois.

“Pure Blossom?” Runner said, panic filling his heart. He fell to his knees on the other side of the travois. His fingers trembled as he unfolded a corner of the blanket that held his sister within its warm, protective cocoon. He was too afraid to ask if she was dead. He was afraid, even, to see for himself.

When he uncovered her face and saw the thick droop of her lashes feathered out over her cheeks, her eyes closed, her breath coming in rasps, his insides grew numb and he fought back the urge to emit a loud cry of despair.

“She is not dead,” Gray Moon said, loosening the last of the rope. “But she is quite ill. I came upon her after she had been bitten by a rattlesnake.”

“Rattlesnake?” Runner said, his head spinning, knowing that few lived after an assault from a rattlesnake.

“You can feel somewhat relieved in that the wound was not a deep one,” Gray Moon said, going to kneel down beside Runner as he, too, looked at Pure Blossom's stillness. “I do not think that much venom got into her veins. I found her when the wound was fresh. I sucked the wound dry. It was then that I discovered that it was only a flesh wound. The rattler must have been a baby and unskilled at attacking victims.”

Stephanie came to the travois with Sage and Leonida, the people of the village circling around them, their eyes wide and questioning. When Leonida saw that it was Pure Blossom, she stifled a cry behind her hands and fell to her knees beside Runner.

Sage knelt by Pure Blossom's other side and hurriedly swept her into his arms. His eyes heavy with worry, he carried her to her hogan and placed her on her bed.

As Runner and Leonida walked toward Pure Blossom's hogan, Stephanie followed behind them, her eyes filled with tears. Guilt was plaguing her again. She could not help but again feel responsible, in part, for all that had happened to Runner's family. She wasn't sure if she could live with the guilt and still be a part of Runner's family.

Suddenly, she turned away from them all and ran blindly toward her horse. She felt that it was best for all concerned if she left and never returned. If Pure Blossom survived the snake bite, she might never get over her feelings for Adam. Every time Pure Blossom would look at Stephanie she might be seeing Adam.

Tears flooding her eyes, Stephanie swung herself into her saddle. She rode away at a hard gallop, people scattering to make room for her quick exit.

Runner heard the commotion and turned with a start. His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat when he caught sight of Stephanie leaving in such a rush, and suspected why.

Leonida stopped and also saw Stephanie riding away. She turned to Runner and placed a hand on his arm. “Go after her, my son,” she murmured. “Your father and I will see to Pure Blossom. A ‘singer' will be sent for. Pure Blossom will not die.” She gave Gray Moon a quavering smile as he came up and stood beside her. “Because of Gray Moon, your sister will be all right.”

Runner stared down at his mother for a moment, then rushed away from her. In one leap, he was on his horse and riding with breakneck speed after Stephanie. He caught up with her just as she left the village. Edging his horse up close to hers, he grabbed her reins and drew both her horse and his stallion to a shuddering halt.

“You have no reason to leave my village,” Runner said, gazing gently into her eyes. He reached a hand over and smoothed tears from her cheeks. “You have no need to cry.”

“How can I not feel somewhat responsible for what has happened to your sister?” Stephanie said, sniffling. “Adam is my brother.”

“He is your stepbrother, no blood kin whatsoever to you,” Runner said. “So how can you blame yourself?” Stephanie, I love you. My people love you. You must return with me and sit with me during Pure Blossom's healing ceremony.”

“How can you love, or want me, when Adam has caused you so much pain and misery?” she persisted, finding it hard to shake the feelings that were assailing her.

“My woman, you were not able to choose a brother,” Runner said softly. “He was just there, a forced part of your life. You are not to blame for his evil ways. You are everything sweet and beautiful in this world of ugliness.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Come. Return with me. Be a part of my family as a ‘singer' performs a healing ritual for my sister.”

“You truly don't think your people will resent my presence?” Stephanie asked, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of a hand.

“Never,” Runner said thickly. “You will come with me? You will show your concern for my sister by sitting at my side during the healing ceremony?”

“If you truly want me,” Stephanie said softly.

Runner smiled at her as he handed her reins back. She followed him back to the village. They dismounted and went inside Pure Blossom's hogan. Runner took her by an elbow and guided her to the back of the hogan, to sit with his family. Gray Moon was also there, his dark eyes leveled on Pure Blossom where she lay on a pallet on the floor in the middle of the hogan.

Stephanie scarcely breathed when an elderly man with long, gray hair in a flowing garment entered the hogan. He was carrying a buckskin satchel, which he placed beside Pure Blossom on the floor.

Stephanie glanced at the door as she heard a medicine drum begin its steady rhythmic beats outside, as well as many people singing, the songs to continue unextinguished until Pure Blossom began showing signs of recovery.

Her attention was drawn to the elderly man again. He was chanting and shaking rattles over Pure Blossom. She gathered that this was the “singer” whom Runner had spoken about.

Raptly, she watched the ceremony, finding it beautiful and intriguing, as the “singer” sat down beside Pure Blossom and began creating a sand painting on the floor close to her.

Runner leaned closer to Stephanie. “The creation of the sand painting by the ‘singer' is an integral part of the healing ceremony,” he said in a low voice. “Watch what he draws—it will have much meaning for Pure Blossom's recovery. We believe the drawings created by our ‘singers' are sacred, and so they must be destroyed within twelve hours.”

“I have so much to learn about your customs,” Stephanie said, leaning closer to him.

“And a lifetime in which to learn them,” he whispered back, smiling at her.

She trembled warmly inside as he took one of her hands and held onto it as they continued to watch the performance of sand painting, Pure Blossom lying quietly, her eyes still closed.

Stephanie was stunned by the beauty of the drawings as the “singer” allowed colored sand, pollen, powdered roots and stone to sift out of his hand to create the pictures. Runner leaned close and began explaining the meaning behind that which the “singer” was drawing. He told her that bears were thought by the Navaho to possess healing powers. They appeared in each of the quadrants of this sand painting, a design created to restore Pure Blossom's health.

He told her that the Navaho assigned each direction a color and a power. The east was associated with white lightning, the south with blue sky, the west with yellow sun, and the north with black storm clouds.

“The inner circles of the center of the painting represent the home of the bears,” Runner continued in a low whisper to Stephanie.

The ceremony continued for some time, then Stephanie gasped with surprise when Pure Blossom's clothes were removed and the “singer” began smoothing something across her body.

“What is that?” Stephanie asked, feeling uncomfortable with Pure Blossom's nudity. “What is the ‘singer' using?”

“My sister's frail body is being rubbed with sand from a bear's paw print to give her strength,” Runner whispered back.

A hushed silence fell throughout the hogan as the “singer” then knelt down beside Pure Blossom and began feeding her something; she fought back and began choking on the sticky substance.

Stephanie could hardly hold herself back from running to the elderly man to pull him away from Pure Blossom as he continued forcing a strange sort of sticky medicine into her mouth. Yet she settled back and watched, wide-eyed, as Pure Blossom slowly came awake and willingly ate what was being offered her.

“The ‘singer' has brought her from her sleep,” Runner said, sighing heavily. He glanced over at his mother, whose tears of relief were silver on her face.

He looked at his father, seeing his eyes also brim with tears.

He looked over at Gray Moon, seeing him heave a deep sigh of relief, and realizing that here was a man who cared more for Pure Blossom than perhaps even Gray Moon realized. His love was in his eyes.

“I'm so happy that she is going to be all right,” Stephanie said, feeling herself finally relaxing. “But what is that he fed her to cause her to come around?”

“He fed my sister digested honey from the intestines of a bear,” Runner said matter-of-factly.

Stephanie almost gagged. “Do you mean . . . a . . . dead bear?” she said, shuddering.

“A very dead bear,” Runner said, smiling over at her.

“Well, at least it worked.” Stephanie said, smiling awkwardly over at him.

“Not only what she was fed caused her recovery, but also the sacred sand painting and the singing of the People,” Runner said, taking her elbow and helping her to her feet as everyone else rose and went to stand over Pure Blossom.

The “singer” drew a blanket up to Pure Blossom's chin, bent over and brushed away his painting and gathered up his mixture of healing products, then left.

The singing outside stopped, replaced by loud chants and shouts of happiness. Stephanie smiled to herself, knowing that the “singer” had spread the good news of Pure Blossom's recovery.

She stood back and watched as Pure Blossom's family took turns hugging, kissing, and holding her. Then she knelt down beside the bed and held Pure Blossom's slight body within her own arms.

“I'm so glad you are going to be all right,” she said, her voice breaking.

When Pure Blossom's tiny, frail arms twined around Stephanie's neck and returned her hug, Stephanie knew that everything would be healed between them. Pure Blossom did not hold Stephanie accountable for Adam's ugly deeds.