Wild Fire (6 page)

“The men will need the lights later tonight, I think.” Anne interrupted her thoughts. “It will take them a while to set up the radio.”

And
, Kara thought,
I can do my hair
. She waited for Anne to say it. When the words didn't come, she laughed silently at herself.
You're paranoid, Wako. She may be smart, but she definitely can't read your mind!

“If you're from the reservation in Idaho, you must be Nez Perce. Is that how you know my name means little moon?” Kara couldn't believe she'd said the words out loud, but the woman just smiled and handed her the last plate.

“Wakara is not a Nez Perce name.”

Kara nearly dropped the plate. What was she talking about? Of course Wakara was a Nez Perce name. Her great-grandmother was Nez Perce. Or was she? There had been some confusion about that.

“Wakara is a Yana name.”

Kara felt a stab of irritation. “Yana? I've never heard of them.” She dried the plate and set it on the open shelf above the sink.

When she turned back, Anne was watching her, a thoughtful smile on her face
.

“Would you like to talk, Wakara?”

Kara hesitated. What she really wanted was a few minutes to herself. Anne had to be wrong but she was curious about what the woman had to say.

Anne poured hot water from the kettle on the stove into two mugs and added packets of cocoa mix. When the hot chocolate was ready, she led the way into the dining room and cleared a place at one of the smaller tables.

Kara blew on the hot liquid and had taken three sips before Anne began.

“What do you know of your great-grandmother's people?”

The question startled Kara. She had thought Anne would explain. “Some,” she said slowly.

Anne nodded encouragement, so Kara told her what she knew.

“In 1917, my great-grandfather, Harley ‘Irish' Sheridan, found this Indian woman and her baby in the woods. The woman had been shot. Before she died, she pushed the baby into his arms and whispered, ‘Wakara.'

“He took the baby to the closest town. No one knew anything about the woman, but they decided she and the
baby must be from a band of Nez Perce still living on a nearby reservation.

“For some reason my great-grandfather didn't want to take the baby there, so he asked a missionary couple if they would keep her. Anyway, he told them the baby's name was Wakara and left her with them. When Wakara turned fifteen, he went back for her. He married her and took her to Portland.

“When Irish died, he left a drawing. A charcoal sketch of Wakara as a bride. Would you like to see it?”

When Anne nodded, Kara hurried to her room. Why was she so excited about this? But she knew the answer. She loved the story, and no one but Tia had ever been interested before.

She walked back to the table and slid the framed drawing in front of Anne. “There was a letter too, explaining about Wakara's background.

“I was the first girl in three generations. Dad says my Grandpa Sheridan came to the hospital when I was born, took one look, and said, ‘Her name is Wakara.' He gave my parents the letter and the picture of his mother. They hung it in the nursery, and I've had it ever since.”

Anne smiled. “Ah, it is right that your grandfather named you. She is beautiful, and I think you are very much alike.”

Kara flushed. “Grandpa Sheridan named my dad Harley after his father, so I guess my folks thought it was fine for him to name me after his mother.”

Kara sighed and picked up the picture. “The story's so romantic, but sad too. My great-grandmother died before she turned twenty-one. Grandpa Sheridan was raised by some cousins.”

When Kara had finished, the woman touched her hand. “My father wrote a book about the Yana people.”

“So, that's how you knew about the name?”

Anne nodded, picked up both mugs, and headed toward the kitchen. “The guests come tomorrow. We must get some sleep,” she said.

“But . . .” Kara started to call her back. What if Anne was right? What if her great-grandmother hadn't been Nez Perce like they'd thought all along, but had belonged to these Yana people instead?

Well, yeah
, she reasoned,
what if?
That doesn't change a thing. Everything else is true
. But it was an eerie feeling to grow up thinking you were part of one nationality and then find out you were really something else.

Kara looked at her watch. Nine o'clock. The men were still bent over the radio, and Ryan had fallen asleep on the floor. What would they think about it? She shook her head. It wouldn't bother them a bit. Dad might be surprised, but neither he nor Greg nor Ryan had the slightest resemblance to the first Wakara.

Anne was already halfway up the narrow stairs to her room by the time Kara realized she had said “Good night.”

Kara scooped up Ryan, tucked him into his own bed, and raced for the shower.

When she had turned off her lantern and crawled into bed, she tried to pray, but the things Anne had said kept crowding into her mind. Who was the first Wakara? It shouldn't make that much difference, but it did. If her great-grandmother was not Nez Perce, but a member of this Yana tribe, then so was she!

She had to find out. She had done most of the talking this time. Next time it was Anne's turn. She rolled over and tucked her hand under the pillow, pulling her knees to her chest in that comfortable position that always put her to sleep. She wanted to find out more about Anne's background too. There had to be a way to get her to talk about herself
.

K
ARA'S EYES SNAPPED OPEN
.
Had that noise been in a dream? The room was dark as midnight except for a small patch of gray where the window was. She reached for the flashlight on the floor next to her bed, then lay still trying to listen over the pounding of her heart
.

Crash!

There it came again. Then a high-pitched whinny that sounded almost like a human scream.

The horses!

She scrambled out from under the tangled blankets. The heavy flashlight hit the floor and rolled out of reach. She groped for her clothes in the darkness and yanked them on
.

In the hallway, someone lit a lantern. She could see Greg tugging on his boots. Colin had the shotgun, and Dad was holding the .45.

Ryan tugged at her sleeve. “Kara, the horses. Something's wrong with Star. Come on, let's go.”

She almost pushed him away, but the fear in his voice stopped her. She bent down and pried his fingers gently from her arm. “Not this time, Ry.” She moved him carefully backward into Anne's waiting arms.

In the lantern light, the cook's face looked composed.
Unshakable
. The single word flipped through Kara's mind as the woman wrapped her arms firmly around Ryan's shoulders. Ryan struggled silently against her hold until she bent and whispered something in his ear.

Kara turned and raced out the door after the men.

Rifle shots echoed up the hillside, and Kara froze as a huge dark animal ran from the barn. It lumbered across the meadow and through the empty corral, then disappeared into the woods.

She bolted down the hill and ducked through the gaping hole where the barn door used to be. She stood still to let her eyes adjust to the darkness.

“Let's get some light in here.” Dad's voice came from the direction of the stalls.

“I'll fire up the generator.” Greg pushed past her, and she had to grab his arm to get his attention.

“What's happening?”

“Bear. After the grain.”

Kara followed his pointing finger and could just make out several ripped-open grain sacks, the flakes of oats and corn scattered all over the ground.

She picked her way through the slippery grain, splintered wood, and bits of iron from the shattered door frame. When she got to the grooming area, Colin was already leading Lily out of her stall.

She heard rustling close by, then Dad's soft voice murmuring to Star. “Easy, boy, easy. It's okay now. You're just fine.”

Lily nickered softly as Kara approached. Colin stepped around and handed her the halter rope. “As far as I can tell, she's okay. I found a small cut on her rump. She must have caught a splinter while she was dancing around.”

Kara realized she'd been holding her breath, not knowing what she'd find. She let it out in a whoosh, then hugged the shaking mare.

“Can you take her?” Colin asked. “I've got to get out there and see about the other horses.”

Kara heard the generator roar to life. As the overhead lights flashed on, she remembered the empty corral. Some of the horses had been penned there for the night.

“Be careful, Colin. That bear may still be around.”

Colin smiled and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Don't you worry, little lady,” he drawled in his best John Wayne, “that ol' bear is clear to Mexico by now.” He grinned, then turned and headed back through the broken door.

She felt her face burn. Why did Colin always have to act like a comedian?

Lily's ears pricked up, and Kara realized Dad was standing next to her.

“Need some help?”

She hoped her face was back to normal. “No. Thanks, Dad. I'm going to be a vet, remember? I can take care of it. Is Star all right?”

“Star's fine. Lily doesn't look too bad either. The first aid supplies are in that locker.” He nodded to a wooden chest wedged between the tack room and the stalls.

“When you're done here, have Anne put the coffee on. Those horses that were in the corral could be scattered from here to Rock Springs.” He sighed. “It's going to be a long night.”

She nodded, then went to get some salve for Lily's wound. She tried to concentrate on what she was doing, but her mind kept going back to Colin.

He was seventeen, closer to Greg's age than hers. Besides, he could be a real goof sometimes with that phony accent and comedy routine. He talked too much, and flirted with every girl he met.

“He could charm the scales off a rattlesnake,” Greg had said once. But she was the boss's daughter. Colin had to think of her as just a friend.
That's what he is, Wakara Sheridan. Colin Jones is just a friend
.

She turned her attention back to Lily, examining her sides and back, feeling her legs, looking for breaks or scrapes. Colin was right; except for the cut on her rump, the mare was sound.

Kara talked softly to the horse, using singsong sounds to calm her as she cleaned the wound with Betadine. Then she slipped on a rubber glove and coated the gash with ointment
.

“There, that should do it. See?” She held out the jar of ointment. Lily sniffed it, giving her approval. “Leave it alone now, and it will heal in a day or two.”

She led Lily back to her stall, took off the halter, and shut the door. In the next stall, Dakota thumped the floor with his foot. “What's the matter, boy? You jealous? I know Colin already checked you out.”

She decided to check him anyway. Sure enough there was a rock embedded in his back foot. She picked it out, gave the big animal a rub on the neck, then went in to examine Star. The pony was standing like a statue, one back foot cocked, head drooping, eyes half closed.

Kara chuckled. “You don't let anything bother you for long, do you, old boy?” Dad had already looked him over. She backed off and let him sleep.

After giving Lily and Dakota an apple treat, she stored away the first aid kit, picked up the lantern her dad had left, and headed back to the house.

Smoke billowed from the chimney, and she could smell the coffee halfway to the lodge. As usual Anne was way ahead of her.

A sleepy-eyed Ryan met her at the door. “Is Star okay? Did Daddy shoot a cougar?”

She laughed and pulled him in for a hug. “Star is fine. It was a bear, not a cougar, and it ran away.”

Anne's eyes questioned her over Ryan's shoulder.

“It was after the grain,” Kara assured her, “but the other horses broke out of the corral, and the guys have to round them up.”

Ryan pushed back and grinned up at her. “We knew they'd be okay 'cause we asked God to take care of them.” His face grew sober. “I couldn't come to the barn because I had the most important job of all.”

“Oh?” Kara wiggled her eyebrows. “And just what was the most important job of all?”

The little boy laughed, “To pray, silly. Anne and I prayed for the horses, and Dad and Greg, and Colin and you.”

Kara glanced at Anne. Why should she be surprised? That's just what Mom would have done.

The cook returned her puzzled gaze with a smile. “A boy should be asleep at 3
A.M.
”

Ryan let Kara lead him back to bed. As she tucked the covers up under his chin, she heard him mumble, “Please don't let the bear come back.”

“Don't worry, Ry.” She remembered Colin's words and smiled. “That ol' bear is clear to Mexico by now.”