Holdin' On for a Hero (11 page)

The first thing she did when she got to her motel room was call her office. Her assistant told her to hold on and put Steve on the phone.

“Got some news for you,” he said as he picked up.

“Hold on!” She put the phone down and rumbled through her suitcase. Finding a miniature recorder, she picked up the phone. “I want to tape this, go ahead.”

She set up the machine so she could record and listen. It took Steve a few minutes to relay everything he had found. When he finished she turned off the recorder. “And you have documentation to back all this up?”

“Not yet. But we will. Should have it in forty-eight hours, tops. You ready to move on this?”

“Not quite. I need to speak with some people here, get their cooperation, and that might take a while. Sit on everything ‘til I get back to you.”

“Will do. Later.”

Chance hung up the phone and stripped off her clothes. While she was showering she thought about the things Steve had found out. If what he said was true then there was a very good chance the casino the reservation was planning on would never be a reality. And that would mean a lot more people out of work and unable to take care of their families.

“But why would anyone spend so much time and money just to torment the Indians?” she asked aloud. “It doesn’t make sense. There has to be something else. They can’t take the Indian lands so what is it they want?”

She dried off, combed her hair and dressed. Cramming a couple of things into a duffel bag, she stuck the recorder inside the waterproof pouch on the side and threw it over her shoulder. She grabbed the keys and headed back to where she had left Wyatt.

He was waiting in the front yard. She parked the Jeep and slid over into the passenger seat as he loaded two old sleeping bags and an old worn canvas duffel bag into the back. He climbed in behind the wheel and pulled off.

“Can you tell me where we’re going?”

“In the Deep Creek area. We’re meeting someone there.”

“Who?”

“Tsa’li.”

“Tsa’li?”

“Charley, if you prefer,” he clarified without elaborating and she sat back, watching the passing scenery. After a few miles they saw several trucks parked alongside the road. Men with guns stood clustered around one vehicle.

One of the men looked up and pointed toward them. All the men turned to look. Chance cut a look at Wyatt and saw his face set in a hard mask, his jaw clenched tight.

As they drew near the group of men, two of them heaved something at the Jeep. Another waved something furry at them. Chance gasped as an animal’s body hit the front windshield. Blood splattered the glass as the wolf’s body tumbled off the hood.

Chance shuddered at the sight. “God, why would someone do something like that? Isn’t it against the law to hunt on the reservation? And what was that man waving at us?”

“A wolf tail.” Wyatt’s voice was almost a growl.

“The tail?” Chance’s revulsion had her choking on the words. “Why did they cut off its tail?”

“As a trophy.”

“Someone should do something about people like that,” she murmured then screamed. “Wyatt, look out!”

He slammed on the brakes and the Jeep slid off the shoulder of the road. Chance was out by the time it came to a stop, running toward a small creature that was cowering in the road. Wyatt jumped out and followed her.

“It’s just a baby!” she exclaimed as she reached for the wolf pup.

“Chance, they don’t like to be—” He stopped as she scooped the pup up and cradled it against her face, cooing to it.

“Huh?” she asked as she walked up to him. “Look, it’s so tiny. Why do you think it’s out here all alone?”

“Probably because those men killed its mother,” he replied then looked around, talking to himself. “This is odd.”

“What?” she asked, still rubbing her face against the soft fur and letting the wolf lick her.

“Wolves mate in early winter,” he said. “And give birth in late winter or early spring. It’s still a little early for pups this age.”

“Well, maybe his mom and dad couldn’t wait,” she chuckled as the pup licked her face enthusiastically. “I think it’s hungry. We have to find something to feed it with.”

“Chance, it won’t live,” he said, reaching out to stroke the pup’s soft fur.

“Yes, it will!” Her eyes blazed as she looked at him. “I won’t let it die. Now, we have to find some milk and a doll’s bottle or something so we can feed it.”

Wyatt stared at her a moment then gave in. “Okay, fine. We’ll go see what we can find.” They got back in the Jeep. Chance cuddled the pup in her arms, talking to it and stroking it. Wyatt found a store at the edge of town and stopped. He went in and when he returned he handed her a paper bag. Inside was a plastic doll with a little bottle attached to it by a rubber band. There was also a container of milk.

She set the milk down in the floorboard and turned the heat up to warm it. “Thank you,” she said gratefully as Wyatt started the Jeep and pulled back out onto the road.

He nodded without comment and they rode in silence. After twenty minutes Chance opened the milk and stuck her finger in it. “It’s still too cold.”

“We’ll warm it up when we get there.”

They traveled a few more miles and turned off the road onto what could best be described a path. After a couple of miles the path ended. Wyatt turned off the Jeep and got out. As he started unloading their gear, she put the pup inside her coat and stuffed the doll bottle and milk in her backpack. After throwing the strap of the bag over her shoulder, she followed Wyatt into the woods.

They walked about a half mile and came to what looked like two intersecting trails. Wyatt turned left and the trail grew steeper. They climbed for at least another mile and Chance began to hear the sound of water.

“Is that the falls?”

“Right through there about a hundred yards.” He pointed to one side. “We’re going to cut across at the base.”

She didn’t say anything more as she followed him. They emerged at the base of the falls and she looked up. Layers, or shelves of horizontal rocks, worked their way up the falls. Water cascaded down the middle of the rock with a smaller stream to the left. The top appeared to be smaller, maybe twenty-five feet or so, but it widened as it descended. The base was at least forty feet. A log at the base of the fall acted as a dam. A small pool rippled at the base and a stream led from the pool to disappear in the forest.

Chance looked at the water and the immersed log then at her boots. They weren’t exactly made for walking in ice-cold water.

“We’re going to cross here?” she asked, shifting her backpack on her shoulder.

“Unless you want to climb up and find another way.”

She grimaced but said nothing, cautiously stepping from the soft soil to the log as Wyatt started across like he was walking on pavement. She made it to the middle of the expanse without incident. Her legs and feet were soaked and felt like chunks of ice. The pup worked its way up to the neck of her coat and started trying to squirm out. She tried to get a hold of it and lost her balance. One moment she was on the log and the next she was chest deep in freezing water, holding the pup above her head.

Wyatt dropped the gear he was carrying and waded out into the pool to help her. They made it to the bank and she put the pup back inside her coat as her teeth clattered and she shook with cold.

“Come on, we’ve got to get you dry.” Wyatt grabbed her wet pack.

Chance thought she was going to freeze to death by the time Wyatt stopped. She looked around him and saw what looked like a hollow in the side of the hill. In front of the opening stood an old man. With long, flowing white hair and a face lined and weathered by time, he looked as old as the mountains themselves. Except for his eyes—they seemed ageless.

He nodded to Wyatt as Wyatt took her arm and led her forward. “Tsa’li Eaglefoot, this is Chance Davenport. Chance, Tsa’li.”

“Ni-ni-nice to me-meet you,” she chattered.

“Come, I have a fire.” He gestured toward the cave.

Chance followed Wyatt inside. Sure enough, a fire burned brightly in the center of the surprisingly large cave. She wondered why the interior wasn’t full of smoke from the fire and asked Wyatt. He pointed up and she saw a small opening in the rock ceiling. The fissure acted as a chimney.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes.” Wyatt dumped the gear and unzipped her coat.

Chance held on to the pup as Wyatt took off her wet boots and socks. When he reached to unfasten her jeans, she backed up a step. “You’ll freeze if you don’t get out of them.”

Knowing he was right did nothing to ease her uneasiness. “Okay, you hold the baby. I can do it.”

She handed him the pup. “What am I supposed to wear? All my clothes were in the backpack and it’s soaked.”

He took off his coat and flannel shirt and held out the shirt to her. She motioned for him to turn around. As he did she quickly took off her wet clothes and put the shirt on. It hung almost to her knees and the sleeves were about ten inches too long. But at least it was dry.

Wyatt handed her the pup and she picked up the wet backpack. She dug out the doll bottle out and the plastic carton of milk, filled the bottle and knelt down, holding it over the coals and stroking the pup as she warmed the milk.

Wyatt spread one of the sleeping bags beside the fire for her. She smiled her thanks then turned her attention to the pup.

He pulled on his coat and walked outside to where Tsa’li Eaglefoot stood. “This is the one.” Tsa’li nodded his head thoughtfully. “She has the eyes of a wolf.”

Wyatt nodded and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “Can you help her remember?”

“A better question is, have you remembered?” Tsa’li asked.

Wyatt looked at the old man somberly. “Some. But I’m not sure I understand it.”

“Then perhaps she can help trigger your memories. But it will require time. Does she understand?”

“No.”

“Then we will explain.” Tsa’li turned to enter the cave.

Wyatt followed him inside and they found Chance feeding the pup. “Look, he likes it!” She smiled then looked anxiously at the pup. “He will live, Wyatt. He has to.”

Wyatt didn’t reply, but spread his sleeping bag next to hers and sat down. He took off his coat, laid it aside and stared into the flames.

Tsa’li squatted down in front of Chance. “Do you know why you are here?”

“Because Wyatt asked me to come.”

Tsa’li looked at Wyatt then back at her. “I have been asked to help you remember things from the past, things you have pushed from your mind. Are you willing?”

“I guess so,” she replied nervously. “What do I have to do?”

“First you must fast and pray. You will stay here and you will drink only water for twenty-four hours. You will not sleep or eat. There should be no words spoken and you must pray for your heart and mind to be freed from all evil. When that has been done we will begin.”

Chance thought about it for a few seconds. “Are you and Wyatt going to stay with me?”

“Wyatt will stay. I will return when it is time.”

She looked over at Wyatt then nodded. “Okay.”

Tsa’li stood and motioned to Wyatt to follow him. “She cannot eat or sleep,” he said as they walked outside. “And you should not speak with her.”

“I understand.”

“And she is not to be touched,” Tsa’li added. “Not in the way a man touches a woman.”

“There’s no danger of that,” Wyatt assured him.

“I will return when it is time,” Tsa’li said and walked away.

Wyatt watched him disappear down the hill then turned and entered the cave. Chance looked up at him as he walked in. “So what do we do for the next twenty-four hours?”

“Nothing.” His reply was more of a bark.

“Nothing? We just sit here?”

“That’s right.” He moved his sleeping bag on the opposite side of the fire and sat down to stare into the flames.

Chance made a face then looked down at the wolf pup. It was going to be a very long twenty-four hours.

* * * * *

Chance was beginning to get irritable from lack of sleep and the gnawing hunger in her stomach. To make things worse, Wyatt had refused to speak to her since Tsa’li left the cave twenty-three hours ago. She had never imagined that a day could be so long, but she was finding out that it could seem like an eternity. She had spent most of her time thinking about Wyatt, and wondering what he hoped to accomplish by having her there. She had no idea what was supposed to happen once Tsa’li returned, other than what little she had been told—that Tsa’li would help her remember things she had forgotten.

Chance was not sure she believed what Wyatt had said. If she had undergone an abortion she was sure she would remember it. Especially if she had been pregnant with his child. The thought of being pregnant with Wyatt’s baby was something she had never even dared to dream. Considering the possibility made her yearn for something she was sure she would never have.

She stole a glance at Wyatt, who sat immobile, staring into the fire. She wondered if she would be the same with him she was with other men. Would she be as cold and incapable of feeling, or would she experience what she had the first time with him?