Love's Dream Song (19 page)

Panicked, she sat upright with a jerk. Shots of pain jolted through her head. She peered up at the blackness and searched for the stars. She was either blinded, or there were none to see. A sense of urgency escalated as she felt around her.

A sign of life—a blade of grass, a bush, even a cactus would be a welcome clue that she was not where she feared.

Another moan tore from her throat as she listened. Again it echoed in eerie tones. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. Her turquoise nugget, tucked under her blouse, reminded her of hope. She pulled it out and grasped the hard stone.

Don’t panic. You’re alive. You’ll survive.

The question was how. She was in a cave. The musky smells of damp, stale air, the echoes of the smallest sound, even her breathing, confirmed it. She sat motionless, petrified with fear.

A breeze came and went. It traced across the skin on her sweat-dampened cheek. She waited for another wisp of air. Where had it come from? There had to be an opening.

She ignored the throbs that came every time she moved as she peered around. Finally she saw a hole. One star shone in the small opening. It was high above her—at least fifteen feet—in the center of the ceiling.

She’d probably been dumped through that opening. Her body ached everywhere. A large bruise burned on her hip. Had she landed from that height?

She checked her legs. Pinpoints of pain prickled through her stiff muscles, but no bones were broken. She ached, but she could move.

She peered up at the lone star and rolled onto her knees. There had to be a way to the hole. She placed her hands before her and crawled another foot, then set her hands down and suddenly jerked back. What was that? It felt solid and cold. A scream bubbled forth and it took every ounce of willpower for her to keep it down. She wasn’t alone. Someone else lay next to her.

Her eyes strained as she tried to see in the inky blackness. She reached out again and touched the body. Fabric crinkled between her fingers. Solid flesh molded underneath. She jerked back.

“Jess,” she cried as she quickly felt the broad male shoulders in search of his face. “Jess, is that you?”

Hysteria welled in her voice. She took a deep breath and tried to push it down. She touched the body. It didn’t move, and it felt cold and stiff, as if he were dead.

Her control slipped another notch. Fear paralyzed her.

“Are you hurt?” she managed.

The body didn’t move. Suddenly, she had to know if it was Jess. The metal belt was her first clue, but the coarse, long hair assured her that it wasn’t the rancher. She placed her fingers at the pulse point of his neck and on top of his chest. No heartbeat. She leaned her face in front of the man’s mouth. No breath.

Dead, the man was dead.

Autumn jumped up and backed away from the dead man. The cold stone wall halted her retreat. Sobbing, she sank to the floor.

Her back pressed against the wall, she struggled for rational thinking. Her mind raced as she tried to piece together the events that had led her to this hell.

Autumn rocked back on her heels. Relief that it wasn’t Jess mingled with repugnance at the nearness of death. She fought momentary flashes of panic. The man’s headband was damp from sweat. He hadn’t been dead for long. From the length of him, she guessed he was tall. Perhaps it was one of Jess’s hands who’d come across the campfire as she had.

No, wait. Her fingers had traced the belt. Suddenly, she knew whose body was in the cave. Only one man wore a belt with stones set in that pattern—
Arlo Ross
.

Her mind reeled. It couldn’t possibly be Arlo. She’d seen him at the campfire—he’d been the one to put her in here. She couldn’t imagine what his death meant, unless he had come across the men as she had.

Absently, Autumn sat down. She contemplated searching for an exit, but staring into the inky blackness proved how futile that would be.
Wait until daylight.

For several moments she considered moving away from Arlo’s body, but fear of what else was on the cave’s floor kept her from doing so.

Autumn settled onto the cold stone floor, her knee drawn up for security as well as warmth. Her eyelids grew heavy. As she drifted off, the words of one of Real Tall Man’s chants came to mind. It was the chant of the dream way. She grasped the turquoise nugget and held it in the palm of her hand. Her last conscious thought was an image of Real Tall Man singing the chant and Jess walking toward her.

* * *

In the distance, a coyote howled. A good omen. The chanting filled the night air as Real Tall Man started another song. Flames cast light from the nearby fire.

The cornmeal slipped through Real Tall Man’s fingers as he continued to paint the image on the blanket in the sand. The dry painting was almost complete. In spite of his lack of experience, Jess recognized that Real Tall Man had created a beautiful form. It had taken painstaking precision and agonizing patience, but the proper image had emerged.

Unlike sings, where colored sand was used for dry painting—the stargazing ceremony required a painting made with cornmeal. Real Tall Man had surrounded the picture with rainbows to protect it from evil spirits.

The task and singing had served at least one purpose. It had kept Jess’s mind occupied to the point where he could no longer struggle with the image of Autumn’s predicament. His mind had now numbed into a trance.

At last, the dry painting was complete. Real Tall Man directed Jess to put out the fire and then began another song. The chant hypnotized Jess. His vision blurred. He blinked, hoping to see Autumn’s face in the darkness.

After Real Tall Man finished the song, he sat very quietly. Jess remained still, knowing the medicine man needed to concentrate in total silence. Now the visions would come. Jess canceled thoughts of doubt and focused on remembered images of Autumn.

For a long time, they sat in silence. The stars overhead shifted as the earth spun on its axis. Jess closed his eyes.

Suddenly, Autumn’s image flashed in his mind—a different image from those he’d conjured up. It seemed to float toward him. He opened his eyes, yet still the vision remained.

Her eyes were wide and glistened like polished stones, but tears tracked from them. Strands of her hair streamed from the loosened knot. It looked like a gash creased her forehead. Softly, she called to him. “Help me. I’m trapped.”

Jess blinked and the image disappeared. Real Tall Man remained quiet, but rocked back and forth. Again Jess stared into the darkness.

Another apparition appeared. It was Autumn, and it wasn’t. She called as tears trailed down her cheeks. Jess had seen her many times before—the woman in his dreams. He reached toward the image, but the vision disappeared.

“Hasteen Nez,” he whispered in the language of his people. “Did you see her just now?”

The medicine man didn’t answer. Jess waited, not wanting to interrupt the medicine man’s vision in case he saw Autumn in the dream. After several minutes, Real Tall Man spoke. “She’s hurt, but not badly. No one is harming her. It is dark and lonely. She is afraid.”

Real Tall Man fell silent and Jess clenched his teeth against the urge to jump up and shake the man into telling him more.

Suddenly, Real Tall Man began to wail. Alarmed, Jess straightened, afraid Autumn had died. No. He would not believe it. He’d just seen her.

Another wail cut through the dark night. Jess got up and went to Real Tall Man’s side.

“It is my son. He is gone from this world.”

Jess’s shoulders sagged. He did not doubt Real Tall Man’s words. There had been a lot of blood where he’d last seen Arlo.

Saddened, he sat back down. Arlo Ross had been dogmatic, but he’d lived from his heart. Jess thought about the drug connection. Operators were known for their ruthlessness. His fear for Autumn heightened.

“His body lies in a cave. Autumn is there, too.”

“A cave? Are you sure?” Jess tried to remember if there were caves in the area. None came to mind.

“It is dark and cold. She is trapped and afraid.”

”Do you know where it is?” Jess fought the frantic need to go to her.

Real Tall Man heard the building apprehension. He spoke calmly. “Do not worry. She will be all right. You can find the cave in the small box canyon where the ancients built a farm.”

Real Tall Man’s words brought him immediately back to the present. “What farm?”

“The small house constructed at the end of the canyon.” He explained more about the single-dwelling ruin, and Jess remembered. Daya had taken him there a couple of times. They’d found broken pottery and flints. It was miles from where he’d last seen Autumn.

“Near there is an entrance to a ceremonial cave that the ancients used before they went on a hunt.”

That was news to Jess. Daya must not have known, or else had decided not to tell him. Considering the change in his attitude toward his Indian heritage, that possibility was real enough.

How had the men found it—that’s what he wanted to know. He asked Real Tall Man, but the
hataali
just shook his head.

“They are not there. She is alone and lost.”

Jess glanced to the east. A small ribbon of light lined the horizon. Dawn would break and he could be on his way. He wanted to leave now, but he had to wait until Real Tall Man completed the ceremony.

Real Tall Man concluded the chants. With care he folded the corners of the blanket that they’d used for the cornmeal. The art design dissolved as he lifted the ends. The cornmeal used to construct the picture formed a pile of what looked like yellow sand.

Jess waited by the fire as Real Tall Man walked in a circle around the outer perimeter of their camp. First he faced east and scattered some particles of the sacred corn. Then he faced south and west and north, until he’d dispersed corn in all the correct directions.

His expression solemn, Real Tall Man next brought some medicinal herbs from his pack and gave them to Jess. “Take these. When you find Autumn, give them to her. It will heal her wounds.”

The mention of wounds renewed Jess’s anxiety.

Light pushed the edge of darkness away from the horizon when Jess finally mounted his horse and was on his way. Overhead, stars still glittered. He glanced at them and vowed that he would find Autumn before they appeared again.

* * *

Light filtered into the large cavern and cast shadows in the recessed corners. Autumn awoke and peered at the hole above her and tried to figure the time of day. It couldn’t be very late. She didn’t see direct rays. Sunlight wouldn’t reach the floor of the canyon until ten or eleven, at least—that is, if this cave was in the canyon.

She blinked and tried to focus on the events that had brought her here. Her muscles tightened when she remembered the blow to her head and where she was.

She moved her head slowly so as not to bring on another horrible ache. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was going to die in this hole—a slow, agonizing death of starvation and dehydration. The thought sent pangs of thirst and hunger to mingle with the fear.

Autumn grasped her turquoise nugget and nuzzled her head deeper into the crook of her arm. There had to be a way out of here. Jess would get her out. He wouldn’t let her die like this. Maybe the murderers would be back. She should get up and explore the cave.

Her muscles were stiff from cuts and bruises, but her injuries were forgotten when she spotted Arlo’s body. An ache of remorse lodged in her heart. It was too late to bridge the hatred there had been between them.

A tear trickled down her cheek, but she quickly brushed it aside.
Maintain control,
she thought as she struggled upright. With her eyes closed, she prayed for her uncle and then for herself.

With the prayers and thoughts of God watching over her, a small measure of confidence began to form. She was alone and trapped, and it was clear that whoever had thrown her in this cave was not coming back. It wasn’t a totally hopeless situation—she was mobile. She couldn’t climb to the hole above her, but there might be another way to escape. She prayed again.

Slowly, she turned to investigate her surroundings. The walls were stained—probably seepage caused by winter rains. Cobwebs hung from the dark corners. In one place, she thought she saw bats.

The floor of the cave was rocky. Were there any animal prints? Several marred the few stretches of powdered silt that had settled in the rock. Away from the light, the cave narrowed, but it was dark. Autumn stepped toward the shadows.

“A tunnel,” she practically shouted with excitement when she saw the narrow opening. It could be a way out.

.

CHAPTER 13

The shadows darkened as Autumn approached the narrowed section of the cave. Even though the light was dim, she saw a passageway. Whether it led anywhere was questionable. It could be labyrinth that went deeper underground.

Before entering the darkness, Autumn took another look around the cavern. The walls were solid. The only other opening was the skylight. It was a small hole, and judging from its position, probably not noticeable from outside. A search party would never find her.

The only people who knew of her whereabouts had killed Arlo. It was fairly clear that even if they did come back for her, she would not fare well. There were no other options but to try the passageway. She wouldn’t last long in here without water. It was best to attempt escape while she had the strength to move.

Logic was one thing, but action was another. Musty smells drifted out of the dark. It didn’t take much imagination to envision all sorts of creatures hidden in the recesses.

“Don’t think about it!” she ordered. “Just think about the desert. Picture what it looks like out there. Visualize yourself walking in the sunshine.” She took a deep breath and repeated over and over, “I’m brave. I’m free.”

The affirmation helped, but Autumn still had difficulty taking that first step. She faced the cavern filled with morning light, her uncle’s body a cold reminder of her fate if she didn’t move.

After one last wistful glance out the opening to the blue sky, she began the slow journey through the narrow tunnel. At once, the walls closed in on her. She managed to stem the claustrophobic feeling until she rounded a bend and was enveloped in total darkness. Quickly, she backed up where she could see the light from the cavern she’d been in.

She breathed deep to stem the hysteria. No way she could go into that total darkness—not alone, and especially not knowing where the tunnel led.

It didn’t take long to return back up to the cavern. What had seemed like a great distance turned out to be only a few feet. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she leaned against the wall near the entrance to the tunnel, grasping her nugget. She couldn’t go down that tunnel.

The emotional bout passed, leaving her throat dry. She needed water to survive. Another visual search proved she wasn’t going to get any in there. Again her uncle’s body reminded her of what would happen unless she took action.

She had a choice. She could stay here and die a slow death, or she could bury herself alive in the dark tunnels. The cavern offered light. The tunnels offered possible escape. She really had no choice.

Without allowing herself another thought, she swung into the narrow passage and forced herself to pass the bend where there was no more light.

Her eyes strained in the darkness. The air was musty, but not foul. A good sign. She imagined there was a slight breeze, but didn’t dare stop to investigate. She didn’t want to know if it was real or not.

A light formed in the distance. Suddenly, she could see the contour of the walls. With a shout, she scrambled to the source, heedless of her knees and hands as they scraped against the rough stone flooring. The tunnel widened into a small chamber, lit by a hole in the ceiling.

Relieved to see daylight again, she paused to consider her position. Like the other opening, it was situated too high to reach. This had to be a labyrinth created by water seeping through cracks in the rock and eroding the ground. Another tunnel beckoned, and again she had to muster courage to leave the light and enter the darkness.

She didn’t want to go, but forced herself to keep moving. She found two more rooms like the first. At least the holes provided fresh air and light. She didn’t even want to think about coming this far in total darkness.

Farther into the tunnel, she didn’t have much choice but to think of it. The passageway narrowed. It felt like the walls were pressing in on her. Her eyes ached from trying to see.

She could feel hysteria taking over. Her breathing became shallow and ragged. Every muscle in her body tensed. She had to get control.

Taking deep breaths helped. She closed her eyes and focused on her inner courage—the way Real Tall Man had shown her. The wave of fear passed, but it had taken its toll. It took monumental effort to keep crawling into the depths of darkness.

After several more yards, the tunnel wound left and then right. It narrowed until Autumn feared she might have to back out the way she’d come. Returning to the light tempted her. At least if she had to die, she could spend her last hours where she could see, not buried alive.

No. She wouldn’t let herself think like this. Pulling from reserves, she crawled on her hands and knees. For a moment, her muscles refused to obey the command to move. Would it be easier to curl up and simply die?

A sound prevented her from flopping back down on the floor of the tunnel. She peered behind her into the darkness and thought she saw a movement. She screamed and scrambled forward, ignoring the scraping of the rough stone floor on her knees. The tunnel widened for several feet and narrowed again. She peered into its depths but could not see a thing. It was so dark, she didn’t even know for sure if her eyes were open or closed.

After she bumped her head on a low overhang, she paused, listening for a sound. The silence hurt her ears.

It had been her imagination. She was hallucinating. That had to be it. “Help me,” she cried out, but didn’t repeat the plea. The small, lost sound of her voice in the empty tunnel frightened her more. She grasped her nugget, drawing courage from the turquoise stone.

Singing. Was that singing? It came from the tunnel. Autumn strained to hear the words of the chant. Real Tall Man’s voice seemed to fill the cave. His face floated before her. She started to reach out to it but pulled her hand back.

“Strength and courage are yours. Walk in the way of beauty.”

She’d heard her grandfather sing the Beauty Way chant for one of her cousins who’d been hurt in a fall.

The words came rushing back and filled her with strength. Real Tall Man would pray for her safety—if he knew she was lost.

Autumn pushed aside the doubt. She had no way of knowing for sure how long she’d been unconscious. It could have been more than one night. She crawled several more feet. Real Tall Man’s image appeared again. This time she stretched out her hand only to come into contact with cold rock .

She moaned. The eerie sound echoed down the chambers. Again, she collapsed on the floor, her muscles numb from fatigue and lack of water. This time Jess’s face appeared.

Quickly, she crawled onto her hands and knees. She had to move or she’d believe she was already dead and seeing ghosts.

That didn’t make sense. Jess and Real Tall Man weren’t dead. Or maybe they were.

For endless moments, she continued to crawl on the floor. The haunting chant called to her. In a trance, she stared at the apparition beckoning her to follow. Every time she got near it receded deeper into the tunnel.

“Jess.”

Hearing his name helped. If only he were there with her now, he would find a way out. He knew every inch of his property. Maybe she was no longer on his property.

The thought weakened her for a moment. She lowered her head and braced it on her fists while she struggled to maintain control. Thinking of Jess helped. She pretended she was crawling toward him.

Opening her eyes, she pictured him. He stood in front of her, beckoning her to follow him out of the cave.

“I’ll follow you, Jess,” she muttered as she struggled down the narrow passage. “I love you.”

The sound of singing started up again. Real Tall Man chanted another
hatal
. He would help her escape. After all, he was her grandfather and a powerful medicine man.

“I’m coming,” she told him.

She struggled on her knees and moved forward several more feet. When she rounded the bend, the light almost blinded her. She closed her eyes. Light meant only one thing—an opening.

Autumn scrambled, picking up her pace as she went. The light grew brighter, until finally, she came to a large room. It was three or four times bigger than the other chambers. There were several openings to the outside, but all of them were beyond reach. For a moment, she wanted to give in to despair.

Her hands and knees burned with scrapes and cuts from the rough rock. She tried to swallow, but her tongue stuck like a wad of dry cotton and she almost choked. Would she ever get out of here?

The joy at seeing light quickly dissipated. Her gaze out of focus, she stared at the sandstone walls stained an ominous black. It was an appropriate color for a tomb.

Suddenly she sat upright.
Black walls
. Sandstone wasn’t black. These walls were covered with soot—someone had built fires in here. Anasazi hunters had used this cave. That meant there had to be an exit.

Autumn silently prayed and called up the energy to cross the room and lean against the wall. Her fingers traced along the rough edges of sandstone. With her nails, she scratched the surface. Streaks appeared.

For the first time since she had regained consciousness on the cold floor of the cave, hope reigned. Had her prayers been answered? There had to be a way out. She edged around the large room. The fire rings showed up against the lighter colored rocks. At the opposite end from where she’d come in, she paused.

“What is this?” she whispered. Wonder sounded in the traces of her voice. Her gaze followed a shaft of sunlight coming from a long slit in the rock above her. Like an arrow, it lit a series of carved circles that spiraled from the center to the edge of light.

Autumn traced the ancient petroglyph. Circles usually represented water, but not this one. The light was shining down like a marker. She stared at the arrow made by the shaft of sunlight. It was like a sundial—a calendar to mark the seasons. She’d seen one in Chaco Canyon that was similar.

This proved that the Anasazi had been here. She pressed against the wall and let the relief wash through her, wondering where the entrance was.

Reluctant to pull away from the petroglyph and its reassuring evidence of life, she managed to explore the rest of the cavern. In another dark corner she found a tunnel. It was narrow and dark, barely wide enough to crawl through.

Not wanting another confining passageway, she looked for other exits. There were none. She returned to the hole and peered in. Like the other tunnels she’d traversed, there was no light at the end. Fear took hold. She could not go in that hole.

Her body refused to respond to her command to move. If that maze didn’t lead to an exit, she wouldn’t be able to draw upon any more inner strength. This effort would be the last she could make. If the tunnel proved to be a dead end, she doubted she’d be able to make it back here. At least here, there were signs of other human beings. She wouldn’t feel so alone when she drifted off into the sleep of death.

She glanced around the room. Filtered light cast shadows on the rough surface of sandstone. Cave art abounded. Walking toward the marked walls, she began to stall.

The animals looked like deer, but they were mountain sheep. She realized her ploy. She knew she didn’t have time to admire the art, yet she moved toward another drawing and traced her fingers on what looked like ears of corn with heads drawn on them. Corn maidens. They were known to have performed dances for a good crop.

Turning, she stared at the gaping hole. She worked at conjuring up courage, as Real Tall Man had taught her, but waves of cowardice washed away the effect. Clasping her turquoise nugget, she struggled to appear composed as she stood alone in the stone tomb.

Sweat trickled down Jess’s back and across his brow. He swiped at his forehead and then tucked the bandanna back into his pocket. The hope he’d allowed during the sing had long since lost its power. It was late morning and there had been no sign of Autumn.

To keep him from noticing the passage of time, he’d thought of every possible way to apologize to her for the cold treatment he’d given her these past months. He wouldn’t allow himself to think of the time they’d wasted while he suspected her of a connection with the drug operation.

“You could have gone to Real Tall Man and asked him,” a voice whispered inside his head. Jess ignored it. Until last night, he’d wanted nothing to do with the ways of The People. If Real Tall Man had assured him of Autumn’s innocence, Jess wouldn’t have believed it.

But now…

He wondered if believing the
hataali
this time had been a fatal mistake. It had been hours and he still hadn’t found any sign of a cave. What a fool he’d been to slip into the old ways. He could be in a chopper right now. And damn, he was tired of the self-doubts.

After shifting the reins to his other hand, he guided his horse up the canyon again. He’d check one last time and then write off Real Tall Man’s dream as a bad hunch.

After checking the box canyon earlier in the day and finding no sign of life, he’d ridden up and down some nearby canyons, in case the
hataali
had misread the signs.

As his horse picked his way through the rock-strewn wash, Jess cursed his judgment again. Why had he listened to Real Tall Man? He should have followed his original plan and headed for the ranch. The sheriff could be at his place by now.