Sacred Ground (32 page)

"Have you looked at my records?"
Willow
asked, suddenly embarrassed she hadn't thought of it sooner. "If I'm compatible, I'd be willing―"

"We already checked. We will be getting blood from you for Lance. Your blood type is not a go for Sean. We have a few leads and are checking John Steals Many Horses and even Brett, here. He'd admitted―"

"No need to say it,"
Willow
interrupted, looking over at Sean. "We are aware of the circumstances.
With that in mind, why even check?"

"At this point, we're willing to try all our avenues." Doctor Fulburn reached for the lab reports a nurse handed him. "Mr. Turner, your mother specified under no circumstances would she allow us to use any stored blood. She has a true fear of AIDS contamination. I tried assuring her about our testing, but she wouldn't even listen. Either we find at least one compatible donor, or we won't have a choice. You'd be surprised . . .
" he
paused, reading with interest.

Silence filled the room.
Willow
struggled to read his expression, but it remained neutral.

"Mr. Turner, I don't know how to tell you this. I mean, it's obvious you love your son and his . . ." Doctor Fulburn paused, and then continued in a hushed tone, "
parentage
is of no, shall we say, importance to you. How would you feel if I were to tell you our tests show
conclusively
that you're Sean's father in every sense of the word?"

Brett rubbed his palms over his face. "I knew there was a possibility, but
Lorraine
insisted he wasn't mine. She seemed to gloat over the fact. Lord, I didn't know. I only wish I'd learned this under different circumstances. Does this mean I can be a donor?"

Doctor Fulburn shuffled the papers, and then paused to read a sheet of numbers. "I'm relieved to say you and his grandfather are both compatible."

"When can you do surgery?"
Willow
asked, anxious to get it done and over with.

"Now."

* * *

The night seemed like a year to Brett. He felt certain they all had aged during the wait. Glancing at his
parents
across the room, he saw as well as felt their love and concern. He'd never imagined his mother with a man, especially not an Indian.

Willow
had finally fallen asleep. He held her head in his lap, wanting desperately to give her the support and reassurance she needed.

"You want some coffee?" a soft voice asked.

Brett looked up into brown eyes similar to Willows. "Thanks, Mary Wolf," he said, reaching for the cup. "You live on the reservation?" He felt stupid the minute he asked it.

"No, actually I live in
Missoula
with my husband and three boys. I drove up to Browning to spend time with Mom and Dad."

"What's your husband's name?" Brett asked.

"Bill Wolf. He's an airline mechanic. I'm a pharmacist." Mary sat in a chair to his left. "Didn't quite expect that, did you? Don't look so embarrassed, most don't. It seems the stereotype of drunken Indian, lazy wife living on the Res follows us around. We're used to it."

"I would be lying if I didn't say I'm impressed. You're right about the stigma, and I won't pretend it doesn't matter anymore. I've got a lot to learn, but give me time."

"I think
Willow
finally found the right man. I approve, and I'm happy for you both. We all really like Sean. He's a great kid. Your mother has been a very important woman to our People for a long time.” Mary took a sip of her coffee. “I can see you're surprised."

"I think shocked is more the word. I can't begin to tell you what it's like to discover I have a father, respectable at that. I have fallen in love with my strong-headed neighbor and I now have two sons who are giving me more gray hairs than I care to count. I've never been happier." Brett shook his head at how crazy it all sounded.

A slow smile spread across Mary's face, enhancing her resemblance to
Willow
. She turned her head and Brett followed her gaze. He drew in a ragged breath at the sight of the white jacket.

"It's early, folks, but I knew you'd be waiting, praying for a couple miracles. I'm going to be blunt," Doctor Anders said, pulling up a chair.

Brett shook
Willow
's shoulder and he felt her tense at the sight of Doctor Anders. She sat quickly. Brett found her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

"Well?" she asked.

"I won't beat around with fancy words and details. Both surgeries went better than I could have hoped for. Lance’s thumb has been sewn back on, and his color is looking better than I had expected. Of course we’ll keep a close watch and make sure it progresses well."

Brett struggled to keep his eyes dry and pulled
Willow
's shaking shoulders against his chest.

"I removed the tumor and we sent it onto the lab. It gave me no indications to worry. It's too early to see signs of him improving, but I'm confident we will soon."

"Thank you,"
Willow
whispered.

"Can we see him?" Brett asked.

"He needs to stay in ICU for a couple of days, and then we'll move him to a regular room for the rest of his recovery. I'll have the nurse get you when he comes out of the anesthetic. You'll be able to visit him one at a time right now and more later as he improves. He'll need a lot of rest. Mom and Dad can stay with him all the time, in shifts if you prefer. He'll need to know you're there at all times."

"We will be." Brett took a breath. "I have a favor to ask. Could you put Lance and Sean in the same room, ICU, too? They'll be the best therapy for each other."

"I agree." Doctor Anders stood. "I'll see that it's taken care of. I don't want to make it all seem slight, Lance has been through quite an ordeal, but all indications are remarkably good. I saw Doctor Fulburn coming out of surgery as I came this way. I'll go tell him you're all here waiting."

Willow
sagged against him, and he hugged her close. He closed his eyes, afraid to reveal his overwhelming emotions. Lance had been the serious one. He didn't take Sean's condition lightly, but fixing a broken bone seemed like a picnic in comparison to what Lance had gone through.

"Morning, folks," Doctor Fulburn said.

Brett couldn't help thinking how much the man sounded like Doctor Anders. Taking another deep breath, Brett sat perfectly still, anxious for the results.

"I'm glad to hear Lance is doing so well. His brother has been through an awful ordeal, himself. He's received one pint of blood and I've repaired his arm. It was a serious break and as it looks, he'll have limited movement for awhile―"

"What kind of limited movement?" Brett jumped to his feet. "I thought it was relatively simple. Pull it in place and put in a couple bolts or whatever. Isn't that what you said?"

"Calm down, Mr. Turner. You must understand any bone snapped like Sean's arm, and breaking through the skin, isn't a simple matter. Sean is young and he'll heal relatively fast. The young fellas make fools of us fossils. We must face a few facts, though," Doctor Fulburn said, sitting in a stiff, waiting room chair.

"What facts?" Brett asked, sitting back down, but remaining straight-backed.

"For one, the pins will remain in place for quite some time. I won't remove them until I'm certain the healing is complete. He'll need therapy, and as he grows it may give him some pain. But the boy is lucky. He's strong and the worst is behind him. I'll keep you folks informed of any changes. He'll be moved into his room after the anesthetic wears off. We'll let you know."

Brett rose and extended his hand. "Thank you.
Willow
and I realize you did a lot for Sean and we appreciate it. We're fortunate they're both alive. I shudder to think how close we came to losing them."

Doctor Fulburn rose and shook Brett's hand briefly. "You're welcome. I'll stop in to check on Sean later today," he added, then walked away.

"What do you all say we go get us a big breakfast, then come back and check on the boys?" John asked, getting to his feet.

Brett suddenly realized his stomach growled in agreement.
"Go on down to McDonalds.
Willow
and I will join you in a bit. Mom would you go with . . .
Dad
, and I'll . . ." He looked down at his cast. "Mom, do you mind if
Willow
drives your car?" He took the keys she offered and slipped them into his pocket.

"Sounds fine with me.
We'll see you in a bit, then." John squeezed Brett's arm.

Brett looked into his father’s eyes and felt his fill with tears. He wasn't sure who made the first move, maybe they both did, but within seconds Brett found his father's arms around him. Unashamedly, Brett wept. Hearing his father sob, Brett hugged him closer. They'd waited a long time for this moment.

They parted as mutually as they'd joined. "Thanks for being there for me," Brett said, his voice unsteady.

"I have always been there, Shadow Chaser," he said. "I will always be there for you," he added, then turned to follow the others down the long corridor.

Brett stood watching him. A man he could be proud to call father. "
Willow
, I realize this has been one hell of a day for us both, but we pulled through like a real family." He took her hand in his. "During all that waiting I couldn't help thinking about you and
me,
and of course the boys."

"It's been draining, yet I feel grateful," she said. "When I think about what could have been, I shudder. All I could think about was our being a family. How much the boys wanted to be brothers and how devastated the other would have been if . . . it would have been hard."

"I agree." He rubbed her palms with his thumbs. "I'm sorry for being so pig-headed back at the house. I'm sorry for hurting you. It really doesn't matter anymore, the Indian thing. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes. It'll take time to adjust, that I'm sure. John will help, and so will I," she whispered into his ear, and then left a soft kiss to seal it.

"I can't live without you as my wife,
Willow
. I know this isn't an appropriate place, but I need to ask you again, will you marry me?" He watched her warm, slow smile and waited to hear the right word.

"I answered yes before, and I haven't changed my mind."

"You've made me a happy man, Willow Howling Moon." If ever a kiss said all the things he felt, this one did. He pulled her into his arms and held her.

"And, you've made me a happy woman, Brett Turner. I still can't believe we've managed to mend the fences between us. I have a feeling there's a lot of people who will never believe we have." She laughed and kissed him, soft and intimate.

* * *

"Father, I realize you've done much for the boys this past week,"
Willow
said, moving an arm around his shoulder, "but you can't continue to burn
sweetgrass
in this room. There are rules about burning things in a hospital and―"

"Now, Willow, I don't need you scolding me too," Antelope Tipi said, shaking a rattle.

"Your prayers have been answered. Look at them," she said in a soft tone. "They're sleeping in peace. They have no pain and both have good coloring in their cheeks. Between you and John, the boys were never in any danger."

"Yes. We work well together. He tells me the white buffalo calf is doing well, as is Little Thunder.
Brothers, different, yet alike."
Antelope Tipi put the rattle, feathers, and the remaining
sweetgrass
into a leather pouch. "It is a sign that we must learn to live in harmony together."

Willow
checked both boys and then followed her father out of the room. "Yes, I hear you. Brett and I are working on that one," she said, a hint of laughter in her tone. "He seems so much happier since he's found out John Steals Many Horses is his father. I think he needed to know where he came from before he could continue on with his journey in life."

"There is much truth in that, Willow Howling Moon. We are the extension of our ancestors. Not to know who they are would be confusing and give us no direction. It must have been difficult for Brett Shadow Chaser not to know who his father was.
Difficult to face the questions of his son, when he had no answers to give."