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Authors: Marjorie Farrell

Tags: #American Western Historical Romance

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BOOK: Desert Hearts
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“No, we do have special occasions like birthdays or Christmas, when gift-giving is customary.” Serena was quiet, but it was a friendly silence, and Elizabeth sat down next to her and pulled Orion onto her lap.

The Navajo woman reached out and tugged at the dog’s ears, and he licked her fingers.

“You know,” said Elizabeth thoughtfully, “if it is hard to understand just one small different way of doing things, then I don’t wonder that the Diné and the whites are always fighting.”

“But we have taken the time to understand.”

“Yes, but we are women. Do you think women making the treaties might make a difference?” Elizabeth said it jokingly, but found herself wondering if indeed women might be more successful.

“Here is my husband. Why don’t you ask him?”

Elizabeth hadn’t noticed Antonio approaching and she jumped up, forgetting she had Orion on her lap. He yipped as she spilled him on the ground and looked at her with such a hurt expression on his face that all three of them laughed.

“I am Mrs. Woolcott,” said Elizabeth.

“I have heard of you from my wife,” said Antonio, scooping the dog up. “And I have heard about this little dog. I think the lieutenant was right. Manuelito’s dog was certainly this one’s sire.”

“Well, then, Orion has a fine lineage.”

“Sure and he does indeed,” said Michael as he strolled over.

The four of them stood there, quiet for a moment, attention focused on the wriggling dog in Antonio’s arms. All were very aware of each other: a sergeant in the U.S. cavalry, who was a friend of a Navajo headman’s nephew; the wife of an army officer who was forming a friendship with that nephew’s wife; all of them surrounded by people, Navajo and white, who had never crossed such boundaries. Oh yes, there was a group of enlisted men gambling with a group of warriors. And the army wives stopped and fingered blankets and paid compliments to the women. But most Navajo did not speak English. And none of the
bilagaana
spoke Navajo.

Michael broke their silence first. “And is the dog behaving himself, Mrs. Woolcott?”

Elizabeth nodded. “I think receiving a name was a big help, Sergeant Burke. And also your advice on training him. I’ll be able to let him off the leash soon and take him riding with me.”

“Antonio, I was wondering if ye could come with me for a moment,” said Michael, turning to his friend. “The colonel wanted to ask ye about something.”

Antonio frowned. “It is not another lie from a New Mexican, is it?”

“I don’t know anything more than that there was supposedly a raid on thirty miles from here two days ago.”

Serena sighed as the men moved off. “It is those enemy Diné from the mountains.” She almost spat the last two words out. My husband and the headmen try so hard but it is impossible to control all the Diné.” She hesitated. “But let’s not talk of worrisome things. What do you think of that fine-looking sergeant? His hair is almost as black as my husband’s. If it weren’t for those light eyes of his, he would make a fine Diné. His skin is dark enough.”

“Only on his face and neck,” said Elizabeth without thinking.

“Oho, and what do you know of the rest of him?”

Elizabeth was blushing furiously.

“I have never understood why they call us ‘redskin,’ ” said Serena with a grin, “when surely you are the red-skinned ones!”

“Oh dear, I suppose I’ll have to confess. Do you know the little canyon north of the fort? I was out there painting on the day Sergeant Burke arrived at the fort. I came upon him, uh, bathing.”

Serena giggled.

“He doesn’t know, Serena. It would be terribly embarrassing if he did! Anyway, he is very white under his uniform,” Elizabeth said primly.

“Oh, what a shame,” Serena teased.

“Well, he is quite good-looking for all he is not a Diné warrior!”

“There is a shrine in that canyon,” said Serena more seriously.

“Is that what all the feathered sticks are there for?”

“Yes.”

“It is a very beautiful place and I certainly feel as close to God there as I do in a church. Perhaps even closer,” said Elizabeth, thinking of some of the long, boring sermons she had heard over the years.

“You
bilagaana
are very puzzling,” said Serena, patting the spot next to her. Elizabeth sat down again, letting Orion run about on his leash. “It seems very important you have this one God, but then everyone fights over owning him. The Mexicans, the Mormons. And this God is a man.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth responded thoughtfully. “That is, Jesus, His son, was a man. But also God.”

“So there is a father and a son. No mother?”

“Of course, Jesus had a mother. But only the papists worship her,” said Elizabeth.

“What are these papists?”

“Roman Catholics. The Mexicans are papists.” Elizabeth hesitated. “Sergeant Burke is a papist…a Catholic.”

“You sound like you don’t like them.”

“I was brought up to think that they were ignorant and superstitious. You see, we think….”

“Who is we? The
bilagaana?

“Er, no. I am…was a Congregationalist.”

“And what are they? What do they believe?”

“In one God, also. And Jesus.”

“Not in his mother, though?”

“Well, we believe he had a mother, of course. But that she can’t be worshiped. Have you ever been inside a Spanish church, Serena?”

“Yes, some are quite beautiful, though I have never understood why they want to close their gods up in a building.”

“Have you seen the statues and pictures?”

“Yes.”

“Well, some are of Mary, Jesus’ mother, and we Protestants feel they give a devotion to a woman which only belongs to God.”

“Protestants? Is this another group of
bilagaana?
” Serena’s head was spinning trying to keep track of all the variations.

“Oh dear.” Elizabeth had not thought much about the history of Christianity before and never tried to explain it. She had never had to. In Boston, it was just
understood
that Congregationalism was the purest form of belief. But that any Protestant was better than a Catholic. From a Navajo perspective it must sound very confusing. Actually, she realized, it
was
very confusing.

Serena sighed. “There are too many differences to remember.”

“One thing is true, though. All Christians believe in Jesus’ teachings.”

“And what did this Jesus teach?”

“He taught us to love one another, as he had loved us enough to become one of us.”

“One of the
bilagaana
. So…
bilagaana
are only to love other
bilagaana?

“No, no. I think he meant everyone. And I guess you would call him a
bilagaana
, but he was born into a tribe that was enslaved. He was born a Jew. They were a people not too different from the Diné, actually,” said Elizabeth with a smile. “They were a desert people too, and they lived not too differently, raising sheep and cattle. Fighting with neighboring tribes. Then they were conquered by the Romans. I guess, for the Jews, the Romans were the
bilagaana
,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully.

“So your God was born to a people like the Diné?”

Elizabeth smiled and then started to giggle. “I am sorry, Serena. It suddenly seems very funny to me, like things have been twisted inside out over the years. I never really tried to explain it before, and I never saw how far from the beginning of things we have come.”

“I am glad you see how puzzling it is! Of course, one of the most puzzling things is that your God can only be a man. And that his mother can’t be important. Except to the Mexicans. I am beginning to have a little more respect for them,” Serena said thoughtfully.

“Is your God a woman?”

“We don’t have one god. There are long stories of how we came here to Dinetah. And there are three women who are very important to us: Changing Woman, White Shell Woman, and Spider Woman. But to tell the stories would take a long time.”

“Changing Woman? Didn’t you tell me once that she was connected to the celebration for a young girl who becomes a woman?”


Kinaalda
.” Serena smiled. “You remembered.”

“It is one of the few words I know in Navajo, I am ashamed to say. But I did remember.”

“Perhaps….” Serena looked thoughtful.

“Perhaps what?”

“Perhaps the next time there is a ceremony you would like to come?”

Elizabeth was so moved by the offer that she couldn’t say anything at first. Such an invitation was a rare gift and she hardly felt she deserved it.

“Perhaps you wouldn’t,” the Navajo woman said matter-of-factly as she began to fold up her blankets.

Elizabeth put her hand on Serena’s arm. “I would very much like to. I
am honored
that you would invite me.”

Serena nodded and then said thoughtfully, “Some families would not want a
bilagaana
woman at a ceremony. But my sister’s daughter is the right age. She should be close to her
Kinaalda
….” She looked over at Elizabeth and smiled. “It is a four-day ceremony. The last day would be the best for you to see. I will let you know when the time comes.”

* * * *

As Antonio and Serena rode away from the fort, she turned in the saddle and asked her husband what the colonel had wanted.

“To tell me that a raid had occurred and two Mexicans were killed and three thousand sheep taken.”

“Three thousand!”

Antonio gave a sarcastic laugh. “The Diné become better and better thieves whenever something like this happens. Can you imagine a small raiding party handling three thousand sheep?”

“It is Haastin Keshgoli again?”

“Probably. Or some of his young men. We are supposed to send word to all the Diné to keep an eye out for fugitives. To ‘turn them in,’ as the
bilagaana
says,” said Antonio, going from Navajo to English and then back again. “To betray them. They still do not understand this is something we cannot, will not do.”

“Mrs. Woolcott and I were wondering today if we women could do any better.”

Antonio laughed. “I have seen some very fierce
bilagaana
women. And what about Rainbow Walker? Do you think
she
would not fight the new men if she were younger?”

Serena smiled. “Maybe you’re right. I only know that the lieutenant’s wife listens and tries to understand.” She paused. “I have invited her to a
Kinaalda
.”

Antonio lifted his eyebrows but said nothing.

“My niece should be ready for her ceremony soon, I think my sister would not mind. And it would only be for part of the fourth day and the next morning. It felt like a good thing to do, although some of the women may be angry with me.”

“And scared. A cavalry officer’s wife? She’ll come with a full escort. What were you thinking, wife?”

“Maybe she can ride to the canyon with Sergeant Burke and maybe you can send some men there to escort them both.”

“Hmmm.” Antonio considered the idea for a minute. “If Mrs. Woolcott can convince the colonel, I suppose it will be all right. But two
bilagaana
at a ceremony…?”

“I know. But I was thinking with my heart. There is something about the lieutenant’s wife. If she were Diné, I would think that she missed her
kinaalda
. She feels something like a girl to me, even though we’re not that far apart in age. And if the
bilagaana
are here to stay,” she added with a tinge of bitterness, “surely it’s a good idea to make friends with some of them. To help them understand the Diné?”

“It is funny that we both have found a friend amongst them.”

“Yes, and yours is such a good-looking one,” Serena teased. “He fills his uniform in a very satisfying manner.”

“Oh, and I don’t look satisfying to you anymore, wife,” Antonio said, as though he were insulted.

“I still prefer you to a
bilagaana
soldier, husband, don’t worry. But I am sorry that Mrs. Woolcott has to live with an older husband and not someone like Sergeant Burke. But she seems to love the lieutenant, even with his gray hair.”

“Well, love is a strange thing. It made me choose a woman with a sharp tongue when I could have had someone quiet in my hogan.”

“If you wanted someone quiet in your hogan, husband, you surely did choose the wrong woman!”

“I chose the woman I wanted,” said Antonio, pulling his horse close to hers and slipping his arm around her waist for a moment and stealing a kiss before they continued on.

* * * *

Elizabeth spoke that night to Thomas after they went to bed.

“Well, on one hand, it is a great honor to have been asked,” he admitted.

“I know.”

“On the other, it presents some concern for your safety. But if you
must
go…” he added with humor in his voice.

“I would really like to go, Thomas. Although they will understand if I don’t, it feels important to our friendship.”

“Some of the women will think you are strange to be having a friendship with a Navajo.”

“I know, Thomas. Mrs. Taggert particularly hates the Navajo. Or any Indian, for that matter.”

“And for all your eastern ways, you don’t, Lizzie. I’ve always wondered at that.”

“Part of it is being married to you, Thomas. You’ve been an Indian fighter for years, but you do it as your duty, not out of hate. And Mrs. Taggert has a reason for her feelings: she lost a brother and his family to a Ute massacre. What the women don’t understand is that I’ve seen how brutal white men can be,” Elizabeth continued, her voice tight and strained. Thomas put his arm around her. “The Indians have no monopoly on cruelty, Thomas. You and I know that. And I like Serena very much.”

“I’ll ask the colonel when the time comes. If he can spare the men as an escort, he’ll likely let you go, seeing as how it will help relations with the Navajo.”

“Thank you, Thomas. You are such a good husband to me.”

“You are very easy to be good to, Elizabeth,” he said, pulling her closer. “You have made me very happy these past six years. You know that, don’t you?”

BOOK: Desert Hearts
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