Forbidden Spirits (11 page)

"Good. We'd also want to tell the audience
something about your Nez Perce background. When our people excel, we want it known."

It took a long time for Tyler to answer
because the man was asking him to be something he wasn't, at least not in his heart. He also knew there was a strong possibility that he could lose his chance at getting the contract by responding the way he intended, but he couldn't keep up the pretense. "My great-grandmother was Nez Perce but she was fully assimilated and I know nothing about my Indian heritage," he said. "The rest of my family doesn't even look Indian."

The man studied him for a few moments,
as if he were sizing him up, then he smiled in a way that reminded Tyler of one of his grade-school teachers, and replied, "Then you'll have some time to learn about your heritage, if we decide to go with your act. Use the time wisely."

As Tyler left the office, he was beginning to
think there were forces out there pushing him to recognize his Indian blood. First were the gradual changes in his features about the time he started middle school, when his nose and cheekbones became more prominent and his hair became darker and straighter. And later, when he let his hair grow, for reasons that had nothing to do with looking like an Indian and was all about communicating with horses, people who didn't know his family assumed he was Indian. Then the first women to catch his notice in a serious way
was
an Indian. And now he'd have to
be
an Indian if he wanted the rodeo contract…

"Well, how did it go?" Rose asked, as he climbed into his truck.

"They'll think about it," Tyler responded, and offered nothing more.

"Did the
y see your video?" Rose asked.

"Yes," Tyler replied. "Where to from here?" He knew he didn't want to get into
the
suggested
requirements for getting the contract because Rose would turn it into some kind of animal totem guiding him in a direction he wasn't ready to go. It was like he was balanced between two worlds, and he was beginning to feel like a wolfdog.

Rose pointed, while saying, "Go this way
, and when you leave the parking lot, head back the way we came and I'll show you where to turn."

As
Tyler followed Rose's directions, while turning automatically where she pointed, his driving was on rote, while his mind was occupied with the logistics of reinventing his act from a Roman soldier to, he wasn't sure what—maybe an Indian warrior, or more appropriately an Indian cowboy. He could do that, but the western boots wouldn't work on his mares' backs, and moccasins with western garb would look pretty ludicrous, which brought him back to wearing suede pants with fringes, face paint, a huge feathered war bonnet, and looking like something out of an old Hollywood movie, except that Indians didn't ride standing up…

"Turn here," Rose said, cutting into his thoughts.

Tyler automatically turned into a long gravel driveway that cut between two fenced pastures, with a ranch house and large barn at the far end of the driveway. Several other outbuildings were off to the side of the barn, as well as a corral.

Cutting the engine, he said,
"Whose place is this?"

"My folks," Rose replied.

"Did you call ahead?" Tyler asked. When he suggested she show him around the reservation he'd meant just that, so he wasn't prepared to meet the rest of her family. He already knew what her mother thought of him. Her message to stay clear of Rose had not been subtle.

Rose looked askance at him, and replied,
"I told my mother I'd be coming this afternoon, but that was before you suggested I go with you."

"Then seeing me should make her day," Tyler said, wryly.

"Actually, she'll be gracious and make you feel welcome," Rose said, "but if my brother, Preston, makes any kind of veiled comments about you being a squaw man, just ignore him. He shares my mother and grandmother's views that I should not be in a relationship that could lead to marriage outside of our culture, and he's not shy about voicing his opinion."

"Then you've been in relationships with other guys?" Tyler asked. For some reason he'd assumed he was
her first, though it was not logical thinking.

"I've been in relationships before," Rose said, "but they were with guys I went to high school with
and none were serious. I also did some casual dating in college that I never mentioned to my parents. The reservation is a pretty close community in that the elders are trying to hold onto old traditions, and when young people go off to college or find jobs away from here and marry outside of the culture, traditions no longer matter, which is why our culture was slowly dying and still will, if no one cares."

Tyler
knew she was right. Until meeting her he'd had no interest in his Indian background, and without her in the picture he'd go back to things the way they'd always been. "And your father?" he asked. "What would his position be if what we have now becomes more serious?"

"I don't know
because it's never been an issue," Rose said, "but I guess we'll soon find out, unless you want to pretend I'm just taking you around to see the wigwams and tipis."

"You have those here?" Tyler asked.

"Rose laughed in irony. "Have you seen any so far?"

"
No, but we haven't driven around much either," Tyler replied.

"
That's because there aren't any," Rose said. "What you'll see after we leave here will be some pretty impressive buildings, complements of earnings from the casino the Confederated Tribes own, like a brand new health center, a new school, a governance building, and an elder center. Our tribal members are actually quite civilized now."

"Talk about your brother making veiled comments," Tyler said. "I've never once implied that Indians aren't civilized."

"Not directly, but you think we're backwards because we believe in spirits," Rose replied.

"I think a lot of beliefs are based on legends and mythology that's later disproved by science," Tyler said, "but I don't have a problem with people having their own beliefs."

"Except when those beliefs interfere with something you're doing," Rose pointed out.

Whe
n Tyler didn't respond, because he was getting pretty pissed the way Rose was blowing things all out of proportion when it came to the spring and his opening up a few fissures, Rose took his silence for what it was, and said, "Okay, forget I made that comment and let's go see what my family has to say. At least with Preston you should throw him a curve. He won't be expecting a Hansen with long hair and looking more like an Indian than half his friends, and that's a compliment because you're a very good-looking Indian." She smiled.

"
Then can I have a kiss before we head up this driveway?" Tyler asked, wondering where
that
came from. Moments before he was irritated with Rose and her constant nagging about the spring. But then she gave him one of her smiles, and his mind got jumbled, and all he wanted now was to haul her back to his place and continue what they'd had going there.

It was different the
n. She responded differently. There was no talk of angering spirits or drilling into rock. It was just the two of them in
his
world with his mares, and when he kissed her there, it was like she couldn't get enough of him. But here with her family, in her world, he could feel a big divide, and it started at the rodeo office.

About the time he
figured Rose had no intention of kissing him, she unhooked her seatbelt, slid over beside him and kissed him solidly on the mouth. It was a long, extended kiss, but when it was over, Tyler said, "Thank you. I needed that before heading into Custer's Last Stand."

Rose
gave him another quick kiss, then yanked on his horsetail, and said, "You'll have a hard time convincing them you're Custer. His hair was blond and curly, he had a big drooping mustache, and he didn't look like an Indian. If he had, he might have confused the enemy and won the battle of the Little Bighorn."

"
Maybe I'll get lucky and confuse the enemy," Tyler replied.

"My folks aren't the enemy," Rose
said. "They're just looking out for my best interest."

"I think I get the picture," Tyler replied.

They headed up the long driveway and pulled to a stop in front of the modest ranch house. On entering, the only person home appeared to be Rose's mother, who came from the direction of the kitchen. On seeing Tyler, her expression was clearly one of surprise, but not pleasure.

"You remember Tyler, don't you, Mom?"
Rose asked.

"Yes,"
Helen Starbright replied. Although she was smiling, Tyler knew her smile was insincere because her eyes were dull, and there was a slight flare to her nostrils, like she sensed something disagreeable. Him. "We weren't expecting anyone but Rose this afternoon," she said to him, "but you're welcome to stay for dinner."

"Thanks, but I have to get back to
tend my horses," Tyler replied.

Rose touched his arm lightly
, and said to her mother, "Tyler came to see about including his Roman riding act in the rodeo. Where is everyone?"

"
Granna's taking her afternoon nap, Dad will be home soon, and Preston is out trying, not too successfully, to subdue a mustang he just bought from the BLM," Helen replied.

Tyler glanced out the
dining room window, which was facing behind the house, and saw a corral with a man on a horse that was doing its best to get rid of him, and the horse was being met with the slash of a crop each time it bucked. "Maybe I'll go out and see if I can give him a hand," he said, while wondering where Preston Starbright learned his heavy-handed methods of horse handling. Obviously not from his forebears, if there was anything to what his grandmother told him about the way Indians handled horses.

"Good luck," Rose called after him, as he was leaving.

By the time Tyler got to the corral, Preston was off the horse and giving it a treat, which Tyler presumed was because the horse hadn't actually bucked him off, and Preston managed to slip off his back without being thrown. But Tyler could tell, from the way the horse eyed the treat with distrust, and his nostrils flared, and his stance was stiff, that he was leery of the treat and feared the man, which was understandable.

"He's a nice horse," Tyler said. "I take it you just got him."

"Yeah," Preston replied. "We're having a disagreement about who's boss, and I intend to win."

"Your first mustang?" Tyler asked.

"Yeah, I thought I'd give it a try. Once he's broken he should be a good cattle horse. He looks to be mostly quarter horse."

"Do you mind if I try something with him?" Tyler asked.

"Sure. Have at it if you think you can get the ornery thing to follow instructions," Preston said. "You want
the crop?"

"No," Tyler
replied. "I'll just talk to him some."

Preston looked at Tyler with skepticism
then moved back to lean against the wooden railing surrounding the corral and watched as Tyler slowly approached the mustang from the side, pausing when the mustang's nostrils flared and his mouth became tense and his eyes held an expression of fear.

From where
he stood, Tyler said to the mustang in a low, quiet voice, "I'm going to move closer to you now and you'll tell me when it's close enough. If you feel like you need to get away, there's an escape route behind you." He took a couple of steps closer, but before the mustang gave a sign that he was too close, Tyler eased back. After a couple of minutes he started forward again, while saying to the mustang in the same quiet voice, "Good boy, you're not running from me. You'll be okay. You have a good spirit and I won't break it. You can trust me."

As he said the words, Tyler
edged gradually closer, until the mustang flicked his ears forward, and his eyes became wide with the whites showing. "I'm going to touch you now, just a little brush of my finger, and if that's okay I'll scratch your neck," Tyler explained in the same soft, soothing voice. "Let me know if it's okay, but if it isn't, I'll stop." He took another step closer. "I know this is scary, but stay with me. I'm your friend."

As Tyler spoke,
the mustang's eyes took on more of a questioning expression than one of fear, and he bent his head slightly, as if in curiosity—a man he wanted to befriend, but feared because other men had hurt him.

Over the next few minutes Tyler
talked to the mustang while touching his muzzle, then his face, and cheek, and neck, and finally his chest. When the mustang was comfortable with that, Tyler scratched both sides of his neck at the same time, all the while looking directly into the mustang's eyes and talking to him, and soon he was able to move his hand down one front leg and then the other, while the mustang stood still.

"This is all new to you, isn't it boy? You're not used to people touching you, or to the sights and sounds of a ranch, and everything scares you. It will take time, but when you know you're safe here you'll be okay."
As Tyler talked to the mustang, he hoped Preston got the message that breaking a horse didn't mean breaking his spirit.