MM02 - Until Morning Comes (9 page)

“Jo Beth, the bottom line is that you are probably doing your father more harm than good by taking him with you everywhere you go. Strange places can be upsetting to people whose minds have a tenuous grasp on reality.”

“Rick tried to tell me the same thing, but I wouldn't listen. He finally shut up and let me have my way.”

“Rick didn't have as much at stake as I do. Let's lie down a while, Jo.” Together they lay on the blanket.

“What you say makes sense, but still... I'd feel guilty leaving them with nobody but strangers all the time. And I can hardly take all my assignments in Tupelo.” She sighed and closed her eyes.

“It's a matter of scheduling. You can live anywhere in the world, work anywhere in the world, and still schedule regular visits with your parents. And there's always the telephone. Sometimes telephone visits are just as uplifting as personal ones... Jo?”

She was fast asleep. Colter covered her bare legs with his and gazed up at the stars.

How easy it was, he thought, to solve Jo's problems, and how hard it was to solve his own. He'd left the modern world behind and come to the desert in order to be alone, thinking that he could reconcile this division of loyalties, this division of his soul, in solitude. But Fate had sent him Jo Beth, the antithesis of everything Native American.

Just as he had been on the brink of a decision to close his practice in San Francisco and go back to the reservation, his beautiful Yellow Bird had appeared. She was his chosen woman; he knew that. But could she ever fit into life on the reservation? Would she want to? And was that really what he wanted, to leave behind his friends, his practice, his city—and San Francisco had become his city.

Was it possible for him to go home again? When Jo Beth's assignment here was finished, he would find out.

o0o

Jo awakened to the sound of water splashing. She opened her eyes and found herself staring at a pale gray sky. For a moment she was disoriented, and then she smiled. Turning her head toward the sound, she saw Colter, bathing in the stream.

He smiled at her. “It will soon be morning, Jo.” He held out his hand.

She shed his denim shirt and joined him. The water was cool, and she shivered.

He came to her and wrapped her in his arms. “Need someone to keep you warm?”

“Is that an offer?”

“One I hope you can't refuse.”

He lifted her up, and they stood in the middle of the swirling stream, saying good morning and good-bye at the same time. Then they finished their bath, dressed, and rode away toward Jo Beth's cabin.

The morning sun was decorating the sky when he helped her off the stallion and onto her front porch. He leaned down for one last kiss.

“I must hurry,” she said softly.

“Listen for my call, Yellow Bird.”

He wheeled away and headed across the desert. Jo slipped inside to bed.

Chapter Six

Their routine held for six more days—the call of the turtledove, the ride through the night to his tepee, the return to her cabin just before morning came.

On the sixth night she rose from his blanket and stood in the opening of his tepee, looking out across the desert.

“I finished my assignment today, Colter. I’ll be leaving.”

“I thought you might.” He came and stood behind her. “Lean on me, Jo.”

She rested her back against him. He buried his face in her pale hair. They stood that way for a while, and then Colter spoke.

“I want you to go with me.”

“Where?”

“Into the White Mountains to meet my family.” He kissed the top of her head. “I'm not asking for commitment. At least not yet. I want you to see my home, to know my background, to understand who I am.”

She turned to face him. “Colter, did you find what you were looking for out here in the desert?”

“Only you, Jo. I found only you.”

She leaned her back against him once more, drawing his arms around her waist. “I’ll go with you, Colter. Give me time to make arrangements for my parents.”

“I’ll help you.”

o0o

Later that morning, after she had talked to her parents, she and Colter went into Tucson. She drove the rented Jeep and he drove his borrowed truck, pulling the horse trailer behind him. While he returned the truck and the stallion and made arrangements for their trip, she placed a call to Tupelo.

After six rings, she gave up on Rick and called Andrew. He answered on the first ring. She could hear his bird dogs howling in the background.

“Andrew, can you hear me?”

“Is that you, Jo Beth? Can you speak up?”

“I'm staying in Arizona a while longer. Can you meet Mom and Dad at the airport?”

“You're flying in? When?”

“No.
They're
flying in. Can you pick them up and get them settled into their house? They are both eager to come home.”

“I’ll not only see them safely settled, I’ll take them out on the town. A welcome-home party. Heck, I might even invite two or three buddies of mine. We could get a keg—”

“Andrew.” She rolled her eyes heavenward.

“What?”

“Just pick them up and forget the party. Can I trust you?”

“What kind of question is that to ask your one and only, most sought-after bachelor brother in the entire state? I'm as trustworthy as the First Mutual Bank, and a heck of a lot better looking.”

“You're a clown, too. Thanks, Andrew.”

By ten o'clock the next day, Silas and Sara were on a plane going home, while Colter, Jo Beth, and Zar headed north into the White Mountains. Colter had rented something larger and more substantial than her Jeep—a Dodge Ram Charger with plenty of room for her equipment and his supplies.

o0o

It took them three hours to reach his Apache home. Colter was strangely quiet during their journey. Jo Beth was accustomed to his watchful silences, but this quietness was different. It was disturbing rather than tranquil. Apprehension pricked at her nerves and caught at her heart.

She tried to initiate severed conversations, but each one died for lack of adequate response. Finally she contented herself with alternately watching Colter and the scenery.

They crossed the Salt River. The reservation lay just north, more than a million acres of beautiful mountain country.

Suddenly, Colter pulled the truck off the steep mountain road and parked. He and Jo Beth stood on a lookout point that allowed them a panoramic view of the vast land. She turned from the view to watch his face. It gave away nothing.

“How long since you've been here, Colter?”

“Too long.” He studied the mountains in silence, then added, “Three years, Jo Beth. Except for Mother, who makes the trek to San Francisco once a year, I haven't seen my family nor the land of Tin-ne-ah for three years.”

“Tin-ne-ah?”

“The People. That's what we usually call ourselves. Apache was a name given to us by others.” He held out his hand. “Come.”

They drove thirty minutes more before his mother's house came into sight. Jo leaned forward. She didn't know what she had expected, but not the neat white frame house snuggled between tall pines. There was even a white picket fence and a mailbox, painted blue, that proclaimed
Patricia Gray Lives Here.
To the west, in a paddock as well ordered as any that handled Kentucky racing stock, a magnificent white stallion and three sorrel mares romped.

Colter parked the truck, then held out his hand to Jo Beth.

“Are you ready, Jo?”

“I'm a little nervous. Do you think your mother will like me?”

“When she gets to know you, I believe she will love you. But don't expect too much. The Apaches don't show much emotion.”

“I could argue with that.”

He smiled. “Only in certain circumstances.”

Jo Beth took his hand, and together they climbed from the truck.

o0o

Patricia Gray, known as Little Deer to everyone except the mailman, saw them coming. She'd been watching from the window for two hours, eager to see the friend Colter had said he was bringing home. She smiled when her tall son emerged from the fancy truck. Nothing but the best for her Gray Wolf, she thought.

Her smile froze when she saw his friend, a slender woman with hair the color of jonquils and skin like milk. She put her hand over her heart and eased into her chair. That Colter could do such a thing to her in her old age was astonishing. She rocked back and forth, muttering to herself. She'd not look. When they came in, she'd pretend she had forgotten they were coming.

Curiosity got the best of her. She parted the curtain and peered out the window again. They were holding hands. Her son was going to send her to an early grave.

She leaned her head back in her chair and closed her eyes. Maybe she was having a heart attack. Maybe she was going to the Spirit World at that very moment, even as her son, who could have been the greatest shaman on the reservation, was coming through the door.

“Mother.”

She kept her eyes closed, leaned her head back, and began to rock, very fast. The rocker was old and creaky and not accustomed to such punishment, but she didn't care. Perhaps it would fall into splinters, and she'd die there on her freshly swept floor, right in front of their eyes.

“Mother.” She could feel them both standing by her chair. “Are you ill, Mother?”

“I'm feeling faint. I guess it's the shock.” She opened her eyes and looked directly at the yellow-haired woman.

Colter's hand tightened on Jo Beth's. He'd expected surprise and even resistance, but he'd never expected such an outrageous reaction from his mother.

He bent down and felt her pulse. It was as steady and reliable as the old clock on the mantle. He straightened back up. He wasn't going to coddle her.

“Mother.” He made his voice sharp enough so that she would know he meant business. “I want you to meet my friend, Jo Beth McGill.”

Little Deer gave the woman a cunning smile, and then she began to speak in rapid Athabascan. She complimented the stranger her son had brought home on her pale hair, her pale skin, and her pale eyes. Finally, she had to pause for breath.

“Jo Beth, Mother welcomes you to our home.” Colter's face didn't register his anger. “Mother, speak English, please. Our guest does not understand Athabascan.”

Little Deer got up from her chair. “I will show our guest her room. She must be tired from the trip.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gray. I would like to store my things.”

Little Deer smiled with satisfaction. The woman was foolish. Nobody but the mailman called her Mrs. Gray.

“Follow me.” She led Jo Beth from the room while Colter went to get their belongings.

Her house was L-shaped, with two bedrooms in the east wing and two on the far north. Colter and his brother had occupied the east rooms, while she and her husband had occupied the two on the north. Since she was the only one left in the house, with Gray Fox long since dead and both her sons gone, she kept the north wing all to herself and let guests use the east bedrooms.

She made a quick change of plans. “Miss McGill, I hope you find this room satisfactory.” Little Deer discreetly knocked a cobweb off the dresser as she walked by. “I think you’ll enjoy this northern exposure. My room is right next door, in case you need anything.”

“That's very kind of you.”

When Colter's mother didn't reply, Jo Beth stood uncertainly in the doorway. She didn't know what to say to this strange woman. She wanted to put her arms around her and say, “I love your son and I want to love you too.” But she sensed Mrs. Gray's resistance. The situation called for patience, a virtue she didn't possess. She supposed she'd have to learn from Colter.

She entered the room. “There is a lovely view from the window.”

Mrs. Gray remained silent. Jo Beth tried again.

“Colter said it was all right to bring my dog. I hope you don't mind.”

Again, silence. Jo Beth was desperately searching for something else to say when Colter appeared in the doorway with her bags. She'd never been so happy to see a person in all her life.

“Of course, she doesn't mind. Do you, Mother?” He glanced at his mother as he came into the room and stowed Jo Beth's bags.

“If my son says the dog is welcome, he is welcome.” Little Deer sat down in a chair beside the bed and folded her hands.

Colter knew exactly what his mother was doing. She had instantly labeled Jo Beth an outsider, unsuitable for her son, and had deliberately made her inaccessible to him in the house.

Now she was watching them both with her eagle eyes to make sure Jo Beth didn't work love magic on him. If he had been the grinning kind, he would have grinned. What his mother didn't know was that Jo had already worked love magic on him.

Coming home again was going to be hard, and coming home with Jo Beth even harder. He crossed the room and put his arm around Jo Beth's waist. She was stiff with tension.

“Why we go into the kitchen and all have a cup of tea?” he said.

“I don't serve company in the kitchen. I will serve in the den.” Little Deer got up and shuffled slowly across the room.

“Have you developed arthritis, Mother?”

“It's the agony of life.” His mother looked at Jo Beth, then turned and left the room.

“I don't think she likes me,” Jo Beth whispered.

“She'll come around.” Colter squeezed her waist. “The important thing is that I like you.”

Jo Beth smiled at him, and they followed his mother into the den.

Little Deer sat on a small sofa and patted the seat. “Come, my son. Sit beside me. We haven't seen each other for too long.”

Colter knew what she was up to, but in order to keep peace, he sat on the two-seater beside her. Jo Beth took a chair opposite them.

“You look good, my son. How have you been in that heathen city?”

“I wish you would visit more often and see for yourself, Mother. Remember the ballet you loved so well? The
Nutcracker Suite
? It will be playing again soon.”

Little Deer started to smile, then remembered herself. “The ballet is a silly dance with no purpose.” She stood up. “I'll bring the tea.”

“Can I help you, Mrs. Gray?”