Warrior's Embrace (52 page)

Cole would never drive in such a manner, and
Anna couldn’t drive.

Anna
.

Hammer and nails went flying as Eagle rushed
down the ladder. He had his keys out before his feet touched the
ground. The Jaguar burned rubber as he spun out of his
driveway.

Cole’s truck lurched toward an embankment and
teetered there, on the edge. Eagle could see them now, Anna at the
wheel with Clint’s head close to hers. Bucky hung out the
window.

“Anna!” The motor was still running as Eagle
leapt from his car and raced toward them.

His brother’s truck was awash in blood.

“Help me Eagle.” Anna’s voice was weak. “I
must get to Ada.”

Ada was too far. Both Anna and the baby would
be dead before they could get there. Forcing back the terror that
clawed at his gut, Eagle lifted her from the old truck.

“I’m here, Anna. Don’t worry.” Cole’s boys
looked at him like frightened little soldiers. “Bucky, Clint, hop
in the back of my car.”

They scrambled out of the truck, then sat up
on their knees peering over the backseat. Eagle pushed the Jaguar
to its maximum speed. Death rode shotgun.

He talked to reassure himself as much as Anna
and the boys.

“You’ve done a good job taking care of your
mother. When your little brother gets here . . .”

“...sister,” Anna said.

“When your little sister comes, she’ll know
how brave her brothers are.”

“I b’ave,” Bucky said while Clint nodded
solemnly.

Blood puddled on the front seat. Eagle
pressed the accelerator to the floor.

There was only one person who could help them
now.

Kate’s coffee sat on the edge of her desk
getting cold as she wrote a letter to her mother. “Things are going
well with me. My clinic has brought modern medicine to Witch Dance,
and I expect to make a great contribution to the health and welfare
of the Chickasaw Nation.”

Lies. All lies.

She laid her pen aside and went to the
window. The land was impossibly beautiful with high, clear skies
untouched by pollution and tall, strong trees arrayed in as many
colors as Joseph’s coat. She pressed her forehead against the
windowpane. The glass was cool against her skin.

According to Deborah, the old prognosticators
were saying the winter would bring many snows. Still, no one said
much of anything to Kate. It was almost as if she didn’t exist.

She returned to her desk and picked up her
pen once more. If she didn’t have patients soon, she’d have to
leave Witch Dance. Her money wouldn’t last forever.

“Kate!”

At the sound of Eagle’s voice, she dropped
her pen. Something was terribly wrong. Eagle Mingo, the last of the
great stoics, never raised his voice.

“
Kate!
” he yelled once more.

And suddenly he was there, standing in the
doorway, holding a pregnant woman. Her blood covered his arms.

“Merciful God!” Shock riveted Kate to the
floor.

“Help her, Kate.”

Mentally she shook herself. If she didn’t get
a move on, her first patient was going to die. And along with her,
the baby.

“This way.” She ran ahead of Eagle, already
planning how she would do the surgery without assistance. “Hurry.
There’s no time to lose.”

Kate’s hands shook as she scrubbed. On the
table the woman groaned.

“The children,” she whispered.

Two little boys stood in the doorway,
clutching each other’s hands and watching with rounded eyes.

“Take them out, Eagle,” she said, working
frantically as she talked. Time was running out. “There are
coloring books in the reception room. When you get them settled,
come straight back here.” She found the vein, and inserted the
needle. The woman would be asleep very quickly, and then Kate could
save them.

Two lives in her hands.
Brian and
Charles
.

No. Mother and baby. She was not in the
ocean; she was in her clinic with a patient who had placenta
previa.

Sweat poured off Kate’s forehead. By all the
saints, would she be equal to the task? She lifted her eyes to
Eagle’s.

“I need you,” she whispered.

“I’ll be right back.”

She was only vaguely aware of his leaving.
Time stood still as she worked.

“Don’t you worry,” she said. “I won’t let you
die. I
won’t
.”

“Kate?”

Eagle stood in the doorway, his eyes and face
tragic.

“Scrub up, then get in that gown and mask and
those gloves.” She nodded toward the supply closet. “I’ll need you
to take the baby.”

Thank God, he didn’t ask questions.

Who was she, this pregnant woman? And why was
Eagle carrying her?

“Her name is Anna Mingo,” Eagle said as if
he’d read her thoughts. Kate jerked her head toward him.

“My brother’s wife,” he explained. Over the
mask, his eyes held hers.

God would surely strike her dead for the
selfish, immoral thoughts she was having even while she tried to
save lives.

“I’m going to save your brother’s wife ...and
his baby.”

“I know you will, Kate. Your hands are
skilled.”

Hell was tame compared to the fires Eagle
Mingo kindled. Kate kept her hands and mind functioning, even while
her body went up in flames.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She lifted the tiny, puckered baby from its
mother’s womb, and, trembling, held the infant toward Eagle.

“It’s a girl,” she whispered, unaware of the
tears streaming down her face. “A perfect baby girl.”

Eagle braced his hands under Kate’s, and
together they held the tiny miracle, a miracle that might have been
theirs.

For a moment man, woman, and child were
bonded by magic, and then reality intruded.

“Suction her while I suture the mother,” Kate
said.

“How?”

“That syringe with the bulb.”

They worked side by side until the angry
mewling cry of the newborn rent the silence.

There was no basinet for the latest Mingo
except a large box lined with towels. With her patient taken care
of, Kate prepared the makeshift basinet, then tenderly cleaned the
baby while Eagle held her.

All her maternal instincts came to the fore,
and she cooed softly to the newborn as she swaddled her in a clean
towel.

“Yes, my precious, yes.” There was tenderness
in her voice and wonder in her face as she touched the tiny cheek.
“You’re a fighter, that’s what you are.” Kate counted the baby’s
fingers and inspected her toes. She ran her hands over the tiny rib
cage, then lifted her face to Eagle.

“She’s perfect,” she whispered.

Two shiny tears traced down her cheeks.
Aching with love and gratitude, Eagle reached toward Kate’s
glistening face. She stood in the humming silence, waiting.

To touch her would be to undo everything he’d
worked for, everything he believed in. He let his hand drop and
pretended to be busy arranging the baby’s makeshift blanket.

“Will Anna be all right?”

“She’ll be fine.” Kate stepped apart, her
face a mask of professionalism.

“You saved their lives. The Mingos won’t
forget you.”

Nor would she forget them. Especially Eagle.
Always, Eagle.

They put the baby in her box then called the
boys, who immediately fell in love with their baby sister. By the
time Anna awoke, Cole had arrived, breathless and
terror-stricken.

“You have a daughter, Cole,” Anna whispered.
“Her name is Mary Doe.”

Cole kissed his wife and his baby, then took
Kate’s hand.

“I’ll always be grateful to you.”

Standing quietly in a corner, Eagle watched,
remembering the sweet burden of the baby and the glow on Kate’s
face as she counted the tiny toes.

She glanced across the room then slowly made
her way to him.

“Thank you for helping, Eagle,” she said.

“Do you need me for anything else, Kate?”

She stood before him like a long-stemmed
rose, and in that fragile crystal moment he hoped she would say,
Yes. Yes, Eagle Mingo. Stay.

“No, Eagle,” she said, as he’d known she
would. Kate Malone was too proud to beg. “I don’t need you.”

The moment shattered with an almost audible
tinkle.

Eagle left her quickly, going out the door
without saying good-bye. He got into his car and drove away at a
terrifying speed, never stopping until he came to the Blue
River.

And when he stood on its banks he lifted his
clenched fists to the sky.

“
Waka ahina uno, iskunosi
Wictonaye
,” he cried. “
Waka
.”

His lonely cries echoed through the hills and
came back to him as the howling of a wolf.

With arms outstretched he sank to his knees
and hid his face against Mother Earth.

She received his tears, taking them deep into
her bosom, where they would transfuse and be sent up to Father Sky.
And in the winter when the winds blew cold and the snows piled in
drifts over the prairies of Witch Dance, Kate would gaze at the
brightest stars in the heavens, never knowing she was seeing the
tears of Eagle.

Up from the waters rose a
serpent, spewing his venom over the land,

And neither the hatchet nor
the bow nor the cries of the people could break his
back.

Stars fell from the sky like
tears, and the lamentations of the women echoed over the
land.

Two who were brave defied the
death dance and were whirled away on the wind.

Chickasaw Tribal Lands

Autumn 1994

“Can’t catch me ...can’t catch me,” Bucky
chanted as he ran.

“Can too ...can too.” Mary Doe was right
behind him.

Nothing ever stopped his little sister. She
could do anything a boy could ...almost.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder. She was
gaining on him, and if he didn’t do something quickly, she was
going to win. Surefooted as a mountain goat, he stepped onto the
narrow foot log that crossed Witch Creek.

Mary Doe wouldn’t dare follow him, because
she was afraid of heights.

Beneath him, the water skipped over the
pebbles. Brown leaves and a rusty tin can floated by. And one big
fish, belly-up.

Halfway across, Bucky turned to stick out his
tongue at Mary Doe.

“You think I’ll let that old creek stop me,
Bucky Mingo. Watch.” Mary Doe rolled up her jeans and waded into
the water.

“Mary Doe! Don’t.”

“I’m not going to let you win.”

“Mama said don’t play in the water. It’s too
cold.”

“It’s not cold ...see?” Holding her nose, she
plunged under.

Bucky felt his heart sink. Mary Doe was sure
to win now. She could swim like a fish.

He ran as hard as he could across the log,
but Mary Doe got to the other side first. She was waiting for him
on the bank, wet and grinning.

“I won.” Bucky could see a big gap where her
front tooth was missing.

He’d worried when Mary Doe first got that
hole in her smile, but Daddy had said when he was little his teeth
fell out too. Not to worry, he’d said, they would grow back.

“I knew that all along,” Bucky had told his
daddy. “I was just checking to see if you did.”

Of course he hadn’t exactly remembered the
details, but he certainly didn’t remember looking as ugly as Mary
Doe with that big old hole in her smile.

Now she stretched her mouth from ear to ear,
grinning because she beat him.

“I’m telling,” he said, feeling mean. “I’m
telling you went swimming when it wasn’t even summer.”

Mary Doe stuck out her chin. Daddy always
said she was the stubbornest of the bunch.

“If you tell, I’ll beat you up,” she
said.

“You can’t whip me. You’re a sissy.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Bucky! Mary Doe! Stop that fussing and let’s
go.” Clint climbed down from the tree, shoved his knife back into
his pocket, and took their arms. High up in the tree, where he’d
been sitting, a newly carved heart shone white against the bark.
C.M. loves L.W., it said. “Nobody’s going to tell anybody anything,
understand?”

Clint looked as fierce as that old bobcat
Bucky had seen up in the mountains the previous fall. He’d be glad
when he got to be thirteen so he could boss everybody around.

They sneaked Mary Doe in the back of the
house so Mama wouldn’t see her wet clothes. Later, after they’d all
gone to bed, Bucky was dreaming about running across Witch Creek,
winning.

“Bucky Bucky . . .” He opened one eye. Mary
Doe was standing by his bed in her pajamas. “I don’t feel so
good.”

“It’s ‘cause you got cold in the creek, Mary
Doe. Hush up and go back to your own bed.”

“No, I really don’t.”

She fell onto the floor and just lay
there.

“Mary Doe,” he whispered. She didn’t respond.
“Mary Doe.” Bucky jumped out of bed and knelt beside his sister.
She didn’t move.

Suddenly he didn’t feel too good either.

“Mama!” he yelled. “Daddy!”

His head got dizzy, and he felt the floor
coming up to meet him.

o0o

All the beds in the clinic were occupied.
Three years earlier, when Kate had added the six-bed unit to the
clinic, she’d never dreamed it would have two people at one time,
let alone six.

She moved from bed to bed, checking pulses,
studying charts.

“Kate?” Deborah appeared in the doorway, her
skin dark against the crisp white of her nurse’s uniform. “It’s the
Mingo children.”

“Pull their charts, Deborah. I’ll be right
there.”

After Deborah left, Kate stood amid the white
beds and pressed her hand over her heart. The Mingo children! Not
them too.

“Everything is going to be all right,” she
assured Anna and Cole later as she examined the children, but in
her heart she knew it wouldn’t. All the signs were there. The
yellow-hued skin and eyes, the fatigue, the brown-colored urine
sample.