Red Thunder Reckoning. Sylvie Kurtz
He ran a hand over the scars that landscaped his cheeks like a dropped puzzle. The ugliness was his due.
“Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?” she insisted on a wheeze.
“I’m worried about you.”
She nodded and looked away. “I’m going home tonight.”
“No, don’t say that.” Sitting on the edge of the bed he took her frail hand in his.
“It’s time.” Her eyes implored understanding. “This robe no longer fits. It’s so heavy.”
He didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to lose her.
Her gaze once again sought the flowers swaying in the breeze, then searched the hills fading into darkness. “Take me to the ranch. I want to see the stars rising over the mountains.”
“Grandmother…”
She tugged at the tubes dangling from her nose, then swept the room with a hand. “This is not my wish.”
Dying, a stranger among strangers. He couldn’t blame her. She’d wandered all of her life, picking up bits and pieces of Native American philosophy along the way. He wasn’t sure what kind or if she even had any Indian blood. All he knew was that because of Nina he’d learned to make peace with most of his demons and had found a noble purpose in life. If she wanted to “shed her robe” watching the evening stars rise over the mountains, who was he to deny her her final wish?
“It’s those damn cigarettes of yours.” Gritting back a flash of anger, he strode to the closet and yanked her purple jacket off the hanger.
“Pah! Cigarettes, whiskey, demons. They all get you in the end. I’ve had a long walk on the good Red Road. I have no regrets. It’s just the start of another circle, Pajackok.”
“I know.” She’d told him enough stories about life and circles and connections. Hanging on to her when she was in such pain was selfish. But he still needed her wisdom, still needed her friendship…still needed her love.
He supported her as they walked down the corridor, wheeling the oxygen bottle behind them. She greeted everyone with a smile. Despite his silent plea, no one tried to stop her. In his truck, he tucked a clean horse rug around her knees and switched the heat to high to keep her warm.
On the hill overlooking the grazing horses she’d raised, a peace he hadn’t seen for months came over her face. In the moonlight the horses were nothing more than dark shapes, moving slowly to the rhythm of their hunger. She sat and motioned for him to join her.
“This is a good place,” Nina said.
“You should have bought your own ranch years ago.” He tucked the blanket around her knees and lifted the hood of her coat onto her head.
“I didn’t feel the need.” She stared at the sky as if it were a gazing ball. “Do the demons still visit you at night?”
Her question took him by surprise and he found the denial strangling in his throat. How could she possibly know about the demons?
“Honor me, son of my heart, by having the courage to go back to your roots and heal your past. Only in that way will you find your peace.”
She was pulling all the strings she’d carefully lain over the years. Honor, discipline, connection, respect. They were the touchstones of her life, her guiding principles, and she’d quietly instilled them in him. He would give his own lungs to see her live, but he couldn’t go back to Texas. Not with the memories of Kent and Ellen tearing him up inside. What could he say to either of them to make them understand the depth of his regret?
He shook his head. “Grandmother, I honor you, b—”
“Good, I’m glad that’s settled. I didn’t want to go home until I was certain you would follow the right path.”
“The horses—”
“Stanley Black Bear will take care of them until you’re ready to let go. When you do, he’s promised to give you a good price for the ranch.”
“I couldn’t sell this place.”
“Not today, but soon.”
He said nothing. Arguing with her was useless. She was too damn stubborn.
“I’m not leaving you.” She placed a gnarled hand against her heart, then covered his own with it. A pulse of energy passed between them. “Soon you will be my heart. I will be with you always in your heartbeat, in your son’s heartbeat, in your daughter’s heartbeat.”
She was wrong. For him there would be no son, no daughter. Once he’d shared dreams of a family with Ellen. They’d mapped out a whole future filled with horses and children…and love. But those dreams had died on the river sixteen years ago. The void stirred an eddy of sorrow in his heart.
Nina dug into the worn leather pouch she carried at her waist and brought out what looked like a piece of bone. “This is for you.”
He took the bone and saw Nina had carved and painted it into an eagle feather. On the upper right side she’d emblazoned a medicine wheel. “Protection from your demons until you can let them go.”
“Grandmother…” He gazed at the feather-shaped stone in the palm of his hand and fought the burning itch scratching the back of his eyes. The feelings wound so tight inside him wouldn’t form into thought, into words.
“Oh, look, Pajackok, the midnight star is here. Do you hear its song?”
He realized then that he didn’t need to say anything. She already knew his heart better than he did. He sat by her and held her close. With her he watched the midnight star until she shed her robe.
Then, not knowing quite where the consciousness to do so had come from, he sang her spirit home.
THREE DAYS LATER, to honor Nina and all she’d done for him, Kevin headed south and east.
His brother was alive. He had to find him. He had to humble himself and ask for forgiveness. Only then could he stop working so hard at trying to forget the brother he thought he’d killed and the woman he’d loved too much.
“HE CAN’T DO THIS!” Ellen Paxton steamed her way to the sheriff’s desk and slapped the letter down on the blotter. Black spots danced in front of her eyes, colors faded, shapes blurred. She blinked madly, trying to control the body doing its damnedest to remind her of her weakened state. “There wasn’t even a hearing. I didn’t get to speak for the horses.”
And speaking for the horses had become her obsession. She was shaking so badly that, when Chance eased her down into a chair, she couldn’t fight him.
“Now take a deep breath,” he said, “and start from the beginning.”
Hanging on to the collar of Chance’s tan uniform shirt she dragged in a breath and blew it out. Chance was the law in Gabenburg but he was also her friend. If he could help her, he would. “This guy shows up with a trailer and gives me this letter and insists on taking the horses back. They’re nowhere near ready to leave.”
Mentally and physically scarred, the half-dozen horses she’d rescued from the highway wreck were in no shape to travel anywhere. She’d used up a day’s worth of energy sending Bancroft’s errand boy on his way, but she wasn’t stupid enough to think that would end the situation. The weight of that exhaustion finally caught up with her. Her hands fell back onto her lap. “What was the judge thinking?”
“Let me take a look,” Chance said. He leaned his backside against the desk and read the letter.
A ceiling fan stirred the air-conditioned air, keeping the sheriff’s office cool in spite of the June heat blazing outside. Fluorescent light poured from an overhead fixture, drenching the room in white. The muted sounds of radio chatter crackled from a unit behind Chance’s desk. A wanted poster, along with