Wild Desire

“Where is our younger son?” Sage asked dryly.

“He has gone to help bring our sheep in,” Leonida said, entering the hogan with Sage and Runner. “He says that he wants to feel useful now, as well as in the future.”

“He is finding it hard to break with the traditions of our past,” Sage said, settling down on a chair before the fireplace. He accepted a cup of coffee from Leonida with a nod of thanks.

“In part that is good,” Sage continued between sips of coffee. “Edo-tano, no. It is not good ever to forget the ways of our past. But one must always prepare one’s self for the future, and I fear that herding sheep is not for our son. He must learn how to fight logic with logic when he comes face-to-face with the white people. Schooling is the only way to survive. The only way.”

“I feel as though I am ready to face any difficulty that may be laid in my path,” Runner said, sitting down beside his father.

“Even Adam?” Sage said, frowning over at Runner. “You are putting yourself in such a position tonight, my son, by promising to have council with Adam and Damon.”

“It will not be a normal council, by any means,” Runner said, laughing softly. “But, yes. I believe that I am ready for anything that Adam says or does.”

“And the white woman as well?” Sage said, reaching to add another log to the fire.

“We shall see about her when the time comes,” Runner said. He took a plate of food as Leonida handed it to him.

“Surely I was mistaken, but did I hear you speak a name of our past?” Leonida said. She reached to the table for Sage’s plate of food, then handed it to him. “Adam. Did you say something about an Adam?”

She had already eaten. She slipped her apron off and settled down on a chair opposite Sage and Runner. She waited for a reply, raising an eyebrow when she realized that neither son nor husband was offering it to her.

“Sage? Runner?” she persisted. “What did you say about Adam? Could it be our little Adam? Our Sally’s Adam?”

Runner lay his plate aside. He reached for his mother’s hands and squeezed them affectionately. “Mother, it is our Adam,” he said softly.

Leonida’s face glowed with joy. “Truly?” she gasped. “You . . . have . . . seen him? Where, Runner? Where?”

Runner cast Sage a troubled glance, then knelt by his mother. “Mother, Adam has arrived on a train,” he explained softly. “Do you know the tracks that have been laid farther than Gallup? Adam came in a train on those tracks.”

Leonida’s eyes became shadowed with worry. “He came to see us? That is why he was on the train?”

“Not entirely,” Runner said stiffly. “I believe he has come because of some connection with the railroad, and because of his sister.”

“What sister?” Leonida ask

ed, her eyes widening.

“Her name is Stephanie,” Runner explained. “She is a photographer. She has come to Arizona to practice her skills.”

“Truly?” Leonida said. “She is truly skilled in photography?”

“Yes, and it is intriguing, Mother,” Runner said solemnly. “But it is also something the Navaho would not want to be involved with. They would be exploited. That cannot be allowed to happen.”

Leonida did not reply. She understood about the Navaho being exploited. But she could not help but want to know this woman who knew the skills of taking pictures. She admired any woman who knew the ways of a man’s world.

Yet, as far as the Navaho were concerned, she did see a danger in this.

Pure Blossom entered the hogan, interrupting the silence.

“See my newest finished blanket,” Pure Blossom said. Spread across her outstretched arms was a blanket of many designs and colors.

Leonida went and took the blanket and shook it out to its full length, sighing as she was taken in by its sheer loveliness. “I do not know how, but your skills improve with each of your blankets,” she said.

Then her attention was drawn from the blanket. She watched how Pure Blossom kneaded her fingers, her eyes revealing the pain she was in.

Leonida lay the blanket aside and drew her frail daughter into her arms. “Now, now,” she murmured. “Do your fingers hurt so terribly today, Pure Blossom? Perhaps you should not weave for a few days now that your latest project is finished. Why not just rest beside the fire? I have recently brought you some books from the trading post. You could read. That could take your mind off the pain.”

“Using my fingers keeps them limber,” Pure Blossom said. She eased from her mother’s arms and looked at Runner. “Big brother, you seem so serious. What were you discussing?”