No Ordinary Hero. Rachel LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.
she grabbed a couple of fresh coffee cups and filled them, putting them on the table before he could refuse and thus insist it was time to leave. She was well aware that she was taking a lot of his time, but she wasn’t ready to let him go. Couldn’t, if she were to be honest about it. Sitting in this house alone wondering about that noise was apt to keep her up all night.
He hesitated but didn’t argue. She made up her mind right then that one of these days she was going to get to the root of the way he hesitated about so many things. But not now. She had just asked enough of him for one night.
“I’m sorry I can’t offer you a more comfortable place to sit.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I’m a table-and-chair kind of person. My family held every gathering around a table.”
“Mine, too.” At least a point of connection.
As soon as she returned to her seat at the table, he joined her. “So what did you mean?” she prodded gently.
“I’m Cheyenne. I know, dirty word around here.”
“Not in this house,” she informed him firmly.
Again that half smile of his. “How’d you avoid it?”
“I was always weird.”
This time a real laugh escaped him. “Weird how?”
“Well, I got into a bit of trouble when I was six. I was in religious education class and when the teacher said Judas went to hell for betraying Christ, I asked how that could be possible, since God had planned it all and somebody had to do it.”
“Wow. How much trouble did you get into?”
“Only a little, actually. But that was my first starring role as the girl who asks off-the-wall questions.” She shook her head a bit. “My dad took me to the memorial of the Battle of Little Big Horn when I was about fourteen, and all I could think was that Custer was an idiot.”
That, too, surprised a laugh out of him. “How did your dad react to that?”
“He surprised me by saying it did look that way. When I got older I learned a word for Custer’s idiocy—hubris. The man was full of it. I mean, even ignoring that we were busy taking all the land away from you folks, and hunting you down like animals, Custer was an idiot. When I stood where the cavalry stood, and looked down that hill at where all the Cheyenne—I seem to remember it was mostly Cheyenne along with some other Sioux tribes—all I could think is what idiot with two hundred and forty-five soldiers attacks five thousand people?”
“The battle began long before that day.”
“I know.” She sighed. “It’s a sad and ugly story. And all the folks in these parts who talk as if you guys are still the enemy would be feeling a whole lot different if they’d been invaded. So no, we don’t share those feelings in this house. Memories are too damned long anyway.”
“Even among my people.”
“With more reason.”
“That’s debatable, too.”
She noticed he seemed to have relaxed, really relaxed for the first time since crossing her threshold. Well, considering the ill-considered bigotry a lot of people spouted, she could understand that. “So about how you were raised?”
“Many Native American people believe that all things are sentient, even the rocks. And many of us believe the spirit world exists right alongside us. And sometimes we get glimpses of that world.”
She bit her lip. “So you believe in hauntings?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure. I’m just not ready to dismiss anything out of hand. But I’m definitely willing to help you keep looking for the source of that sound. Because however I was raised, I’d still like to find a concrete explanation.”
She guessed she could deal with that. When she thought about it, what he was saying was really no different from what her religion taught: there was a spirit world, and afterlife. She just didn’t believe the two intersected. “So you’re not trying to tell me the house is haunted.”
“I’d hardly jump to that conclusion from a single sound.”
She sipped her coffee and regarded him thoughtfully. “You must feel sometimes as if you walk in two worlds.”
“Sometimes.”
She tried to read something in his expression, but this man gave away little he didn’t choose to. Still, she could imagine that straddling two different cultures probably carried difficulties she couldn’t begin to understand. And then there was bigotry. She’d heard enough talk in these parts to know that was still alive and well among some when it came to Native Americans.
“You probably could have chosen any place in the country to practice,” she said after a few moments. “Why did you come here?”
“Because it was near enough that I could get home to see my mother. At the time, she wasn’t in the best of health.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s life, isn’t it?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” She sighed and lifted her coffee mug in both hands. “I grew up here, but I almost didn’t come back.”
“No?”
“I met Don, my husband, in college, and he got a job in Denver. I followed after I graduated.” She smiled faintly. “I’d studied architectural engineering and was lucky enough to land a job with a firm in Denver. So we married, and Colleen came along, and the world was my oyster. Our oyster. After the accident, after Colleen recovered enough to need physical therapy only a few times a week, I realized I couldn’t bear to stay there any longer. It felt as if there was a reminder around every corner. So I ran back home.”
His nod was encouraging, his expression sympathetic. “Has it turned out well?”
“I’ve been able to move on, if that’s what you mean. I’m busy, I feel good most days about most things. Unfortunately, I studied architectural engineering and these days I wished I’d stayed longer and taking mechanical engineering, too. You know, wiring and plumbing. I have to hire people to do that work.”
“Expensive?”
“Of course.” She gave a rueful shrug. “The minute I start tearing out walls and putting in bathrooms, I have to bring everything up to code. And while I approve of building codes, it would be nice if I could do that work myself.”
“I suppose going back for training would be difficult now.”
“Now, yes. Maybe later on.” She sipped more coffee and looked at him over the mug. “What made you decide to become a veterinarian?”
“Animals.” His smile was beautiful. “From the time I was little I loved animals. They didn’t always get treated very well on the rez because we were poor. Lots of strays. You know, that was an odd contrast. Spiritually we think of animals as our brothers. But in reality …” He shrugged a shoulder. “When you’re having trouble feeding a kid, it’s hard to find food for a dog. So there were a lot of strays. Mostly dogs, some cats, but cats actually do better for themselves on their own. I started collecting them, much to my mother’s chagrin. And I found a low-paying job when I was eight, watching a neighbor’s sheep, and used the money to buy dog food. I put my first splint on a dog’s leg when I was ten because nobody could afford to take a stray to a vet and the only other alternative was to shoot it.”
“Did the splint work?”
“You bet. Mainly because I was lucky and it was a simple fracture.” He chuckled quietly. “But there was no stopping me after that. I learned a lot about caring for livestock from my elders. I read books. I scoured libraries and finally got really lucky.”
“How so?”
“A vet