Sharon Sala - Rider on Fire & When You Call My Name - Rider on Fire / When You Call My Name

Franklin stifled a moan. There were times when the plight of her childhood took his breath away.

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly.

She frowned. “About the tattoo?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Franklin said. “When I hear you speaking of your growing-up years, it always saddens me. You should have been with family, learning the ways of The People and growing up knowing you were always safe and always loved.”

Adam was momentarily stunned to silence. That this woman, who knew nothing of her heritage, should choose such a mark for her body made her powerful. He suspected the Old Ones had always known where she was and were just waiting for the right time to show her the way home.

“Sonora.”

She hesitated, then shifted her gaze from her father to Adam. “What?”

“Why the snake?”

“You mean, as opposed to any other tattoo I might have chosen?”

He nodded.

“The reason just sounds silly,” she said.

“Try me,” he asked.

“Have you ever been in a tattoo parlor?”

He nodded.

“So…you know how they have all these photos and drawings of different tattoos? Well, I was with a couple of friends. We’d been in there for a good hour, looking at photos and daring each other to go first, but no one could decide on what they wanted. I was flipping through this book of drawings and when I got to the page that had this snake on it, I felt like I was going to pass out. The room started spinning around me and I began hearing a rattle in my head…like the kind a rattlesnake makes.”

The skin crawled on the back of Adam’s neck. The Old Ones had been with her all along and she’d never recognized the signs.

“The tattoo on your back…it’s a rattlesnake?” Adam asked.

“Yes. You can’t see the rattles unless I’m—”

“Naked,” he said, and felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

She nodded, then glanced at her father.

His face was expressionless. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but it surely had nothing to do with the tattoo. She’d had the tattoo for so long that she often forgot it was there. Slightly embarrassed, she pulled her shirt back over her head moments before Franklin laid his hand on the top of her head.

“You are blessed among women,” he said softly.

She was uncomfortable with what she considered Native American voodoo and tried to make light of it.

“Couldn’t prove it by me,” she said. “My life has been anything but blessed and pure.”

“Not in that way,” Adam said. “The snake has power not often given to a woman.”

“I don’t get it,” she said. “I wasn’t born with this. It’s not a birthmark. It’s a tattoo I picked out of a book, compliments of a man named Stumpy.”

“You didn’t pick it. It chose you,” Adam said.

“I don’t—”

“You said you heard it rattle?”

“Yes, but Stumpy was smoking weed. We were all probably suffering the effects of his secondhand smoke.”

Adam stifled a frown. “Believe what you must.”

“Yeah, okay…whatever,” she said, a little embarrassed by the seriousness of the conversation.

Franklin kissed the side of her cheek and gave her a quick hug.

“If you don’t mind being left on your own again, I think I will go work on my little bird for a while. He’s anxious to be free.”

“And I need to go check on Linda Billy’s little girl,” Adam said.

“I hope she hasn’t been ill. She’s a sweet child,” Franklin said.

“Not exactly ill,” Adam said. “She overheard her grandmothers talking about someone dying in their sleep. By the time Johnny called me, she’d been awake almost three days.”

“Poor baby,” Sonora said.

Adam eyed her curiously. “So, Sonora, what are you going to do this afternoon?”

“It’s too hot to be outside,” Sonora said. “I’m thinking about a nap under the air conditioner in my room.”

“Come with me,” he said.

“Uh…”

“It’s not far. I’ll have you back in a couple of hours.”

Sonora glanced at her father. “Dad?”

He smiled. “You’ll like them.”

She still wasn’t convinced. “So…what are you going to do there?” she asked.

Adam grinned. “Well, I won’t be killing any chickens and slinging the blood about the house or praying to the sun gods today, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Franklin snorted softly, then grinned.

She glared. “You’re making fun of me.”

Adam jammed his hands in his pockets and grinned. Payback was fine. “Yeah, I am,” he drawled.

“Fine! Laugh your head off while I go change my clothes. I smell like fish.”

“Okay, but don’t dress up,” Adam warned. “The Billy family is a fine family, but somewhat distressed when it comes to money.”

“Well, damn, and I had my heart set on wearing the Versace,” she snapped, as she strode out of the room.

Adam figured he’d aggravated the situation even more by telling her what to do. The last thing he heard her say was something about “…making me nuts.”

He frowned, then let go of regret. He had all afternoon to get her in a good mood.

“I’m going to the studio while I have the energy to work,” Franklin said. “It was good to see you. Come back soon.”

Adam grinned. “You know I will.”

Franklin turned to leave, then paused. “I wish you well,” he said softly.

Adam stilled. “Thank you. You honor me with your trust.”

Franklin nodded.

“She doesn’t need my permission to do anything, but I ask only that you don’t hurt her. She’s been hurt far too many times already.”

“I would sooner hurt myself,” Adam promised.

“Then it is done,” Franklin said, and walked away, leaving Adam on his own.

He didn’t quite know how he felt, but he knew he was more than attracted to Sonora. She did things to him—made him feel things that he’d never felt for another woman.

And there was that tattoo. It had to be more than coincidence that a lost child of the Kiowa would choose the sign of her clan purely by accident. Adam was certain that there was more at work here than either he or Franklin first believed, and he didn’t know where he fit in at all. What he did know was that he didn’t want to lose the tenuous connection that they had.

“Is this all right?” Sonora said.

Adam turned around, surprised that she had changed clothes so quickly. She was wearing a pair of clean, but well-worn jeans with a denim shirt hanging loose against her hips. It was sleeveless and nearly white from countless washings, but both the jeans and the shirt were clean and crisp. She’d brushed the tangles out of her hair and left it hanging. It swung against her neck as she walked, teasing Adam with its silky sheen.

“Where’s Dad?” she asked.

“In the studio.”

“Wait. I need to talk to him.” She dashed from the room before Adam could answer.

Franklin was already bent over the worktable when Sonora hurried inside.

“Dad… I need a favor.”

He smiled as he looked up. “After that fine fish dinner…you have but to ask.”

“This little girl that we’re going to see. How old is she?”

“Not sure… Four or five…maybe six. Why?”

“I would like to take her a gift, but I don’t have anything. What would you suggest?”

He looked up, quickly scanning the pieces of the shelves of his studio as he moved toward them.

“How about this?” he asked, and lifted a small carving from the end of a shelf, then put it in the palm of her hand.

“Oh, Dad…it’s perfect. Do you mind?”

He shook his head as he smiled. “Mind? It is my joy to be able to share my work with you.”