Rachel Lee - No Ordinary Hero

“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 who came to the rez sometimes to look after cattle and sheep picked up on my interest and took me on as an assistant.”

“That’s great!” But she saw his face shadow and realized the unhappiness inherent in that story, as well as the pleasure of having an opportunity. A complex man, one who kept a lot close to the vest.

“Yes, it was. He gave me a load of books to read, he taught me, and he made sure I studied hard enough and well enough to get into college. A good man.”

“He sounds like it.”

“I was lucky to have a mentor, a great mentor. People like that can make more of a difference than they may ever realize. Unfortunately, he died before I graduated from veterinary school, but at least he knew I made it.”

“I’m sure he was proud.”

“Despite everything.”

She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but she realized his face had closed as suddenly as someone slamming a door. She bit back the words and sat there, feeling at sea, wondering if there was any direction with this man that didn’t lead to a closed door, or a hesitation, or the sense there was a lot he would never say.

Of course, that just made her even more curious, but she knew how to bide her time. She’d learned patience the hard way, with a daughter whose slow recovery demanded it.

A rumble of thunder drew her attention and she glanced toward the kitchen window, surprised to see the light had begun to turn a gray-green.

“That’ll upset the dogs in the kennel,” Mike remarked.

“Really?”

“About thirty percent of dogs are scared of storms. In a kennel, that thirty percent set off the rest.”

“Is it the noise?”

“There’s some debate about that. Some dogs seem to start responding way too early, as if they sense a change in the air pressure.”