A Rainbow in Paradise (20 page)

"I didn't, either." For a moment he looked
away and there were tears in his eyes when he looked back. "I love
you, Eden. I didn't mean for it to happen, but it did. I love you,
and it's breaking my heart to let you go."

"Oh, Logan, do we have to do this? Isn't
there a way—"

This time he touched his finger to her lips
to stop the words. "Please, love. Please don't say anymore. If I
could think of a way of making this right, you know I would. I
can't, and I'm sorry. It isn't fair. Loving you isn't fair." He
drew away from her. "It isn't fair," he said again, and then he
turned and sprinted for his truck.

Not caring if the whole neighborhood heard
her, Eden shouted after him, "Logan! Logan Redhorse, I love you,
too!"

As he drove into the deepening night, she
slumped onto her porch step, quietly sobbing.

* * * * *

The yellow dawn was just catching up with
Chris McAllister as he turned his pickup truck toward Many Farms,
praying that he'd find a way to help his suffering friend. It had
been nearly a month since Logan had driven away from the best thing
that had ever happened to him, and Chris had watched him carefully
since then, afraid for Logan. He'd never seen his friend so
despondent.

Eden was no better. For more than a week now,
Sarah had been calling her friend every day, and every day she
ended up hanging up the phone and turning to Chris, begging him to
find a way to help. "We've got to do something," she had said just
this morning after a near-sleepless night of worry. "I've never
seen Eden like this. She wasn't even this bad when her mother
died."

"I don't know what I can do, but I'll try,"
he had promised the wife he adored. "I love them both too, you
know."

"I know," Sarah had said, and had held him as
if she never wanted to let go. Since he was the kind of person he
was, Chris turned his eyes heavenward, acknowledging the silver
lining to this cloud. Because of the misery of their friends, he
and Sarah had been reminded once again of how blessed they were to
have each other.

He pulled into the dooryard of the goat
project and spoke to the boy who came out. "
Yah-ta-hey
."

"
Yah-tah-hey,"
the boy answered,
raising his chin.

"I'm looking for Logan Redhorse."

"He ain't here."

"Know where he is?"

The boy gave him a long, assessing look.
"Who's askin'?"

"I'm Chris McAllister. Logan and I are
buddies."

"Yeah, I know. He's told me about you. I'm
Philbert." The boy stuck out his hand, and Chris could tell that
whatever Logan had said about him had worked. He'd plainly passed
muster with Phil. “Logan took a walk out in them hills early this
morning. He's been gone quite awhile now." Though Phil didn't say
it, Chris could tell he was worried, too.

"Think I'll hike out and see if I can find
him."

The boy nodded. "Shouldn't be too tough," he
said. "He's wearin' them big hikin' boots with the waffle
soles."

"Got it." Chris tipped his hat to the boy. In
the sandy soil of the foothills near the mouth of Canyon de Chelly,
Logan's boots would leave a fairly distinctive track. Chris located
and then followed that track, not knowing what he'd say when he
found his buddy, but praying that he'd find the words to turn all
this sorrow into joy.

* * * * *

Logan sat in the warmth of the yellow
morning, his back against sun-warmed sandstone, his eyes closed
against the glare of the autumn light, his mind awhirl with all the
questions he dared not ask aloud. He had done the right thing,
hadn't he? He hardly braved contemplating the possibility that he
might have been wrong. This much pain surely had to have a purpose.
But if Eden was so wrong for him, why did she seem so right? And
why had he been led to her, and so completely drawn to her, if only
to send her away? Was he being asked to test his resolve? If that
had been the cosmic purpose behind these past few weeks, he hardly
wanted to know about it. It was all too big, too painful, too
unfair.

He didn't notice the sounds of another
climber until a stone rolled on the path just in front of him and
he jerked into alertness, snapping his eyes open. "Who's—? Oh,
Chris.
Yah-ta-hey,
buddy. Whatcha doin' way out here?"

"Following you, Kemo-sabe. Thought I'd come
check up on an old buddy of mine whom I still love like a brother
even though he’s behaving like an idiot. I've heard he's had some
hard times lately." Chris brushed off a clean spot on the sandstone
and dropped into a squatting position such as Navajo men often
took.

"Yeah. Take a number," Logan teased, his eyes
not nearly so angry as his words. "Everybody wants to check up on
me lately."

"Hey, can you blame us? Ask yourself when's
the last time you looked this bad."

Logan chuckled mirthlessly. "Yeah, I do look
a bit like something that's been beaten and left for dead."

Chris grinned. "Not quite that good,
actually." He paused while Logan snorted, then lowered his voice.
"You know, she's not doing any better than you are."

Logan groaned and dropped his head in his
hands. "Please, Chris. Don't tell me. I've spent so many sleepless
nights worrying about her. I can't forgive myself for what I've
done to hurt her, yet I don't know what I could have done
differently. I tried staying away from her, but you see how well
that worked..." He let the thought trail away.

Chris laid his hand gently on Logan's
shoulder. "Maybe you couldn't stay away from her because you're not
supposed to. Maybe she's the one, Logan."

"Don't you think I want that?" Logan jerked
up, throwing Chris's hand off him and jolting into a half-standing
position that looked poised for a brawl. "Don't you think I'd have
given anything if I thought she could be?"

Chris kept his voice calm. "I don't think you
ever seriously considered the possibility."

"How could I?" Logan looked half-mad with
pain and guilt. "Chris, you know the promise I made to my
generations. You're one of the few I ever told about it. I can't go
back on that. I can't! I wouldn't be who I am if I violated that
promise."

"And what exactly was that promise, Logan?
Say it again. Say it aloud so we can both hear it."

Logan let his eyes drop shut with a heavy
sigh. He had repeated these words so many times, both to himself
and others. He had no doubt he could say them in his sleep. He
probably had, more times than he could count. “I promised them they
wouldn't be without heritage as I was. I swore they would inherit
an honorable heritage of their own from a mother who is a child of
the desert, and a daughter of Dinehtah."

Chris waited a few pregnant beats before
murmuring, "And who's to say Eden is not that woman?"

"Oh, come on, Chris! You know she's not.
She's
belagaana
, not of the People."

"I didn't hear anything about her having to
be Navajo."

"But you know what I meant."

"I know what you said."

"You're trying to confuse me." Logan's eyes
looked confused, Chris thought. They looked downright bewildered.
"You're just trying to make me think that what I want is what I
really need."

"And why not?" Chris asked, ever so sensibly.
"Can you find a better mother for your children than someone you
love as much as you love Eden?"

"But my promise—"

"What of your promise? You promised the
mother of your children would give them an honorable heritage.
Granted, Eden's dad isn't much to brag about, but she's an
honorable woman from good stock—"

"Just not—"

"Shh. It's my turn. You can give your
children a fine, strong heritage with Eden as their mother. You
told them you'd marry a desert child. Tell me Eden's not that. You
know she is. She was born here on the high desert just as you were,
and she loves it just as much as you do."

Logan nodded, remembering the snake, their
day at White House. He had known then that Eden was a child of
Dinehtah. "But that's cheating," he said finally. "It's like
changing the rules to fit the circumstances."

"Why not?" Chris asked. "You're the one who
made the rules." He paused while he drew squiggly lines in the sand
with a twig. "You know, Logan. You remind me of a king in one of
those silly fairy tales who won't do the right thing for everyone
because it would break the law. All along he keeps forgetting that
he's the king and he made the law. He can change it if he pleases,
any time he pleases."

"You're just trying to confuse me," Logan
said again, but with less passion in it.

"I'm trying to make you see sense. You and
Eden are perfect for each other. You have been from the beginning,
and in your heart of hearts you've known it. You're afraid to make
that commitment to her because you can't help remembering how hurt
you were by having a
belagaana
mother who ran out on you.
Along the way you've conveniently failed to notice that Eden isn't
anything like your mother, that she is loyal to a fault and would
never run out on a husband or a child, that she loves this desert
as much as you do, that she even loves your traditions. She is the
mother you promised your children, Logan, but you're going to lose
her if you don't get your head out of the sand."

Chris stopped, afraid he may have gone too
far. Logan sat like a wounded thing, curled in on himself, hurting.
It took some time before he lifted his head and looked at Chris
with pained eyes. "How can I be sure?"

Chris softened as he touched Logan's
shoulder. "How can anyone ever be sure?" he asked. "Life is full of
risks. But you know what your heart is telling you. There are
people you trust, too, people besides me. Go to them. Get their
advice. Then you've got to go with what you think is right."

Logan stood, calmer than he'd been in some
time. He clasped Chris on the shoulder. "Thanks, buddy. You are a
good friend, better perhaps than I deserve."

"You deserve the best," Chris answered.
"That's why I want to see you with Eden."

For the first time in nearly a month, Logan
smiled. "Maybe I need to think about that," he answered.

Chapter Ten

Logan pulled his pickup
truck into the dooryard of his grandmother's hogan
.
It
looks different,
he thought.
But of course, there was
a
kinaalda
going on last time I came here
.
That
would account for the changes.
He failed to notice that the
last time he had come here, he had been with Eden. Eden's presence
changed everything.

You know what you're doing, don't you,
Redhorse
? his little voice niggled as he waited for his
grandmother to acknowledge him.

"Yeah," he answered aloud. "I'm doing just
what Chris suggested. I'm going to those I trust for advice."

You're going to your grandmother first
because you already know what she'll say. She will be grateful you
got rid of that belagaana woman. You won't even have to ask. You're
not giving this a fair chance.

"Since when is anything fair?" he grumbled
aloud, afraid to recognize the truth of what his little voice was
sharing. Ella Redhorse came to her door and motioned him inside.
Minutes later, he sat at his grandmother's table, sipping strong
coffee from a tin cup and listening as the old woman complained of
pain in her hip and how the cooler weather affected her joints.

He wondered how he would bring up the subject
of Eden, and then realized he wouldn't have to. "Where is your
pretty
belagaana
friend?" his grandmother asked. "Didn't you
feel like bringing her with you today?"

He took a long, slow sip of the rich coffee.
"She has gone home to Phoenix," he answered.

Ella made a sound deep in her throat that
might have been agreement, or a scoff. "She is a good woman, I
think."

Logan dropped his coffee cup, scalding
himself with the hot liquid. He grabbed a rag from the sideboard
and began wiping up the mess, careless of the small burns on his
hands. "I thought you didn't like her," he said after a moment,
trying to regain some degree of composure. "I thought you called
her 'one who laughs at us behind her hand.' "

"You're right, I did," Ella answered. "When I
met her, I thought she was like others I had met. I thought she
would be one to tell the sheep how to eat grass." Ella used the
phrase Navajos often used for busybodies who stuck their noses into
everyone's affairs. "Then I saw her at Celia's
kinaalda
. I
think now that maybe I was wrong."

"You? Wrong?" It was a good thing Logan
hadn't poured more coffee yet, because he surely would have spilled
it again. In all the years he had lived with Ella Redhorse, he
could never remember her admitting to a wrong, even when he'd
angrily rubbed her nose in it.

"Yes." Ella nodded her head soberly, as if
this choice required deep reflection. "I think now I was wrong
about your Eden friend. She is not of the People, but she is a good
woman, and you are a better man when you are with her, my son."

"I—" Logan stopped in mid-sentence, sitting
with his mouth open. Of all the things he had imagined his
grandmother saying, this was not one of them. Was it possible she
was right? Dared he even hope?

"Why did she go to Phoenix?" his grandmother
asked after a time.

''She has work there, a home. She owns a
business."

"Did she want to go? Or did you send her
away?" Again Logan found himself without words. He had always
thought of his grandmother as perceptive, but this! "I guess I sent
her," he finally answered, feeling guiltier than ever.

"You were afraid to see she might be right
for you."

He stammered, then, unable to find suitable
words, he answered, "Grandmother, when did you become so wise?"