Mountain Moonlight (6 page)

From somewhere far off a coyote howled at the moon. The Ndee thought of Old Man Coyote as a trickster. If he believed in the Old Ones he might think he was being warned. Or challenged.

Remembering the feel of Vala's body under his hands, he smiled, anticipating the challenge to come.

Chapter 4

The next morning the sky was overcast when they saddled up. Feeling much more like herself, Vala made sure to watch just how Susie Q's saddle went on. Maybe tomorrow she'd try doing it.

After about an hour on the trail, they all heard a faint rumble of far-off thunder. Minutes later, Bram pulled off the trail, guiding them to a small flat-topped rise that rose several feet above the rest of the niche in the rock wall. Two rugged-looking crags loomed above them.

"Let's get the tent up," he said.

With Vala lending a hand, they soon had her tent ready, plus an extension fastened on and the gear stored inside. As the first rain drops fell, Bram rechecked the horses' tethers and then eased into the tent with her and Davis.

"How come you picked this place?" Davis asked.

"We're not in a hurry, so why not stay dry instead of wet?" he said. "Best to get off the trail anyway. If this turns into a gully washer, water comes pouring down the rocks like a river. Doesn't do to get swept away."

Lightning flashed and a close crack of thunder startled Vala.

"Just like Mokesh said." Davis spoke excitedly. "The thunder spirit really does live here."

Vala had never been afraid of thunderstorms. But she felt they were a lot more vulnerable in this tent than she'd ever been in a house.

"Close!" she cried as a brilliant shaft of lightning heralded a reverberating boom. Rain thrummed on the tent. Close also applied to their quarters. The extension held most of the gear, including saddles, leaving the three of them crowded into the main tent, which was really intended for sleeping. At the moment, the sleeping bags were unrolled on top of the ground cloth for them to sit on.

"You know what Mokesh would say?" Davis asked. Without waiting for an answer he went on. "Bad weather's the time to tell stories 'cause the snakes aren't out so they can't hear."

"What have the snakes got to do with it?" Vala asked.

"If the weather's good they might be hiding close by and hear," Bram said. "There are some stories the snakes don't want people to tell."

She looked at him, astonished.

Davis took the information in stride. "Yeah, you got that right, according to what Mokesh said. So who's gonna go first?"

"How about you, partner?" Bram said, pleasing Vala who could see Davis was bursting to tell one.

"It's a story I heard from Mokesh," Davis began.

"Some things about it I don't understand real well, but it's a story about how an old Ndee medicine man named Wandering Shadow found the pouch lost by the Great Spirit."

He went on to tell about Wandering Shadow getting lost in a blizzard and discovering a shining warrior lying in the snow. "He built a fire and gave this warrior all his water and all his food, but then the warrior left him and disappeared into the blizzard.
"

"Wandering Shadow decided it was his time to die--" Davis paused. "Mokesh knew when it was his time to die, do you think maybe all the Ndee do?"

"At one time, I believe they did," Bram said. "Now, though--" His words trailed off and he shrugged.

Again he'd surprised Vala with what he seemed to know about the Apache--oops, Ndee.

"Anyway," Davis went on, "instead of dying, Wandering Shadow found this shining lost pouch and knew he had to return it to Spirit Mountain. After he did that, he got one wish--a big wish, a thunder wish. On account of 'cause he was a wise old man, he wished his people wouldn't ever have to be cold or go hungry again. So do you know what he got for them?"

Vala shook her head.

Bram said, "I do, but this is your story to tell, not mine.
"

"The gift of the Great Spirit to the Ndee was the buffalo," Davis told them.

"I liked that story," Vala said.

Bram nodded. "That's what I mean about treasure. The buffalo were a greater treasure to Wandering Shadow's people than gold or jewels."

"Yeah, I guess they were," Davis agreed. "But they wouldn't be to me. I'd rather have gold any day." He looked at Vala. "Now it's your turn, Mom."

"I don't know any legends," Vala said. "And I've never been any good at making up stories."

"You could tell about when you were a little girl and lived in Arizona," Davis said. "You hardly ever talk about that."

"Sounds good to me," Bram chimed in.

Vala thought a moment. "Okay, I can come up with something about that time. Davis's story mentioned a thunder wish, mine'll be about rain."

"That leaves me lightning," Bram said.

"You can have lightning, there's only rain in mine."

She paused, wondering how to begin. If it were only Davis and her there'd be no problem, but Bram would be listening, too.  "Once upon a time," she finally began, "there was a little girl who wanted to dress up like a princess for a Halloween party her friend down the street was having.
"

"The little girl's mother didn't sew and her father thought buying a ready-made costume was a waste of money, so her mother taped together a white dress out of old left-over crepe paper stored in the attic. She trimmed it with gold fronds meant to decorate a Christmas tree. The little girl thought she was beautiful in the paper dress, especially after her mother curled her straight hair.
"

"As she walked down the block to the party house, it began to rain. Her pretty dress just sort of turned to mush and her curls disappeared, so she ran home crying.
"

"Her mother didn't have any more crepe paper, but she found a piece of black cloth. So she cut a hole in it for the little girl's head to go through, other holes for her arms and trimmed it off so it made a long dress. She braided the little girl's hair, made a pointed hat out of cardboard, colored it black with a crayon and told the little girl it had stopped raining and now she could go as a witch.
"

"The little girl didn't like that idea one bit, she was sure she looked awful and everyone would make fun of her. Then her father said, 'A princess is boring. A witch is interesting. Wouldn't you rather be interesting?'

"Well, she didn't know whether she would or not, but she went to the party as a witch. No one laughed at her and so she had a good time after all."

After a pause, Davis said, "Grandpa was right. I think witches are more interesting. For one thing, they get to turn people into frogs."

"While the poor, boring princess only gets to kiss the frog," Bram put in. "Ribbet," he croaked.

That cracked Davis up.

"The best I can come up with is a story about something funny that happened while I was at law school," Bram said.

In her surprise, Vala blurted, "You're a lawyer?"

He shrugged. "I know everyone hates lawyers but someone has to do it."

"How come you're a guide, then?" Davis asked.

"Which would you rather be?" Bram countered.

"A guide!"

"So you've answered the question. It's like witching, guiding is more interesting."

"For your story, I think I'd rather hear why you switched professions," Vala said. "You said yours would be about lightning--so how did it strike and change your mind?"

"It's not as funny as the law school incident.
"

"We don't care, do we, Davis?"

"I want the lightning story," Davis told him.

"You might say it all started off with a necktie," Bram began. "I happen to hate them. In Arizona you can usually get by with a bolo tie, but not in the court room. So I bought a expensive silk, very conservative, navy blue tie, learned how to put the correct knot in it and never unknotted it, just slipped it over my head until the next court case. Kept the thing in my blazer pocket, left the blazer hanging at the office.
"

"At the time my mother was making rag rugs from old nylon stockings and panty hose and was always scrounging for them. So I asked the secretaries in the law firm I worked for to save hose they couldn't use for my mother's rugs. Came a day in court. The day before, one of the secretaries told me she'd brought me a pair of old black panty hose. I was busy at the time and told her to just stuff them somewhere out of sight.
"

"On the court day I'm running late, grab the blazer, put it on when I'm almost to the door of the court, reach in my pocket for the tie, slide it over my head and try to tighten it as I enter the courtroom. The judge, who's just been seated, stares straight at me, his eyebrows rising higher and higher.
"

"I fumble with the tie, can't find the knot. Not until the snickering starts do I realize what I've done." He paused.
"
Know what it was?"

"I bet that's where your secretary put her black panty hose," Davis said, snickering himself. "In your pocket."

Vala found the picture of Bram in a courtroom with panty hose draped around his neck irresistibly funny. She and Davis couldn't stop laughing.

"Got cited for contempt of court," Bram added. "Blasted judge had no sense of humor. That's when I decided it was entirely possible I might have picked the wrong profession. End of story. Time for a song."

"Good idea," Vala told him. "How about 'You Are My Sunshine?'"

They started with that. Davis taught them a couple he'd learned in camp and they sang those and others, one after another until they grew hoarse. At that point Davis eased down and stretched out on his sleeping bag.

"Whatever happened to your guitar?" Vala asked Bram.

"I didn't realize you knew I had one," he said. "It's around somewhere."

"Can you still play it?" Davis asked.

"I suppose. Haven't tried lately."

"He was something in high school with that guitar," Vala said, remembering. "He knew all the right tunes and sometimes he'd play after classes out in the parking lot, standing there by his motorcycle, surrounded by a crowd."

Davis stared at him. "You had a Harley?"

"No such luck. An old Honda."

"Still..." Davis seemed lost in admiration.

"I never noticed you in any crowd," Bram said to Vala.

"I was there." She didn't add that she'd tried hard not to be obvious.

"Staying in the background seemed to be a characteristic of yours."

"I got over it." Wanting to shift attention from herself, she said, "I never in my wildest guess would have imagined you as a lawyer."

"Nobody else's either. Could be that's why I took prelaw when I got that college baseball scholarship and then went on to law school."

Vala expected Davis to chime in about now. When he didn't, she glanced at him and saw he'd fallen asleep. Following her gaze, Bram said, "Should we be quiet?"

She smiled. "Never worry about waking Davis up. Ten brass bands marching by couldn't rouse him. He's the soundest sleeper in the world."

"He's a good kid. Smart, too."

"Unfortunately his father doesn't seem to know that. Or care. The only thing Davis could do to make Neal take any notice is to become an outstanding athlete. That's not likely."

"He interested in sports at all?"

"He likes to watch baseball but gave up on playing it after one season in Little League. Davis is not well- coordinated, no matter how hard he practices. Lately he's given up completely on trying to please his father. I can't blame him, since nothing does."

Bram scowled but remained quiet, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. "Hell of thing for a kid to go through," he said finally. "Shouldn't happen."

"You know that and I know that, but try to tell Neal."

"Why'd you marry him?"

Taken by surprise, she blurted, "Because he asked me." After a moment, she realized, to her distress, that it might actually be the truth of the matter. She hadn't been in love with Neal, no matter how she'd tried to convince herself she was.

Bram shook his head.

"Okay, so it was a lousy reason," she snapped. "I'm sure he's much happier with his new wife and son."

"How about you?"

She shrugged. "I'm happier without him. So is Davis, actually. He no longer has to hear on a daily basis how he doesn't measure up to Neal's image of a son."

"Man's a fool not to be proud of a kid like Davis. Take the old Ndee he befriended. Mokesh saw something in Davis that made him believe in the boy's potential or he'd never have given Davis so much of his time, much less that map. It's not easy to impress an old medicine man."

"I thought Mr. Mokesh was probably just lonely."

"With others to talk to in that nursing home, he chose Davis. You can bet it wasn't as simple as loneliness."

"I've noticed you seem to know quite a lot about Mr. Mokesh's people. Like Davis, you don't say Apache, you say Ndee."