His Heart for the Trusting (11 page)

Say, something
Mitch.

“You're not afraid
of me?” Sara finally asked.

“Please,” Mitch
sputtered, his brow crinkling.  “I outweigh you by what, sixty-seventy pounds?”

She drew her
lips together in a wry smirk.  “Who's counting?  But size isn't the threat and
you know it.”

“What is?”

“Money.  Isn't
that what Lillian was after?”

He sobered. 
“You're nothing like Lillian.” 

“From what you
tell me, I'm just like her.  Both of us came from poor backgrounds.  She was
after you for your money.  I left my home for a man with money.  Someone who
could give me a glamorous life I thought I wanted.”

If he detested
her for her admission, he didn't show it.  He just stared at her, his blue eyes
piercing her, willing her to continue.  Not because he judged her, she
realized, but because he wanted to know why for her sake.  Maybe theirs.  That
was most frightening.

“Dave had
money.  He represented everything I didn't have on the reservation.  I'd look
at Mandy, listen to her stories, and I saw all the wonderful things she had
that I wanted.  I truly wanted it.”

“You could have
had those things and lived on the reservation.”

She shook her
head.  “Not really.  I wanted everything the rez didn't give me.  Couldn't give
me.  It wasn't that hard for me to follow Dave when he asked me to marry him.”

“Did you love
him?”

“I don't think
so.”  She laughed nervously, covering her flamed cheeks with her hands.  “What
does that say about me, huh?  I left my family and my home for a man I didn't
even love.”

“You were
young.  People do reckless things when they're young sometimes.”

“Yeah, I was
young.  A lot more than just young.  I guess I thought I loved him…at the
time.  Only after did I realize I just loved what he represented.”

“What was
that?”

“A way for me
to get off the rez and be the other part of me that was not Native American.  I
hated being a half breed.”

Mitch flinched
slightly with her choice of words.

Her spine
straightened.  “Don't.  You don't have to be embarrassed.”

Shaking his
head, he said, “I'm not.  I just don't understand why you can't look at
yourself as a whole person.  No one, in this country especially, is full blood
anything anymore.”

“I struggled
with that for a long time.  I didn't know which way to be.  I was just so sure
I had to be one or the other.  No in between.  No compromise.  I never understood
my mother's reasons for deciding to move to the reservation when she married my
father.  Neither one of my parents are full blooded Apache, and mom didn't even
grow up on the rez.  She didn't have to choose that life.  I always wished she
didn't because I wanted what she left behind.”

“But now you're
back.”

Sara felt a tug
at her lips and nodded.  “Yeah, I guess I am.  It took me a long time to figure
out that the richest part of my life couldn't be measured with dollar signs and
gifts.  It's what I held in my heart for my home and my family.”

She rose from
the couch, suddenly tired, full of emotion she didn't want to face.  When would
that ever change?  She didn't want to sit there any longer with Mitch's eyes
grazing her with hunger so strong it was consuming.  It wasn't just lust. 
There was something wonderful building between them.  Something dangerous and
frightening and exciting.  Her mother had seen it, even if Sara had refused to
acknowledge it.

Sara recalled
the way Mitch had kissed her out in the workshop.  How he'd held her so
securely in his arms without making her feel as if she'd lost control. 

She had to get
out of there.  She needed to clear her head and stop thinking of Mitch, and how
much she wanted to be in his arms again.  How much she wanted to feel his
tender lips against her skin, and how she wanted to lose herself in his amazing
eyes when he looked at her the way he was doing right now.

“Sara?” he
called out to her from the other room.  

She abruptly
stopped at the base of the stairway, but didn't turn back toward the living
room.  Coward!

“I'm not afraid
of you,” he whispered in a deep voice just audible enough for her to hear the
emotion with which he spoke.

She'd changed. 
She wasn't the same woman she'd been when she'd married Dave.  Even she could
see that.  But did Mitch see that?

“Maybe you
should be,” she whispered to herself.

# # #

Chapter Six

The Powwow was
a week from Saturday.  Saying that Sara was nervous was the understatement of
the century.  She'd rambled on for fifteen minutes to some poor soul who'd
called the wrong number and was only looking to get directions to the
reservation.  How the woman had gotten the telephone number to the ranch, Sara
couldn't guess.  But in her excitement, Sara had told the caller all about the
Powwow.

Maybe the woman
was one of the other dancers who lived off the reservation.  There were those
who came to the Powwow to compete in dance competitions and thought of the
dances they performed in terms of style instead of their spiritual meaning.

Sara was fully
aware of the meaning of what she was doing by dancing in the Jingle Dance.  The
morning after she and Mitch had talked about her reasons for leaving Texas had
been the same routine as every other morning.  But it had been different, too. 
She wasn't hiding her past inside herself anymore.  She couldn't believe just
how wonderful it felt to be relieved of that burden.

Despite what
she'd felt for so long, Mitch hadn't made her feel ashamed, or blamed her for
anything.  He just listened and took in this flawed part of her as if he'd
accepted it. 

She was going
to dance.  And although Sara knew her mother hoped she would dance to heal her
heart so she could love again, Sara knew she was dancing in order to heal her
soul so she could forgive herself for her own past mistakes.  She had changed. 
Her mother had seen it.  More importantly, Mitch had seen it.

“Will you come
to the Powwow?” she asked him one morning as the day drew closer.  It shouldn't
have been so important to her that he be there to watch her dance.  She was
doing this for herself, her own healing.  But the Jingle Dance was as much for
her as it would be for those who attended the Powwow.  And she wanted Mitch to
witness it and share it with her.

“It means that
much to you?”

Yes.  She said
the words in her head, wanting to say aloud what was really deep in her heart. 
She didn't know how to define it herself, so she let the words lay scattered
for now.  Instead she made a lame excuse.

“I can't watch
Jonathan while I dance.  I suppose my mother could, if you're too busy.”

“I can keep him
home if it's easier for you.”

Her heart
tumbled with disappointment, but she forced herself not to show it. 
“Jonathan's my responsibility.  I won't go back on that.  At least, not until
someone replaces me here.”

Sara thought
she heard him groan or mumble.  She wasn't sure which.  When he didn't offer
any more than that, she went on. 

“I think
Jonathan might like it.”

Mitch motioned
to her hands as she dried the baby dish she'd just washed.  “Jonathan, huh? 
He's just a baby.  You stick that colorful dishrag on the floor and he'd be
amused for an hour just trying to reach for it.”

Sara chuckled
softly.  “Not quite.  But babies love music and dancing.  It's so stimulating. 
He'd like the singing, and the colorful costumes will catch his eye.  I'd love
to see his reaction to that.  Wouldn't you?”

Mitch nodded,
revealing a lopsided smile.

Sara squashed
down the surge of emotion that hit her hard.  “If you have too much work--”

Rolling his
eyes, he sighed and snatched the bowl she'd been drying from her hand, leaving
her with the dishrag.  “You women are all alike, you know that?”

Put off center
by his remark, Sara took a step back, staring at him.  Maybe she'd been wrong
to tell him about her and Dave.  “How do you mean?”

He dropped the
plastic baby bowl on the counter and swung around to look at her.  His striking
blue eyes were filled with amusement.  “You can't just come right out and tell
me you'd like me to see you dance?  Me.  Well, I'd like to go to see you
dance.  Not just because you can't watch Jonathan while you dance.  In case
you're interested, I'd like to go just for you.  Is that okay?”

He stood there,
grinning like a fool and she an even bigger one for feeling the heady zing of
emotion.  He'd turned the tables on her without her knowing it. 

“Yes, I'd like
that.”  Sara’s head was spinning and she had to remember to take a breath.  “It
won't be too much trouble?”

“Good Lord,
Sara.  No.  The ranch always has something that needs doing, but nine times out
of ten, it can be worked around.  Besides, Beau's been sticking pretty close to
home these days now that Mandy is on bed rest.  I can take some time.”

She grabbed a
dishtowel she dropped by the sink and playfully tossed it at him, holding on to
her lighthearted mood.  He caught it with one hand.

“You'll have a
good time, you know,” she said as she walked out of the kitchen to check on the
baby.

Mitch watched
the gentle rock of Sara's hips as she disappeared from the kitchen, and then
glanced at the dishtowel in his hands.  It didn't much matter where he was with
Sara these days.  All she had to do was walk across the room and his sky lit up
like fireworks set ablaze.  It didn't matter if he was here or at the Powwow. 
All it would take was being with Sara for him to have a good time.

* * *

Miss Hollywood
was gone.  Mitch held on to Jonathan and moved around the crowd, trying to find
a good place to stand so he could watch Sara dance.  She’d fiddled with her
fingers and kept waiting for the other dancers to arrive and then finally said
she needed some space to reign in her nerves before the dance.

She’d wanted to
be early, so she and Jonathan had actually stayed at her mother’s house the
night before.  He'd missed her.  Having a quiet house for the first time in
months was something he took advantage of.  Or he tried to.

The sun came up
and he'd poured himself a bowl of Corn Flakes and all he could think about was
coming to the reservation.  Most of the Double T cowhands were at the Powwow,
as well as Corrine and Hank.  Now, as a group of dancers were finishing the Red
Earth Dance, he walked through the crowd in search of some familiar faces.

He found
Corrine and Hank sitting on a bench by a group of dancers and small children
gathered around a young woman.  Her voice drew him to her and he knew in an
instant it was Sara.  She was weaving a story about the sun, the stars, a girl
without parents, a sky boy, and a little hummingbird.  Mitch couldn't hear it
all as he was dazed by the sheer wonder of all the children sitting on the
grass, their mouths agape as Sara told the Apache Creation Story.

His heart
squeezed.  Sara was truly in her element here.  The storyteller teaching the
children the Apache ways.  It was her dream.  And he understood a lot about
dreams, because he had his own.

As he moved to
the back of the crowd, Sara lifted her head and when her dark eyes met his, she
smiled.  Never once did she waver from her story.  But that one smile dragged
him in.  Although he was standing in the back of the crowd, it was as if he was
sitting beside her.  Her voice rose and then fell to almost a whisper,
passionate and exciting.

Guilt stabbed
at him.  He wanted Sara to stay at the Double T.  But this was where she
belonged, doing what she loved and what she was clearly good at doing.

Jonathan
started to fuss and Mitch jiggled him up and down just a little to keep him
from letting out a howl that would surely bring Sara to his side, and put an
abrupt end to the story.

An announcement
came over the intercom that dancers would begin the Jingle Dance.  Sara stood
up and a group of children rushed to her, hugging her in the leg before their
parents peeled them off.  Then she made her way to the dancing area.

Miss Hollywood
was definitely gone, Mitch thought as Sara stood in the dance area with the
other women who would perform the Jingle Dance.  She'd tried so hard to blend
in.  Well, not blend in.  Sara was off the scale beautiful in every way he
could name, whether she was wearing that silk suit and fancy gold sandals or
this colorful red and blue jingle dress.  She was sophisticated and innocent,
and both worlds she'd lived in contributed to that.

The music
started with the beat of the drum which was the backbone of most of the Native
American dances.  Sara's movement with the other dancers was controlled.  With
the heavy beat of the drum, their feet came down on the hard earth and the
hundreds of a little metal fringes that were lined in rows along the dresses
fell against each other, sounding almost like rain hitting a tin roof.  The
dance went on.  Mitch wasn't sure if Sara was even aware of the people around
her in the crowd.  She seemed lost, somewhere on her own.

But he was with
her, where she was.  She was beautiful.  He wondered if he'd ever told her
that, just how beautiful she really was.  He lifted Jonathan up higher on his
shoulder and patted his son's back.  He would tell her tonight, Mitch decided. 
And suddenly the idea of spending the day at the Powwow seemed much too long. 
He'd waited for this day and now all he could think about was taking Sara home
so he could have her all to himself.

They stayed the
whole day, Hank reconnecting with old friends and family members, Sara
introducing both Mitch and Jonathan to the same.  The dancing went on, the
magic of the day had begun with Mitch opening his eyes and seeing just how much
of a special woman he had in Sara.