Rainsinger (24 page)

“Is everything okay? You sound strange.”

Winona let go of the long breath. “The girls are fine. I’m fine. But the storm trashed the orchard. And the big, old tree that Daniel thought his great-great-grandmother planted is gone. It was struck by lightning.”

“I see.” Jessie covered the mouthpiece and murmured something, presumably to Luke. “So where did he go?”

“I have no idea. He just took off.”

“Daniel? That’s so unlike him.”

Winona wouldn’t know. “He was very upset.”

Jessie sighed. “Poor Daniel. Look, we’ll be there in an hour or so. I can at least get Giselle out of your hair.”

“That’s fine, but she’s no trouble. Drive carefully.”

She hung up and turned around to find both girls standing at the door, staring at her. “Your mother is coming to get you in a little while. You should get your things together.”

“Is Daniel okay?” Joleen asked.

Winona looked away. “I’m sure he’s fine.” But as the girls clomped down to the basement, Winona stared out the front window, sure her words were a lie. Wherever he was, he was not fine. He was alone and grieving, and those two things should never go together. She closed her eyes and sent up a prayer.

“Look after him,” she whispered. “Please.”

W
inona was already halfway packed by the time Luke and Jessie arrived. She folded the red batik tablecloth and napkins and put them in the box she’d saved from the trip here, then put the napkins on top. There was little else in the kitchen, and she moved on to her bedroom, packing the box with odds and ends that wouldn’t fit into her suitcase. Carefully she laid out clothes to wear in the morning—a pair of shorts to drive in and the pretty mirrored skirt for the interview she’d set up for three in the afternoon.

She hadn’t told Joleen yet, but she wanted to be on her way as soon as possible, afraid she’d lose her will to go if Daniel suddenly came back. She had to get out of there before she regretted her decision to leave, to let go of the orchard.

No, she wouldn’t regret it. As he’d said so often, it was his by birthright.

Jessie came in, looking a little tired, and Winona took the baby Daniel. He was plump and warm and sleepy, and laid his head on her shoulder trustingly. Winona found she had a smile left in her after all, and she gave the baby a kiss. “Oh, you’re my sweetie pie now,” she said softly.

“He’s worn out,” Jessie said, sinking onto the couch. “Just like his mother. I’m getting too old for these long trips.”

“I made some coffee,” Winona said.

“Bless you,” Jessie sighed.

Giselle burst into the room, her face ablaze, and threw herself into her mother’s arms, kissing her cheek and hugging her tight.

Luke said, “None for me, huh?”

Giselle laughed happily and repeated the hugs and kisses for her father. “Are we going right now? Me and Joleen are in the middle of a movie.”

“Go right ahead,” Jessie said.

Winona caught the frown Luke shot toward his wife, and she was touched when Luke knelt next to Jessie and rubbed her tummy. “You can get a nap. I'll take care of Danny.”

Jessie shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Some coffee will make a world of difference.”

“You’re welcome to stay,” Winona said. “There’s plenty of room.”

There was a flicker of yearning on Jessie’s face, and Winona smiled. “Believe me, I understand how tiring it is to travel like that. Can’t imagine how it is pregnant, as well. Stay. I insist.”

“I won’t argue,” Jessie said.

Giselle said, “Yippee!” and ran down to impart the news to Joleen.

Over coffee and rolls Winona had warmed in the oven, Luke asked, “So where did Daniel go?”

“I don’t know.” Winona’s throat was tight. She stared out the dark window toward the orchard, invisible in the darkness. “He went down and looked at the tree, and left without a word.”

Luke eyed his coffee, then Winona. “I’m a little worried about him, to tell you the truth. That’s not his style.”

Winona recalled Daniel’s face as it had been when he had seen the destroyed tree, that expression of hopelessness in his eyes. Her own eyes filled with tears. Appalled, she glanced away quickly but the croaky sound of her words gave her away nonetheless. “I’m worried, too. He shouldn’t be out there, alone, so upset.”

Jessie put her hand over Winona’s, and it was impossible to hide her feelings. Winona set her jaw and blinked quickly, but tears still fell. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s been a very long day.”

Luke had a curious, secretive smile on his face. He stood up. “I’m going outside to smoke.” He grinned. “I guess we’re past fire danger right now, huh?”

Winona smiled ruefully. “Not a problem tonight.” When he left, Jessie stood up and put her arms around Winona. “Luke will find him,” she said. “He’ll know where to look.”

“I shouldn’t even care,” Winona murmured, feeling tears fall again over her face, and this time it didn’t matter. “He made me so mad and he’s going to break my heart, and it doesn’t seem to matter because I’m in love with him anyway.”

Jessie laughed softly, and held her close, and stroked her hair. “Oh, I’m so glad,” she said. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

It was such a relief to talk to someone, to another woman, such a relief to unburden her heart, that Winona found herself doing just that, spilling an abbreviated story of her time at the ranch, sharing her perplexity at Daniel’s behavior. It was such a relief to say, finally, “I think he loves me, Jessie. But he’s so afraid and I don’t know how to make that okay for him. He kept talking about Luke’s father and mother, and how you can’t count on things.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” Jessie said. “I was just like him when I met up with Luke again. I was so afraid to be happy again. I’d made this comfortable, safe world, and I didn’t want him coming in there, making it topsy-turvy all over. I didn’t want to love anybody that much again, because it hurts so much to lose him.”

“The way Daniel lost you?”

Jessie hesitated. “Sort of. It hurt him more to lose Giselle. He was practically her father. And we were never more than friends. He’s just a very cautious man. He wants to be in control of everything, and it makes him crazy when he can’t be. Love isn’t very controllable.”

Winona nodded. “Well, I’m going to take a job in Albuquerque, at a greenhouse there. Let him have the orchard. If he misses us, I guess he can come find us.”

“You have to do what you think is best,” she said. But Winona heard the reserve in her voice. She thought of what Joleen had said in the orchard.
You have to fight for him.
But did she have that much courage? To face the possible rejection he might give?

She thought of him telling her, just before they made love, that he wasn’t offering a marriage vow, and cringed inside.

But she also thought of him so tenderly, carefully making love, touching her as if she were some incredibly sacred being. She thought of the way he’d kept her from leaving his bed, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

Luke came in. “Everything all right in here?”

“Fine.”

“I guess I’ll go fetch our wandering child, then.” He inclined his head. “You want to go, Winona?”

Her stomach flipped and she stared at him blankly, a sense of destiny growing within her. Whatever she decided in the next minute would shape the rest of her life. If she didn’t go, could she stand the voice of accusation that would haunt her when she was ninety?
You didn’t even try.

“Yes,” she said, standing up. “I’d like that.” Then she thought of Joleen. “My sister—” She frowned. “She may have nightmares tonight.” Quickly she outlined the situation, the accident and rain and Joleen’s terror in the storm this afternoon. “She seems okay, but—”

Jessie’s smile was deep and knowing. “I lost my mother when I was twelve,” she said.

Of course she had—everything about all of this had seemed fated. “I’ll leave her in good hands, then.”

* * *

They drove a long time through the night, and Winona, exhausted, dozed for much of it. Luke didn’t seem inclined to fill every minute with idle chatter, though when she stirred, he amused her with little stories, and when she asked, even shared some of the story of his and Jessie’s reunion. It was touching, and she liked the way Daniel had been part of it.

Dawn was just breaking when Luke turned off the main road and bumped over a rutted, muddy sidetrack that led to nothing Winona could see. She’d never been to the reservation before, and its vast unpeopled expanse amazed her. It was beautiful under the smoky light.

From the gloom emerged the shape of a hogan and a pickup truck. Her heart squeezed. Silhouetted against the sky was a dark, lonely figure, cloaked in a blanket. He didn’t turn at the sound of the truck. Luke turned off the ignition and methodically rolled a cigarette. “It would be best if you stayed here for a while.”

Winona nodded.

* * *

Daniel heard the engine and recognized the sound of Luke’s truck. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe it was just that he knew Luke was the only one who would know where to look for him. Back in the place where he began.

Once, Luke had lived just a few miles distant, over a bluff that was threaded with the paths of their feet. Once, long ago, Luke had run to the hills over which the sun would soon rise, and the pair of them had hidden for three days. Daniel had wished fervently then that Luke would never go. He was the only stable thing in his life at that time.

But boys had no choice, and Luke went with his parents to a place that had seemed as far away as the moon to the pair of them. Daniel stayed behind, alone.

All night, he had sat here on the cold ground, thinking, praying. His mind wandered through the years and through the choices he’d made, through the past and into the future. He felt empty of everything. No hate, no pain, no joy, no desire. He was simply empty.

He felt betrayed by the tree he’d sought for so long, by the ancestors he’d thought he had honored by finding El Durazno. There was nothing to believe in, and no room for any more aching.

Luke sat down next to him, calmly smoking.

Daniel didn’t even look at him. He had no words, either.

But trust Luke to have some. “I saw the tree.”

He nodded.

“Wonder why that tree.”

Daniel frowned and glanced up. “It’s the tallest.” He frowned again. “Was.”

“Yes.” Luke quietly puffed on the cigarette; smoke billowed out into the crisp air, floating. “All that rain for the others, all that life-giving water for the new ones, and a death for the old one.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Don’t play Columbo, Luke. Just say it.”

Luke grinned, his expression as teasing as always. “I did. Rain for the new, death to the old.” He turned his lips down and lifted one shoulder. “Seems plain enough to me.”

“That isn’t what I see. I see the end of the old way, just like always.”

“What old way, kemosabe? You don’t live the old way. You are a modern man, and that’s a good thing. What would have happened to those traditionals if they hadn’t had you fighting these modern wars for them? It’s the right life for some people, but it hasn’t been your life for a long time.”

Daniel nodded heavily. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He didn’t know what he would do, where he would go now. He would let Winona have her orchard—for at least that much was clear. The grandmothers had given him a clear sign. It had only been through the night that he had remembered, had realized that his grandmother would have wished for him a woman, for such things lay in a woman’s realm. The land should be hers. He wished he’d remembered before.

The thought of Winona haunted him, as it had all night. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t rid himself of the specter of her, a kaleidoscopic vision of her over the months of his knowing her. Laughing as she stole a ball on the courts, sweating as she carted buckets of water to pour on the roots of the peach trees, moaning in pleasure as he made love to her.

But most of all, he thought of her touching his face, reverently, as if he were beautiful and precious and wondrous. He thought that vision would never go away.

“It doesn’t matter, Luke,” he said. “It’s over. She can have the trees.”

“I think she’s planning to give them to you.”

Daniel frowned. “No.”

“She loves you, Daniel.”

His jaw tightened and his chest pounded with renewed emotion. God, he didn’t want to feel these things. “She’s a good woman,” he said, and had no idea what he meant.

“Do you love her?”

Daniel raised his head, opened his mouth, closed it again. He nodded and buried his face in his hands. “I tried not to.”

Luke’s chuckle was warm and rich, full of all the confidence Daniel had never owned. He envied Luke that certainty with all he was.

“It’s a good thing to love, Daniel.” Luke stood up. “And since you once did me the great honor of sending me my woman, I brought you yours this morning.”

“What?”

“She came with me, Daniel. Winona is here.”

Stunned, Daniel struggled to his feet. His legs and back were stiff with sitting in the cold all night, and he staggered a little, clasping the old, long blanket around him as he turned.

Winona climbed out of the truck at some signal from Luke, and she looked wary and weary. And there were tears on her face. He could see them from here.

There was no thought in him, nothing. He found himself moving over the ground, hobbled and cold and able to see only one thing. Her beautiful, clear-crystal eyes, shining with tears as the sun rose. As he came closer, the rising sun broke the horizon and splashed over Winona through a gap in a distant canyon, falling only upon her in the long, single finger of light.

He stopped, suddenly terrified. What if something happened to her? What if she died? What if she could not bear life with him after all, and took Joleen and herself away to a city. What if—

She bit her lip, and in that small, betraying gesture, he saw everything in a blaze of clarity. He moved forward and reached for her, and flung his blanket around her, and kissed her. And kissed her again. And again.