| |
Following Aunt Jo’s directions, Shandra directed Ryan to a small house on the edge of Nespelem. The yard was tidy with a peony bush on each side of the door and iris and bleeding-hearts blooming in the flower bed the width of the house. The colors gave the gray house a cheerier appearance.
“Do you want me to come in?” Ryan asked.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. We’re going to talk mostly about grandmother. Mrs. Rider and my grandmother were best friends from childhood.” She smiled. Finally, she would get to visit with someone who knew her grandmother in a capacity other than family.
Ryan glanced at his phone. “I’ll just stay out here and make some phone calls. When you’re finished, we’ll go see Wendy.”
“Okay.” She opened the door.
Ryan caught her hand. “Forget about the murder and enjoy your time with your grandmother’s friend.”
She peered into his eyes. He knew her yearning to learn more about her grandmother. “I’ll try.”
He released her hand and she slid out of the truck. “Do you want me to call you when I’m done?”
“I’ll be right here.” He pulled his work pack out of the back seat. “I’ll be looking people up on my computer.”
“You aren’t getting paid to solve this murder,” she said.
“It’s not about the money. It’s about finding the truth.”
She blew him a kiss. “That’s what I love about you.” Shandra spun around and walked up the narrow dirt path to the front door.
The door opened before she could knock.
A woman of average height, a little overweight, and a wizened face smiled at her. “Shandra! So good to see you.” She opened the door farther and spotted the pickup. “Your man can come in, too.”
“He’s catching up on work. But he’d love to meet you when we finish talking.” Shandra stepped over the threshold, inhaling sage and fresh baked cookies. The living room held two chairs and a small couch. A flat screen tv hung on the wall.
“Logan gave me that for Christmas last year. Such a good boy. He said my living room was too crowded with the old tv that took up that whole corner.” She pointed to a corner that sported a winding staircase plant stand. “Your Aunt Jo gave me the plant stand. So thoughtful.”
She led Shandra through the living room and into the kitchen. It was painted a cheery yellow with Indian sun drawings on the towels and cabinets.
“I made tea and cookies.” Mrs. Rider motioned for Shandra to sit at the table facing the sliding glass door that led out to a small patio. The backyard had a small patch of grass, a small garden, and a flower bed that was blooming.
“It appears you have a way with plants,” Shandra said as the woman placed a cup of tea in front of her.
“I’ve always loved the feel of dirt in my hands and growing things. I’m not sure what my ancestors would think of that.” She laughed. “We were a semi-nomadic tribe, moving from place to place to harvest the foods as they were ready. We didn’t stay in one place and grow our food. We collected what the creator had provided for us.” Mrs. Rider placed a plate of cookies on the table and sat.
“You have the same look as your grandmother at your age. If I had come upon you on a street, I would have known who you were.” Mrs. Rider reached across the table with an outstretched hand.
Shandra grasped her long fingers and thin hand. “I’ve had others I’ve met on the reservation mistake me for grandmother.” The connection of their hands sent a calm over Shandra. She no longer felt the urgent need to think about Nelly. She wanted to know more about the past and her grandmother.
“Your grandmother would be proud of the woman you’ve become.” Mrs. Rider pulled her hand back and picked up a cookie. “She always told me you would be the one to carry on her work.”
Shandra sat back. “What did she mean by that? Grandmother was a healer and an elder of the Seven Drums. I am neither.” She thought a minute. “Nor do I plan to be either.”
The older woman smiled. Her eyes lit with a knowing gleam. “She meant the dreams. Finding the truth through your dreams.”
Shandra shook her head. “That’s only because grandmother shows me.”
“If you didn’t believe, you wouldn’t have the dreams.” Mrs. Rider picked up her tea cup and sipped.
“Tell me about Grandmother.” Shandra didn’t want to ponder what the woman had said about her carrying on a family tradition. She wanted to learn about the woman she’d been scared to come see.
“Minnie was a beauty. She could have married any man on the reservation. Any man who saw her asked her. But she had eyes for your grandfather from the time she was a small girl. We saw him at a powwow. She elbowed me as we were waiting for the procession to start. ‘Look at that boy,’ she said. ‘I’m going to marry him.’ I laughed and asked her why she was thinking about marrying at our young age. By the end of the powwow, they had exchanged names and addresses.” Mrs. Rider shook her head. “Those two wrote to each other once a week and met at all the ceremonies, powwows, and events they could. When Minnie was old enough to marry and the other men came calling, she was polite but to the point. She wasn’t marrying until she’d learned all she could about healing. Your grandfather worked with his father at the ranch until Minnie was ready to marry. Afterwards they moved to the ranch, and I never saw a happier couple.” Her eyes grew sad. “It tore your grandmother up when she couldn’t cure your grandfather. Then she lost your father.” The woman mumbled words Shandra didn’t understand.
“And she lost me.” Shandra’s heart ached for the woman she’d only recently come to hold in her heart.
Mrs. Rider shook her head. “Minnie told me over and over again, you would come back.” She smiled. “As always, Minnie was right.”
“I only remember parts of the summer I spent with her. It was my anger at my mom and stepfather that brought me here. It was one of the best times in my life, once I got over my anger and realized I was loved and wanted.” She sighed. “But it took Ella’s death to make me realize I’d been staying away for fear everyone would hate me for not coming back sooner.”
“Minnie told your family and me that you would come when the time was right.” She patted Shandra’s hand. “And here you are. Getting married in the traditional way and helping others on the reservation.”
That reminded Shandra of Nelly. “I’m too late to help one person.”
“Don’t worry over her. She had set her future years ago when she took up with Duke Waters. She was old enough and wise enough to know what that man did.”
“But when the heart is involved and you are young, you don’t always think clearly.” She thought of her first infatuation. Her college professor who’d pulled her into his web of cruel, sadistic love. Or what she’d thought at the time was love and learned afterwards wasn’t. She’d been strong enough to get away. That was why she’d felt a kinship with Nelly. Shandra had believed the young woman was ready to get away from her oppressor. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
Mrs. Rider nodded. “That is true. The heart can make the mind think they are right when they are doing wrong. But in Nelly’s case, I believe it was more her proving her power over others.”
This caught her attention. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nelly’s mother walked out on her and her father when Nelly was less than a year old. That’s why she was living with Birdie. Then her father used drugs and overdosed, which is why she never touched the stuff.”
“Yet she worked for Duke, bringing him customers. Why would she do that, after what happened to her father?” Shandra was beginning to think she hadn’t known the young woman as well as she’d thought.
“Ahhh, but she fell for Duke. The older man. Old enough to be a father figure. And he played her emotions, used her as he needed by keeping her thinking he loved her.”
Shandra could see the man she’d met this morning doing just that. He’d had a cold heart. She’d witnessed it in his eyes. Why hadn’t Nelly seen through that? “Do you believe Duke is the father of her baby?”
The old woman shook her head. “I’m not sure. Your grandmother had an idea but she didn’t tell me. I do know that Nelly was sleeping with more than Duke back then. She was the talk at many of the gatherings because she didn’t care if a man had a wife or girlfriend. She did whatever it took to get a man or woman buying from Duke. It was as if she thought by bringing him business, he’d love her more. The people who were clean and wanted to keep their significant others and children clean would avoid Nelly.” She shook her head. “It’s sad. Because in the end, all Nelly wanted was to be accepted. She just didn’t know how to do that.”
Shandra thought about the conversations she’d had with the young woman on previous visits. She had seemed open to having Shandra as a friend. Someone who didn’t know her past or judge her.
“Do you have any idea of how I could find out who she slept with five years ago?” Shandra picked up her tea cup.
“Why are you so interested?”
“Aunt Jo and Uncle Martin have taken in Fawn, Nelly’s daughter. I’d like to know who the father is and make sure he won’t come along after Jo has become attached and want to take the child away.” She wasn’t going to add that someone had been paying Birdie money once a month since the child’s birth.
“Your aunt has a heart of gold. One day it will do her in. I hope it isn’t over this child.” Mrs. Rider waved a hand. “I have a letter for you. Your grandmother left it with me to give to you when she passed. Wait here while I get it.”
Shandra stared at the woman’s back as she left the room. What were you thinking Ella? She drank the rest of her tea and texted Ryan to come in any time. She had a feeling once she read the letter, she would need time to herself to think.
Before the woman returned, Ryan knocked on the door. Shandra started toward the living room, but Mrs. Rider was already at the door.
“Come in. You must be Ryan, Shandra’s young man.” The older woman took Ryan’s arm and led him to the kitchen. “Have a seat.” When he was seated, she placed a cup in front of him and filled all the tea cups.
Shandra sat, her gaze on the woman, wondering what she had done with the letter.
At that moment, the older woman placed an envelope on the table beside her tea cup. “Tell me what you think of our reservation?” she asked Ryan.
Shandra barely heard Ryan’s response as she stared at the envelope. What could grandmother have written to her before her death?
“Shandra? Shandra,” Ryan said, drawing her thoughts from the missive to him.
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Rider asked about the wedding. You know more about that than I do.” Ryan studied her. He knew something was off.
“Plans are to have the ceremony at the Powwow grounds. Family will bring food for afterwards.”
The older woman nodded. “I like that. Traditional.” She glanced at Ryan. “Are you wearing buckskins? I heard Wendy is making Shandra a traditional doeskin dress.”
“No, I’m going to stay true to my roots. Jeans, boots, cowboy hat, and cowboy cut jacket.”
Shandra put a hand on Ryan’s arm. “He’s handsome in his fancy clothes.”
“I can tell you are a lucky woman.” Mrs. Rider smiled and peered at Ryan. “Logan also believes you are a lucky man.”
“That I am,” Ryan said, patting Shandra’s hand still resting on his arm. “I’m sorry to take her away, but we still have a lot to accomplish and we only have until Sunday to get it done.”
“I understand.”
Shandra’s gaze shot to the envelope now under the woman’s hand. Ryan must have felt her anxiety because he stood, studying her.
“Thank you for the tea and the stories about Grandmother,” she said, standing.
“You’re welcome. Come by any time.” Mrs. Rider stood, picking up the letter at the same time.
They walked through the living room to the door.
Ryan opened the door and stepped out.
Mrs. Rider pulled Shandra into a hug and whispered, “May the Creator look over you.” The old woman released her and held out the envelope.