

# Healing Woman

# of the

# Red Rocks

"Red Rocks Trilogy: PAST, Present, Future"

# Verna Clay

For healers, traditional and non-traditional, whose hearts yearn to heal the infirmed.

Healing Woman of the Red Rocks

Red Rocks Trilogy: PAST, Present, Future

Copyright © 2015 by Verna Clay

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

For information contact:

vernaclay@vernaclay.com

http://www.vernaclay.com

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Published by:

M.O.I. Publishing  
"Mirrors of Imagination"

Cover Design:

Verna Clay

Pictures:

CanStock: Diomedes66 (Scenery)

Canstock: coka (Female)

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

#  Preface

Healing Woman of the Red Rocks is a story I contemplated over many months. After spending time with friends in Sedona, Arizona, I knew the red rocks had to play a major part in this book.

Through serendipitous circumstances, I met Sharlleyn (Sharla) MacIntyre, an energy healer living in Sedona. She graciously took me on a hike that turned into an "aha" moment when we walked through a beautiful valley below towering monoliths. The setting was perfect for the heroine of my story to have her cabin.

My new friend Sharla is not only an energy healer who creates elixirs (her website is listed at the end of the book), but she is also a gifted artist; a very talented woman. From my first niggling about this storyline, it became my intention to add a metaphysical/mystical aspect and I thank Sharla for being instrumental in that regard.

I would also like to thank the friendly and knowledgeable State Park Rangers at Fort Verde in Arizona for answering my many questions. The fort is well-preserved and contains amazing artifacts. It's a step back in history and I spent a wonderful hour time-traveling.

Another thank you goes to Chris Brusca at the Globe-Miami Regional Chamber of Commerce, also in Arizona. She was very patient in pointing out areas of interest on a map and answering questions.

And yet another thank you goes to the White Mountain Apache Cultural Center and Museum with its rich history and helpful attendants. Visitors not only experience the Apache heritage inside the museum, but outside, the remaining buildings of Fort Apache are preserved.

Final thanks goes to Sharon Banes and Diane Brazier for helping me troubleshoot the story and offering amazing suggestions (and for playing dress-up at Fort Verde); also, Theodosia Greene for proofreading and pinpointing problematic areas, and Ruby Merritt for winning a contest to name a character in my story. The name she chose was Amelia Matthews who became the child of my hero.

Because I love history, I included many real-life characters in this story, some are well known, and some are not. In the Authors Note at the end of this book I listed these true-to-life persons.

Any factual or geographical errors in this tale are my sole responsibility.

Verna Clay
Table of Contents

Preface

Prologue

1: Lollipop

2: Déjà Vu

3: Strange Conversation

4: Disclosure

5: He's Coming

6: Reaching the Trail

7: Salt River Scare

8: Dreaming

9: Encampment

10: Lawman

11: German Miner

12: Following the Salt River

13: Meeting the General

14: Clues

15: Tracking Indians

16: Castle in the Sky and Mysterious Water from the Earth

17: Almost There

18: Preparation

19: Barn Surprise

20: Clash

21: Elixir

22: History

23: Meeting Again

24: Doctoring

25: Soul Talk

26: Spirit Tree

27: Portraiture

28: Visitation

29: Broken Heart

30: Disbelief

31: Family

32: Reunion

33: Hospitality

34: Trust Me

35: Open It

36: Sowing and Reaping

37: Mrs. Wilder

Epilogue

Author's Note

Cry of the West: Hallie

Novels and Novellas by Verna Clay
Prologue

There is a grief so profound it entombs the griever with the dead one. I weep for those who have fallen into that abyss. I weep for myself.

Thomas Matthews closed his journal, slipped it into a drawer, placed his elbows on the smooth wood of his desk, and lowered his head into the palms of his hands as images from the previous thirty-six hours flashed across his grief-stricken mind. The first image was that of his dying wife begging him to let her go. The next was her body being dressed for burial by women who had become her dear friends over the past three years. Thomas knew that if he'd had to dress her, he would have died of sorrow in the process. The final image was that of her casket being lowered into a cold grave.

A groan rising from depths he had not known he possessed took on a life of its own and escaped the confines of his heart. And although he did not want to weep again, there was no stopping it.

As a doctor, he had failed to find a cure for his wife's mysterious illness. Relentless research of medical tomes and numerous treatments, in the end, had been for naught. His every attempt to commandeer the sickness had met with failure. Over the course of a year her body had grown steadily weaker until, unable to leave her bed and almost blind, she had spoken of her eminent death while he held her hand. Even then, he'd refused to give in to what she knew to be inevitable. He'd begged her to keep fighting the disease that was wasting away her body.

Finally, in a ravaged whisper, she'd pleaded, "Thomas, please let me go. It's time and I'm so tired."

"No, Ruth. You can't give up. I'll find a cure–"

"Shhh, Thomas. I can't stay. You and Amelia must go on without me."

Over the next hours, Ruth's condition had deteriorated until she'd become comatose. It was only in a last flickering of life that she'd briefly opened her eyes and he'd recognized the pleading there. On a sob, he had lifted her bone thin fingers to his lips and forced out the words she needed to hear. "I love you Ruthie and I'm letting you go. You're free to do what you must."

Remembering now the serenity that had replaced the heartbreaking anguish in her eyes brought another wrenching sob from the depths of his soul. But now, as then, he knew he'd done right by her.

The words exhaled on her last breath were, "Thank you, my love."

#  1: Lollipop

1882: two years later

Thomas closed the door to his medical practice and inserted his key in the lock. Although it was early January, the day had been warm with clear skies, but now distant storm clouds held a promise of rain. He descended the porch steps and traversed the short brick path to the dusty road. Next door at the dressmaker's shop, Mrs. Mullins was also locking up. She waved and wished him a pleasant evening, and he reciprocated her words.

A few buckboards and a scattering of carriages ambled along the thoroughfare. Crossing to the boardwalk on the opposite side of the street, he tipped his hat toward Mr. and Mrs. Simons as they approached in their new buggy. Mr. Simons, a patient of Thomas' who often suffered gout, called, "Howdy, Doc. The foot's much better. What do you think of my new buggy?" He pulled on the reins of his two steeds and shouted, "Whoa!"

Thomas smiled and remarked, "It's a beaut, Norm, and I'm happy to hear about your foot."

For several minutes they chitchatted until a buckboard with an impatient owner pulled up behind them. "Come on Simons, I don't have time to sit here while you jaw at the doc!" called Mr. Ironstone.

Thomas stepped away from the buggy and the elderly Mr. Simons sighed, wished Thomas a pleasant evening, and jiggled the reins of his horses. "Giddup," he called as they continued northwest of town along Broad Street. Mrs. Simons turned and waved.

Thomas nodded to crotchety Mr. Ironstone as he rolled past. The old man grumbled and Thomas continued across the road. He stepped onto the boardwalk and strolled two blocks until he reached Shep's General Store. The rotund Mr. Shepherd paused in anchoring a can of corn on a display pyramid and jovially greeted him. "Hello, Dr. Matthews." He wiped his hands on a stained apron that barely covered his huge midsection. His wife, Clara, entered from the storage room behind the counter and also called a greeting.

Whereas Shep must weigh over three hundred pounds, Clara probably weighed less than a hundred. Shep tended to be quiet and Clara boldly outspoken. They were the most mismatched couple Thomas had ever met, but their love for each other often put a lump in his throat. It reminded him of the love he and Ruth had shared.

Plucking sad memories before they could sprout, he said, "Hello, Shep, Clara. I was thinking I'd surprise Amy with a lollipop. Also, did the carbolic acid I ordered come in?"

"It sure did. I'll get the bottles for you," said Shep.

While her husband stepped into the storage room, Clara said, "Just yesterday we got a shipment of lollipops. Pick out what you want for your sweet little girl and add an extra one from me and Shep."

Thomas smiled at the woman's friendly words as she motioned him toward the colorful candy jar. "Thanks, Clara."

"My pleasure, Doc."

While Thomas selected a red and blue striped candy, Clara kept talking. "Spring and summer will be here before we know it. You got any plans to travel to Chicago to visit your family now that the railroad has come to Tucson?"

"I haven't decided. I'm not keen on subjecting Amy or myself to the three-day stagecoach ride to board the train there. And from what I've heard, that route has become a hotbed for robberies. Of course I miss my family, but I also have patients who need me here." He chose another candy, a solid green one.

Clara said, "Well, if you ask me, you need some sort of vacation, even if it's just relaxing at home. I'm sure Dr. Pritchard would cover for you. You work too hard not to take off now and again."

Thomas knew contradicting Clara would only prolong a conversation he couldn't win, so he just said, "Like I said, I'm undecided." He handed his candy selection to her as Shep returned from the back room with his order. Quickly, he settled his tab before Clara could continue her admonishment.

Retracing his path along the boardwalk, he glanced at his office across the street and felt his usual sense of pride; followed by sadness that Ruth wasn't with him to share their accomplishment. After receiving his physician's degree from Rush Medical College in Chicago, he had signed on as a civilian doctor working for the military in Arizona Territory, and for two years he, Ruth, and their toddler Amy, had lived at Camp Apache, later renamed Fort Apache. The fort had been at the forefront of the Indian wars and often visited by General George Crook, the great Indian fighter.

During their time at the fort, he had doctored as many Indians as military men. Often, Indian mothers would bring their sick children to the fort for white man's medicine, but sadly, white man's diseases were frequently incurable among the native population.

After his contract with the military ended he had moved his wife and daughter to the bustling silver and copper mining town of Globe, so named after an earth-shaped silver nugget had been found in the area. The sometimes rowdy town was located in the foothills of the Pinal Mountains. To the north were the White Mountains, south, the Pinal Mountains, and west, the Superstition mountains. Although less than a hundred miles separated Fort Apache in the White Mountain foothills from Globe, the contrast between military life and civilian, was unfathomable. For the first time, Thomas and Ruth felt like they could build a stable home among townsfolk. That first year had been lean as he and Ruth worked hard to establish his practice, and sometimes he wondered if the stress of military life and then beginning all over again, had contributed to her illness. He'd tried to shield her as much as possible, but she wasn't one to shy away from challenges. After they'd rented a small storefront, she'd relentlessly cleaned it and then set up his books. She'd also assisted with patients until they were in a position to hire the local midwife as his assistant.

The two story building had previously been a barber shop with two rooms downstairs and two rooms upstairs. In order to conserve funds they had made their home upstairs. And although the space was small, Ruth had created a beautiful home for him and Amy. The second year his medical practice had become profitable enough for them to purchase a home at minimal cost when a wealthy patient, almost dead from pneumonia, made a remarkable recovery under his care. The grateful man, co-owner of a profitable mine, had tried to give the home to Thomas, but Thomas had refused such a wondrous gift. It wasn't in his nature to take advantage of others' generosity. When the elderly gent had offered to sell it to him, they'd haggled over the price with Thomas wanting to pay more than the man was asking. In the end, they'd settled on what Thomas considered a reasonable price. After they'd moved from the medical office, the upstairs rooms were converted into a small hospital.

Their new home was located on a few acres at the outskirts of town and it was so lovely it often brought tears to Ruth's eyes. They had been happy as his practice continued to thrive and they settled into their community. Then Ruth had begun showing symptoms of a strange illness that slowly ebbed away her life.

Puffing a breath and rolling his shoulders, Thomas again pushed morose thoughts aside as he continued toward the livery stable to retrieve his horse.

#  2: Déjà Vu

Occasionally Thomas drove his buggy to town, but most times he rode his gelding, Stanton. He'd named the horse after his beloved uncle who had made it possible for him to attend medical school in Chicago.

Thomas' family had been farmers outside of Chicago, and although supportive of his desire to become a doctor, struggled financially at the end of every harvest. Since the age of twelve, after watching his mother die of consumption and leaving a husband and three sons behind, he'd burned with a desire to help the sick. It had only been through the generosity of his father's brother, a modest investor in railroad expansion, as well as a scholarship, that his dream of attending medical school was realized at the age of twenty-three.

Thomas trotted Stanton to his home, dismounted, and handed the reins to Josiah, his stable boy and all-round help. The ten year old always had a ready grin revealing a chipped tooth from a beating he'd received. Drunken cowboys, for no apparent reason other than orneriness, had punched and shoved him into the dirt outside a saloon. Thomas had witnessed the altercation while returning from a house call, and, driven by rage that anyone could harm a child, pulled his rifle from its scabbard. Sitting atop Stanton, his shout, as well as the cocking of his rifle, had captured the attention of the two bullies.

"Hey, what's the matter with you?" slurred the taller of the louts.

"Do you know this boy?" Thomas demanded.

"And if I do. What's it to ya?"

His companion staggered sideways and said, "He works on the same cattle drive as us."

"Do you make it a habit to beat up children?" Thomas could barely control his anger.

"Uh, uh..." responded the tall cowboy.

His hesitation was all Thomas needed to take action. He'd said to the boy, "Climb on my horse, son. You're coming with me."

Unbelievably, the lad had swiped the blood from his mouth and replied, "Sir, I need this job 'cause it pays and feeds me."

Without removing his gaze from the sorry-ass men, Thomas responded, "You got a new job with me. Get on the back of my horse." He'd then reached down to help the boy up. The boy's eyes had widened and even though his face registered surprise, Thomas saw relief.

That had been a year ago and Josiah was the best hand Thomas could have hoped for. He'd invited Josiah to live in his home, but the child declined, saying he preferred to stay in the barn. Rather than argue, Thomas had understood and respected his decision. He knew it had everything to do with pride so he'd hired workers to section off part of the barn for the boy to live in.

Thomas returned his thoughts to the present as Josiah started toward the barn. Amy ran onto the porch, followed by Mrs. Polly Nettles. Josiah paused and said, "Hi, Amy."

Amy grinned at Josiah and shyly replied, "Hello Josiah."

Looking slightly embarrassed, Josiah nodded at Thomas and continued toward the barn.

Thomas returned his attention to his eight year old daughter and the middle-aged woman who was another godsend he had serendipitously stumbled upon. During an examination of an elderly patient known for her gossip, he'd learned of a woman being evicted from her home because of an inability to make mortgage payments after the death of her husband. Mrs. Wilder, his nosy patient, had praised the woman's upright personality and stoic resolve that "God would make a way." Being newly widowed himself, Thomas had been interviewing matrons to care for his child and home. As it turned out, Polly had been the perfect fit for them.

Amy ran down the porch steps waving a paper, but before she reached Thomas, her legs buckled and she fell onto the flagstone walkway. Thomas and Polly both yelled, "Amy!" and rushed toward her.

Amy started to rise, but Thomas said, "Honey, stay still until I can check you for injury."

"I will, papa," she said with a little sob.

Polly knelt beside Amy and smoothed her pale blond hair tied back with a pink bow while Thomas checked her limbs. Nothing seemed to be broken. Helping his daughter to stand, he said, "Amy, did you stub your toe on the flagstone?"

"I don't think so. I just felt a little dizzy and then my legs got weak."

An arrow of foreboding lanced Thomas' heart. He lifted Amy into his arms and said, "I'll just carry you to the couch and you can show me your picture while Polly washes your scrape."

While Polly cleaned the abrasion, Thomas praised the pastoral scene his daughter had drawn at school. The ploy to keep her attention away from the antiseptic swiped on her leg mostly worked. She only scrunched her face and said, "Ouch," once.

Thomas said, "Amy, do you feel dizzy now?"

"No, sir."

"Then why don't you take your picture to your room and decide which wall you want to hang it on. I'll get a hammer and nail and meet you there in a few minutes."

His promise made her smile and she said, "I know just where I want to hang it."

After she ascended the stairs, he turned to Polly and asked a question he dreaded. "Polly, has Amy been stumbling frequently?"

Polly blinked rapidly. "Yes, sir. It started a couple of days ago, but I thought it was just childhood clumsiness. I didn't think much about it until now when she said she was dizzy."

Fear clutched Thomas' heart. Amy's mother's illness had begun in the same manner—dizziness and frequent falling.

#  3: Strange Conversation

The whiskey burned a path to Thomas' stomach and did little to erase his living nightmare. The past two months had been hell as he watched his daughter display the same symptoms that had eventually extinguished her mother's life. Today had been the worst yet when Amy complained of blurred vision, but an examination had revealed nothing other than the strange illness manifesting yet another symptom. His worry was compounded by the fact that she was so small for her age. Not being a robust child, would that hasten the illness?

Thomas pushed his shot glass across the scarred surface of the bar and said, "Another one."

The bartender who occasionally came to Thomas because of headaches asked, "Doc, you sure about that? If you need to air your head out, I'm a good listener. I guarantee I'm better than a hangover."

"Thanks, Slim, but there are some things only whiskey helps with for awhile. Pour another shot."

Slim shrugged and poured as requested.

Rather than toss the whiskey down, Thomas wrapped his hand around the glass and closed his eyes, wondering what he'd done in life to deserve the loss of his wife and now possibly his daughter. Although his early twenties before entering medical school had been somewhat on the wild side, he'd never cheated at cards, slept with another man's wife, killed anyone, or lied or cussed overmuch as far as he could remember. His father and brothers had been appalled by his behavior, but his uncle on his father's side had quipped, "He's only sowing his wild oats, Henry. It'll pass, just like it did with you."

His uncle had been right. At the age of twenty-three Thomas had lost interest in cards and fancy women when he'd entered the medical academy.

He squeezed his eyes tighter and was about to swig the rotgut, when the cowboy beside him said to his companion, "Marv, it was the damndest thing I ever seen. No wonder the Indians call her Healing Woman of the Red Rocks."

His drinking companion asked, "Did she ever tell you her name?"

"No. And I never asked. She wasn't much for talk. By the time I got Billy there, he was as white as a ghost and I figured he was dead. Hell, maybe he was. Maybe she brought the young fella back from the pits o' hell—that place we'll all end up after the life we've lived. 'Course the kid died last year so I reckon he's in that place now."

Thomas relaxed his grip on his whiskey glass and continued listening to the men, both of whom appeared to be about Thomas' age, late thirties.

Marv said, "Curly, tell me again how she saved him."

Curly belched and replied, "When we finally got there Billy was laying face forward over his horse's mane 'cause ten miles back he said he couldn't sit up no more. Hell, blood was drippin' down his arm and pooling on the ground, and it was a lot of blood." Curly snorted and continued, "I told him afore he started toward that stagecoach that I'd heard tell them drivers got new rifles that was deadly accurate. But he was determined and I was foolish enough to follow him. Well, we stopped the stagecoach all right and delivered the drivers of the strongbox and the passengers of their valuables, but when we shot the box open, there weren't much in it. Anyway, after we hightailed it outta' there, I figured we was lucky sons-o-bitches, but I was wrong—almost dead wrong. Either we didn't get all the drivers' rifles or one o' them men in the coach had hidden one. We was a good distance away when I heard the first shot and Billy fell off his horse. I figured I'd be next if I didn't get low, so I dove for the ground just as a bullet buzzed past my head. I'd say it was God's grace, but sure as hell that would be stretching it. Anyway, we was close to some rocks and I pulled Billy behind 'em. Another shot landed in the dirt in front of the rocks and I fired my Colt cause the horses done run off with our rifles and the ones we stole. Everything went silent and I figured they was discussin' whether to come after us so I fired again just to let 'em know I meant business, and to my surprise, they left."

Thomas heard one of the men spit tobacco in the spittoon and waited for the conclusion to the story. He wasn't disappointed.

Curly swore some foul language and continued, "I figured they left 'cause the loot we'd taken was a piddle in a bucket and there was a woman and child on the coach. If not, they woulda' unhitched a couple of horses and been on us like flies on dung." Curly called, "Hey Bartender, another round."

Thomas opened his eyes and stared at the amber liquid in his glass. There was a jangle of change as the men paid for their drinks.

Curly said, "I managed to round up our horses and get Billy on his. It was then I remembered hearing an old trapper spoutin' a tale 'bout this woman who lived in the red rocks below Flagstaff. He said she could heal anyone, even animals. When he started tellin' 'bout some o' the ailments she'd healed, I thought he was talkin' out his arse, but I never forgot it. One look at Billy with a bullet in the vicinity of his heart and I knew he was a walkin' dead man. 'Course he wasn't walkin', not by a long shot. We was over in the Verde Valley which wasn't far from the red rocks as the crow flies, and I just grabbed the reins o' Billy's horse and told the kid, 'We sure as hell can't go to Fort Verde to see the doc. They'd recognize us in a heartbeat and hang us afore the sun set, so we're gonna go find that healing woman.'"

"What did Billy say?" asked Marv.

"He didn't say nothin', just nodded, 'cause he knew what I said was true. It took us all day and part of the night to get there. And again, I'd say providence was guiding us if it weren't such a ridiculous notion 'cause we happened onto the path of an old trapper who pointed us in the right direction. He said he'd been to see her a few times in the past five years, and she'd even healed him of gangrene."

"So, what'd she do to heal Billy?"

"Hell, I don't rightly know. It was night when we got there and the healing woman come outta' her cabin like she had no fear. She walked right up to us, shined her lantern on Billy layin' on his horse, and motioned for me to bring him into the barn. Frankly, she scared the sheeit outta me with them weird colored eyes. They was kinda blue, kinda purple."

There was silence and then Thomas jumped when a whisky glass hit the table. Curly made an "Ahhh" sound and said, "Marv, I swear on my mother's grave that this is the honest truth. When we walked into the barn I almost peed my pants. There was stall after stall of animals. Some was obviously injured, and others, I don't know if they was pets or what. She made me take Billy to a room at the back o' the barn and inside was an old Indian. Somethin' was wrong with his stomach 'cause it was wrapped up. She pointed to an empty cot and I put Billy on it. Then she started grabbin' bottles and boxes of stuff off shelves. Now mind you, she hadn't said a word."

"So what'd she do with the stuff she grabbed?"

"Hell if I know. She motioned for me to leave and, believe me, that little mite of a woman scared me more'n a posse of lawmen. I just did what she said and went to take care of the horses. After that, I laid my bedroll out in a corner of the barn and fell asleep."

Thomas swirled the whiskey in his glass. His heart had started pounding. He had to know the ending to the story. The cowboy was quiet for so long that he was just about to turn and ask him to continue, when Curly said, "When I woke at dawn, I was afraid of what I'd see if I walked back into that room, but Billy was my friend and if he needed to be buried, I was gonna give him a good Christian one to help him when he reached the pearly gates. But when I opened the door, I was shocked to see him sleepin' like a baby. I think he even had a smile on his face. His chest was bandaged and there was some kind of brown goo oozing out the sides, but he weren't in no pain. And the damndest thing, there was two crystals 'bout the size o' a big man's fist. One was on a table at the head of his bed and the other on a table at the foot. The old Indian was still asleep so I just slipped from the room not wantin' to disturb him or Billy. When I got back to my bedroll there was a tray o' food waitin' for me. After I ate, I went into the woods to take care o' nature's call and when I come back, the old Indian was sittin' on the porch with the healing woman. Neither of them spoke to me, but to be polite, I called out a thank you for the food. She just nodded and went back to talkin' with the Indian. The Indian musta' left that day 'cause I never seen him again.

"A week later Billy was well enough to travel. Some o' them concoctions the woman rubbed on his wound was nasty lookin' stuff, and she made him drink some kind o' potion every day, but the treatments worked. I seen men shot afore and sometimes it takes weeks, if not months, to recover. I ain't never seen the likes o' this though."

Curly ordered and slammed another whiskey while Thomas gathered his thoughts. Coming to a decision, he turned to Curly and said, "Sir, I couldn't help overhearing your conversation, and since I'm a doctor, I find your story fascinating. Can you tell me more about this woman?"

The cowboy, covered in desert dust, eyed him suspiciously and narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you're a lawman just sayin' you're a doctor."

Thomas lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I assure you, I am who I say I am, and I have no interest in your...er...colorful history. In fact, the bartender can vouch for me." He called to Slim at the end of the bar, "Hey, Slim, am I the local doctor?"

"Damn straights, and a fine one at that."

"Thanks." Thomas returned his attention to Curly. "The reason I'm asking about the healing woman is because I have a patient with a mysterious illness and nothing I do seems to help. The healing woman may be my patient's last resort."

Curly's harsh features softened a little and he scratched the salt-and-pepper bristle on his chin. "Well, like you heard, I don't know nothin' 'bout her. She never talked to me; just give me food every day. The one time I tried to make conversation she looked at me with them strange eyes and then turned and walked away."

"Was she Indian, Asian, White?"

"Well, her features was kinda Indian but her skin was as white as milk and she had hair black as midnight. It was long and pulled back in a braid that reached her arse. She was tiny, too. Prob'ly not much over five feet or a hundred pounds." He shook his head and mumbled, "I'll never forget them eyes."

Thomas puffed a breath. "Can you tell me how to find her?"

When Curly hesitated, Marv said, "Hell, Curly, tell the man so's he can maybe save his patient."

Curly nodded and said, "You know Fort Verde, where the military's set up to fight all them skirmishes?"

"Yes, I've seen it on a map."

"Well, the red rocks is northwest of there, maybe twenty, twenty-five miles as the crow flies. The healing woman lives at the southern end of the rocks in a little valley. Her house is about a hundred yards from a creek. But to get to Fort Verde from here, you gotta take the Yavapai Trail up into the Superstition Mountains and then follow the Salt River to the Verde River that branches off of it. But to save time, there's a trail that cuts northwest afore you get to the Verde. You follow it and eventually meet up with the river. The trail mostly goes alongside the riverbank and will take you to a cutoff to Fort Verde. Then there's a trail from Fort Verde headed toward the red rocks."

Thomas nodded. "Are there any markers I should look for once I get close to the rocks?"

"Well, you'll know you're headed in the right direction if you stay your course toward the gigantic rock shaped like a bell. There's a creek you'll follow part of the way and about a mile or two afore you reach the bell the trail veers northwest behind an outcropping of cliffs and boulders. You gotta get behind them cliffs. Eventually you'll come to another creek. Follow that creek northeast and you'll enter a valley and not long after, her cabin. That's how the trapper explained it to me and I found her easy enough."

Thomas motioned toward Slim. "Pour my friends another round, sir." He stretched his arm out to shake hands with Curly and then Marv.

Curly said, "I wish the best for your patient, sir."

Marv jerked his head toward a card table. "Would you care to join me and Curly Bill in a game of poker?"

Thomas declined but thanked the men for their help. Time was of the essence. He had to prepare for departure to the red rocks.

#  4: Disclosure

During the two days needed to prepare for a journey that from all accounts could be madness, Thomas often found himself second guessing his decision. Would the long crossing weaken his daughter's constitution and hasten her illness? Would they encounter adversity in locales known for Indian uprisings? Was he crazy for hoping someone with probably no medical training could help his daughter?

His resolve strengthened when Amy again complained of blurred vision that remained for over an hour. He checked her eyes, placed a cool cloth over them, and then swallowed against the lump in his throat.

With her eyes covered, Amy said, "Papa, am I going to die and go to heaven like Mama?"

"No, baby, you're going to grow up and have a family of your own and live a long, beautiful life."

"Papa, it's all right if I go to be with Mama. I know you're doing all your doctor stuff to help me, just like for Mama, but if I die, it's not your fault."

Thomas decided that now was a good time to tell Amy about his decision to seek help. "Amy, I heard about a woman with a gift for doctoring and I want to take you to her, but we'll have to travel a long way. I want to leave tomorrow. Do you think you're up to it?"

"Yes, Papa," Amy trustingly replied.

Thomas lifted his beautiful daughter's hand and kissed it. "I love you, Amy."

"I love you, too, Papa."

#  5: He's Coming

Tana awakened still hearing the echo of her grandmother's words from the realm of dreams. He's coming, dearest Tana. He's the one who will make you cry.

Sighing, she turned onto her side and yawned. Her grandmother Frannie had died when Tana was sixteen and she often visited her granddaughter in dreams, always with the same message about someone coming. Years ago, Tana had eagerly awaited his arrival, but when it never happened, she'd decided her grandmother was confused in her heavenly home. Of course, how that could be so, she'd never found a satisfactory answer.

Tana stretched and watched dawn lighten her window. She loved the golden rays that reached like loving fingers through the precious glass. It was the only window in her cabin with glass and so it remained permanently unshuttered, except in inclement weather. The other windows were shuttered each night, not because she was fearful, but because of all the forest creatures drawn to her cabin. If the windows were left open, she could awaken to any number of guests—birds, squirrels, chipmunks, skunks, even an occasional snake.

The sun continued its ascent and Tana scooted to the edge of the bed until the light hit her squarely in the face. Drinking in the warmth of an early spring, she pondered Frannie's words, He's coming, dearest Tana. He's the one who will make you cry.

Speaking aloud, she said, "Frannie, you've been teasing me with those words for years. I'm thirty now and still no one has come. And you know I don't cry. I didn't even cry when you were buried, or Grandpa or Papa or Mama, because I know you're always with me." She chuckled. "I sometimes see you all out of the corner of my eye. And I always feel your presence. So, if I don't cry for the departed, why would I cry for a living person?"

The sun was now shining brightly so Tana swung her legs over the side of the bed, reached for her shawl, and mentally prepared for her day. At present, she had no humans to care for, only animals. Just the day before an injured wolf had dragged himself to her porch, making his presence known with a pathetic yowl. Tana had been at the sink preparing an herbal solution for a rabbit with a nasty gash on his left forepaw when she heard the wolf. Rushing onto her porch she'd momentarily felt the animal's pain, something that occasionally happened, and closed her eyes waiting for it to subside. Then she'd rushed to the poor creature speaking soothing words as she circled him. When she knew it was safe to approach, she'd knelt and gently rubbed his head. "You poor dear. What's happened? It's your back leg, isn't it? I felt your pain."

The wolf, lying on his side, made a pitiful sound as Tana continued, "Well, I've got something that will help immediately. I'll be right back." She rushed into the house and pulled the stopper from a jug containing a liquid of soaked herbs for the relief of pain. The potent recipe had been passed down through many generations in her family and perfected by her grandfather's knowledge of local herbs. Now she poured it into a clay dish for the wolf to drink. Placing it on the ground in front of him, she encouraged him to lap it up. While he did so, she said, "You're Warrior. I named you long ago when I saw how bravely you led and protected your pack. I thank you and the others for watching over me all these years."

A few minutes later, Warrior closed his eyes and sighed. Gently, Tana inspected his leg and discovered it was broken. With precision and skill she splinted his leg and then placed him in a flatbed wheel barrel to transport to an empty stall in the barn. After she'd made him as comfortable as possible and set a bowl of water within reach, she collected eggs, milked her goat, led her mule to the creek to eat and drink, and began daily rounds of the injured and sick animals that had come to her. At the completion of her chores she perched on a stool in the center of the barn and sang Irish songs to her beloved guests.

#  6: Reaching the Trail

With his pack mule named Petunia loaded with supplies and Stanton saddled, Thomas lifted Amy onto his horse. His housekeeper Polly showed her concern for their departure by twisting her hands in her apron. At best, the trip would take three or four weeks to reach the red rocks. Standing beside Polly, Josiah swiped his eyes. Thomas had never seen the child cry, not even when he'd been abused by the cowpokes, and it deeply touched his heart. Kneeling in front of the lad, he pulled him into a hug. "We'll return soon, Josiah. You're the man of the house while I'm gone, so take good care of Mrs. Nettles and the animals."

Josiah croaked, "Yes, sir. I will." He lifted his gaze to Amy on Stanton and said, "Bye, Amy."

"Bye, Josiah. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," he choked.

Thomas patted Josiah's shoulder in a gesture of comfort, then stood and turned to Polly, embracing her. The poor woman released a sob and Thomas said, "Now, now, Polly, I hope to be back before the summer heat sets in."

The kindly woman returned his hug and then turned to compose herself. Thomas glanced between his housekeeper and stable boy and knew they had become so much more than hired help; they were family.

Although Amy had already said her goodbyes, tears glinted in her eyes. Thomas understood how she felt. They were leaving everyone and everything dear to them. With resolve, he grabbed the reins of Stanton and started forward. Petunia, tied to his horse, showed no resistance as she followed behind. They were headed for the Yavapai Trail, a track traversed by the native population for perhaps hundreds of years.

Although Stanton was large and strong and could carry Thomas' weight, Thomas would walk most of the journey to lighten his horse's load. He and Amy would begin their trek by following the road in front of their home away from the direction of town, and by nightfall they would reach an unnamed trail blazed by scouting parties over the past twenty-five years. That trail would eventually catch up with the ancient Yavapai route northwest of Globe and lead them through the Superstition Mountains.

When Thomas had moved his family from Fort Apache to Globe they had followed a goodly portion of the Yavapai Trail through the White Mountains that, at times, was steep and treacherous as it traversed the Salt River Canyon. However, steely determination to live a stable life among civilians had strengthened their resolve. In the end, the journey had been worth the hardship, and although Ruth only lived a short time to enjoy the fruit of their hopes and dreams, Thomas was grateful for that time.

To quell his misgivings about his current journey, he said to Amy, "Why don't you sing? It'll make the time pass faster. And I love hearing your voice."

"What song should I sing?"

"How about Shenandoah?"

In a beautiful voice that Amy had inherited from her mother, his daughter sang into the crisp, cool air. Occasionally, Thomas joined her, harmonizing with his baritone voice, but mostly, he just listened.

Shortly after midday they reached a junction with a weathered post and cross post nailed to it. Etched into the cross post was an arrow and the faded words, "25 miles to Yavapai Trail." Turning west onto the path that would lead them to where they wanted to go, they immediately encountered ruts and potholes. Their journey had begun in earnest.

At dusk they set up camp. After caring for the animals, Thomas started a fire from the mesquite wood he had gathered throughout the day and set his tripod over it. Soon he had a pot of Polly's beans warming over the fire. Next, he brewed strong coffee. Finally, he erected his tent and laid out bedrolls. Amy helped, but when she stumbled, he caught her before she landed on a rock. After that, he insisted she sit beside the fire until supper was ready.

"I'm sorry for being so clumsy, Papa."

Her innocent words twisted his heart. "Honey, you've spent a long day on a horse and it's not unusual to be a little wobbly on your feet." He wanted to believe his own words, but he knew they were a lie. She was wasting away from the same disease that had killed her mother.

After supper they remained by the fire eating slices of apple pie sweetened with agave nectar that Polly had packed for them. Amy said, "Do you think Mama is watching us from heaven?"

"I know she is."

"Papa, why do mamas sometimes die and leave their children? My friend Phoebe's mama also died and she had seven children."

"I don't think I have an answer for that, Amy. There are lots of things that happen in this world that no one understands."

"Like how some people are bad and some are good?"

"Yes."

"Do you think we'll meet bad people before we get to the healing woman?"

"I certainly hope not."

"Do you think the Indians are bad people, Papa?"

"Maybe some are, just like some white folk, but most people are fair-minded and just. Even some of the bad ones I think are basically good. The problem is they've been forced into situations that caused them to make wrong choices."

"So you think a bad person could maybe become a good person again?"

"I do." Thomas heard Amy yawn and patted her head. "I also think you're a tired little girl who needs to go to bed."

Tucking his daughter in, he said, "Goodnight, baby girl."

"Night, Papa."

Thomas watched his daughter drift to sleep and then lifted his eyes heavenward, breathing a prayer for their safety and Amy's healing.

#  7: Salt River Scare

It took two days to reach the Yavapai Trail and travel over the next week proved to be quite strenuous as Thomas led his horse and mule through a ravine cut by the Salt River. The trek was often alongside steep cliffs falling hundreds of feet to the river and jagged rocks below. More than once, he again questioned his sanity, but then Amy would display yet another symptom of her disease and his resolve would strengthen. He had promised his daughter she would live a long, productive life, and he found solace in believing the chance meeting with the outlaws had somehow been serendipitous. He'd never been a religious man, but right now he needed something to hang on to, and the healing woman was his lifeline.

During that first week on the trail they only crossed paths twice with others. Their first encounter was with a weathered miner leading a mule loaded with pick axes, shovels, pans, and other necessities for such a grueling life. The white bearded curmudgeon acknowledged Thomas' greeting with only a grunt as they passed on the narrow trail.

Three days later an Indian family traveling in the same direction as Thomas and Amy, caught up with them, and by the father's friendly smile, Thomas had no fear for himself or his daughter. He had often acted as physician to Indians and their children, and they had always treated him well.

Thomas guided his horse and mule close to the cliff face so the family with two children could pass by. He didn't know if they spoke English but he said in a friendly tone, "Hello. My name is Thomas Matthews and this is my daughter, Amy."

Amy said, "Hello," and gave a little wave to a girl about her own age. The Indian child ducked her head behind her mother.

The father said in broken English, "I Running Elk." He pointed to the woman beside him. "Little Deer." Then he pointed to the boy. "Big Bear." The girl peeked from behind her mother and he said, "Flower in Wind."

The boy named Big Bear, who was indeed very large at the age of maybe eleven or twelve, nodded respectfully. The girl shyly smiled.

Thomas said, "I'm pleased to meet you. Where are you traveling?"

"We go to other side of mountain. You?"

"We're headed toward the red rocks."

Running Elk appeared to know exactly where Thomas meant because he said, "Very pretty. I see red rocks as boy. I never forget." He frowned. "But Great White Chief now take Indian land."

Thomas had no response to the truth of Running Elk's words. Over the years many whites and Indians had lost there lives in a ceaseless tug-of-war for the land. Although tensions were always high and unrest could erupt at any time, the wars had quieted due to General Crook and his Indian scouts.

Running Elk said something in his own language to his wife and she nodded in reply. His expression became serious and he pointed toward Thomas' black medical bag hanging from Petunia. "You are doctor?"

"Yes."

"You have white man's medicine with you?"

Cautiously, Thomas replied, "Very little medicine."

Running Elk's expression turned to disappointment as he motioned Big Bear forward. Obediently, the child stepped beside his father. Again, Running Elk spoke in the Apache language, this time to his son. The boy nodded and lifted his buckskin breeches above his calf to reveal a large, infected gash.

Thomas asked, "May I look at the wound?"

Running Elk waved him forward.

"How did this happen?" asked Thomas.

"Boy fall on stick," replied Running Elk.

Thomas glanced up from kneeling beside Big Bear. "I have medicine for this. I'll give you some. It should make the wound better."

Running Elk gave a relieved smile. "Yes, we need medicine."

Thomas walked to his mule and opened his leather bag. He removed a bottle of tincture of iodine and some bandages before reaching for a canteen of water and returning to Big Bear. Thomas said to the child, "Please sit there," and motioned toward a rock jutting from the cliff wall.

Running Elk instructed his boy in their language and Thomas set about cleaning and bandaging the wound. Although the ministrations must have hurt, especially when the gash was coated with the iodine, the child only flinched. Finally, the injury was bandaged and Thomas explained to Running Elk as simply as he could how to care for the wound and gave him one of his two bottles of the tincture.

Running Elk said, "Thank you. You good white man."

Little Deer, with an expression of relief for her child's care, smiled her gratefulness.

Flower in Wind ducked behind her mother again and smiled at Amy.

Big Bear nodded a thank you to Thomas.

Running Elk then motioned his family onward. Soon they rounded a bend in the trail and Thomas lost sight of them.

Throughout the remainder of the day the heat climbed steadily and Thomas was thankful they were traveling during spring. If it had been the height of summer or winter, the journey would have been impossible. Again, the opportune timing was not lost on him.

As their trail neared the bottom of a ravine increased vegetation made traveling much more pleasant. Toward evening they reached the Salt River and Thomas decided to set up camp earlier than usual. He wanted to take advantage of the nearby water. As the sun blazed a path to the horizon, he and Amy, in their undergarments, sat on the riverbank laughing and splashing water on their dusty faces. Thomas reached for the bar of soap he'd placed on a rock but paused when he heard rustling behind him.

He turned and froze.

#  8: Dreaming

Tana yawned and couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so sleepy. Her day had become strenuous when a bull elk showed up with an infected hoof. Cleaning and trimming the hoof had proven to be quite difficult.

Sitting in Frannie's rocker on her porch, she yawned again and leaned her head against the headrest. Within moments she drifted into a dream state. Surrounded by fog, she watched it slowly dissipate until she realized she was standing in the midst of juniper trees. Through the trees she caught a glimmer of water and started toward it. She was halted by the roar of an angry bear. Focusing her attention to her left she saw the animal standing on her hind legs, pawing the air, and preparing to attack. Tana's heartbeat quickened when she realized the bear's anger was directed toward two shapes still shrouded in mist. One was obviously a child. Returning her attention to the bear, she suddenly understood her rage. Her two cubs had been captured by trappers and now she hated all humans.

Out of the mist she heard her grandmother's voice. You must save them, Tana.

Tana replied in shock, "Frannie, you've never spoken anything to me other than the coming of a man. Is that him? Is that his child? Why can't I see them clearly?"

Frannie spoke again, Save them, Tana.

Tana returned her attention to the bear and spoke aloud, "Please don't harm them. These people are innocent."

The bear paused in her charge and turned to face Tana. For long moments they stared at each other before the grieving animal turned and lumbered away. Tana spun around hoping to see the man and child clearly, but as intangible as the fog, they faded into nothingness. "Frannie, are you still there?"

He's coming and he's not alone. He will make you cry.

Tana jerked awake and bolted upright. The dream was unsettling because Frannie had added another dimension to the mysterious stranger. Was he the one in the fog, the one who was coming? And was he bringing a child? She reached for the shawl draped over the back of her chair and wrapped herself against a sudden chill.

Thomas had his rifle raised and his finger poised over the trigger when the bear started toward them. He was just about to fire when the animal suddenly stilled and sat on her haunches. She turned her head as if seeing or hearing something in the trees. After heart pounding moments she simply turned and retreated. He felt weak with relief. He knew gunshots rarely stopped an angry bear. Whatever the reason for the animal's departure, he whispered a prayer of thanksgiving. However, he kept his rifle trained toward the trees. He chanced a quick glance at Amy. With eyes widened in wonder, she said, "Why did the bear just run away, Papa?"

"I'm not sure, but I'll keep watch while you finish washing up."

Long after Amy had gone to sleep in their tent, Thomas sat beside the campfire with his rifle next to him. As a doctor, on more than one occasion, he had treated the victims of bear attacks. He shuddered at the remembrances.

Again he replayed the scene in his mind. The bear had been angry and roaring and intent in her purpose as she started toward them, but then she suddenly became docile. Moments later she disappeared into the trees. The event had been very strange.

Sighing, Thomas bowed his head and again offered a prayer of thankfulness for whatever had distracted the animal and saved their lives. Still, he spent the rest of the night keeping the fire lit and his rifle nearby.

#  9: Encampment

Thomas hoisted himself behind Amy and onto the back of Stanton. His sleepless night was catching up with him. Although it was late afternoon, he didn't want to break for camp just yet. By his calculation, only ten miles remained until they were out of the Superstition Mountains and then maybe twenty to the cut off leading to the Verde River.

Amy wasn't tired and kept up a running conversation about the flora and fauna surrounding them. "Papa, look how tall that cactus is." A minute later. "Oh, Papa, there's a herd of donkeys. See how cute the babies are."

Drowsily, Thomas shifted his gaze and absently said, "They sure are." He let his lids droop. Half asleep, he watched the passing terrain and listened to Amy's chatter.

"Look, Papa, at the Indians coming toward us."

Instantly, Thomas shifted upright and looked in the direction his daughter pointed.

She said, "Maybe they know that nice family we met earlier?"

Thomas certainly hoped so. After having lived at Fort Apache and treating the wounded after skirmishes, he knew how cruel both sides could be. General Crook's strategy of enlisting the aid of Indian scouts for tracking renegade Indians had generated much hatred against white man and the scouts. However, for all their tracking expertise, Chief Geronimo still roamed free.

Thomas' heart quickened as the dust cloud kicked up by the horses came closer. These were Apache braves.

"Papa, we should ask if they know Running Elk."

"Amy, honey, I don't want you to say anything. Let me do all the talking."

"Yes, sir." She must have felt his tension because her little body suddenly stiffened.

Thomas halted Stanton, which stayed Petunia, and waited for the arrival of the braves. The closer they came, the more dread entered his heart. They were young and the young ones always wanted to fight. He wrapped his arms around Amy and pulled her against him.

Three braves halted their horses in front of Stanton. The closest one smirked and said something in his native language while the others began circling Thomas' horse and mule. One of them paused beside Stanton and pulled Thomas' rifle from its scabbard.

Thomas said, "We mean you no harm. We're just passing through."

The Indian who had first spoken said bitterly in English, "You are white man on land stolen from us. You have other gun?"

Thomas knew that if he lied and said no and his pistol was found, things would not go well for him and Amy. He nodded and pointed. "Inside that pouch."

The brave who had relieved him of his rifle, now confiscated his pistol.

Thomas said to the leader, "We're not staying on your land, we're merely passing through. My daughter is ill and I'm taking her to a healing woman."

The revelation of his daughter's illness seemed to have no effect on the brave. He merely jerked his head in the direction the dust cloud still lingered. "You come with us or I kill you and child here. Just like white man kill Indians."

Thomas knew better than to put up any resistance and obediently turned his horse in the way indicated. However, his mind was anything but obedient as he planned an escape on Stanton if it became necessary. His strategy was to cut Petunia's lead with the knife hidden in his boot. Stanton was big and strong and could possibly outrun the braves' smaller mounts.

Sandwiched between the Indians, Thomas followed the leader for perhaps half an hour. He tightened his grip around Amy when he spotted temporary brush shelters in the distance. The closer they came, the more attention they attracted. Women paused in their chores, children stopped playing, and when they entered camp, everyone followed them until they reached a shelter on the far side of the settlement. The brave who had captured Thomas and Amy said something to a boy of about fifteen sitting on the ground outside the shelter. He rose and lifted the blanket over the opening, and entered.

While Thomas waited to meet whoever was inside, he surreptitiously glanced around, searching for an escape route. They were at the edge of the campsite with plenty of brush and juniper trees nearby. If he could make it to the trees with a good head start, maybe they would have a chance.

A middle-aged man exited the shelter, his face weathered by years of war. Thomas immediately recognized him from wanted posters. He was staring into the eyes of Geronimo! He lowered his gaze, but he knew Geronimo had seen the flicker of recognition in his eyes. It was best to speak the truth. In deference to the infamous Apache leader he said, "I am honored to meet Great Chief Geronimo."

Geronimo's expression of disinterest did not change. He made a waving motion and Thomas and Amy were jerked off Stanton. Amy whimpered and when she started to fall Thomas tried to catch her, but he was wrenched backward and held captive by two braves. At first he struggled to free himself, then realized he needed to conserve his energy. Staring unflinchingly into Geronimo's eyes, he said, "My child is ill and needs medical care. I'm headed west to seek help."

A male voice shouted from the crowd, "You lie! I see you before. You are doctor!"

When Thomas saw Geronimo's eyes widen slightly, he knew he had to speak fast. "I do not lie. My daughter has a sickness I cannot treat. I am seeking help from the healing woman who lives in the red rocks."

The angry brave that had captured Thomas unsheathed a large knife strapped to his thigh and waved it in Thomas's face. "Maybe I scalp you and child and leave you to die in desert."

In a loud voice Geronimo commanded, "Enough!"

The brave jerked his gaze to his leader and after a long moment, slowly, but rebelliously, lowered the knife back into its covering.

Geronimo glanced from Amy on the ground to Thomas straining against his captors. In a raspy voice he said, "What am I to do? It would be foolish to let my enemy go. The white man kills my people and you are their medicine man. My thoughts say I should kill you and raise your child as Indian."

Unexpectedly, another voice spoke, "He is also a healer of Indians, Great Chief."

Geronimo scanned the crowd. "Come forward, you who speak for this man."

Relief beyond anything imaginable flooded Thomas when Running Elk stepped to the front. He said something to Geronimo in their native language, but the chief raised his hand to stop him. "Speak English so white man can understand your words."

Running Elk acknowledged the command with a respectful nod and said, "We meet man on trail. He say he is doctor so I ask him to use white man's medicine on Big Bear."

The rebellious brave made a sound of disgust and Running Elk turned toward him. "Big Bear in pain. You do same if you have child."

The brave frowned and said, "You are fool to–"

Geronimo interrupted the argument. "Silence!" He made a motion for Running Elk to continue.

Running Elk gave the brave a look of contempt and then returned his attention to his leader. "Doctor have medicine to make Big Bear better. He give me medicine and tell me to put on boy's leg every day. I do what he say and boy's leg better. He not in pain now. Doctor is good man. Not all white men bad and not all Indians good." He purposefully returned his gaze to the angry brave.

Fury lit the brave's eyes but before he could respond, Geronimo said, "Bring the boy to me."

Running Elk motioned for Big Bear to step forward. Geronimo bent and examined the child's leg. He then stood and faced Thomas. "You heal other Indians?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where?"

"Fort Apache."

"You work for General Crook?"

"No, I worked for the United States Government, but I am not a soldier. I am a doctor for whoever needs me. I am no longer at the Fort. I live in Globe."

The chief of the Apache Nation approached Amy and Thomas strained against his captors. Geronimo leaned down and lifted Amy into his arms. He then walked over, said something in his own language to the braves restraining Thomas, and they released him. The chief handed Amy to Thomas before raising his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. He again spoke in his native tongue."

Hearing the words, the disgruntled brave who had captured Thomas and Amy made another disgusted sound and stomped away.

Geronimo said to Thomas, "You are free to go. May the Great Spirit guide you and heal your child. And may you not reveal the location of my people to your army."

Relief flooded Thomas as he clutched Amy to his chest. "Thank you, Great Chief. I promise to keep your location secret, and I will always remember your kindness and speak well of you before my people."

With the arch of an eyebrow, Geronimo asked, "Even General Crook?"

Thomas recognized the sardonic humor in Geronimo's tone and said with all seriousness, "Even General Crook."

#  10: Lawman

Tana cut pieces of meat into smaller chunks from the hind quarter of a deer Warrior's clan had left for him in her yard. Daily they supplied sustenance for their leader. After he'd eaten she inspected his leg. "You're healing well, Warrior. Soon you'll be back with your pack." The wolf nudged her hand and she patted his head. Suddenly, his ears pricked and she asked, "Is someone coming?" Warrior stared into her eyes. She gave him another pat. "I'll go see who it is."

Standing in the clearing outside her barn she waited for a new arrival. Several minutes later a man on horseback moved beyond the pine, fir, and oak trees surrounding her home. He saw her and reined his horse in her direction. When he came close, he tipped his hat and said, "Mornin' ma'am."

Tana silently watched him.

He dismounted and removed his hat. "I'm U.S. Deputy Marshall Wyatt Earp and I'm tracking a man named Ike Clanton on charges of attempted murder. You seen any strangers on your property lately?"

Normally, Tana avoided speaking to anyone but the Indians, but since this man was a lawman, she said, "No. I haven't."

He glanced beyond her to the entrance of her barn. "You mind if I check your barn? Outlaws sometimes hide in them."

She motioned him forward. "No. I don't mind. But you do so at your own risk."

The marshal had started forward but he paused and gave her a questioning look. "Now what am I supposed to make of that?"

"Whatever you like."

"You got family?"

She remained silent.

Apparently concerned by their conversation he pulled his revolver from its holster, held it to his side, and slowly approached until he was face-to-face with her. She stepped aside and he continued to the barn.

Following him in, she heard him say, "What the hell! How many critters you got in here?" A moment later. "Is this a hospital for animals?" And then, "Oh, goddamn!"

He had reached Warrior's stall.

Slowly, he started backing away as the wolf's ferocious growls and snarls became louder. Although still in a splint, Warrior was standing and clearly able to attack.

Tana said, "I warned you."

While the lawman backed out of the barn, she stepped into Warrior's stall, bent and whispered, "Everything's good my friend."

The wolf nudged and licked her hand. She rubbed his back, sighed, and returned outside. Marshall Earp was standing beside his horse scratching his head. "Whatever you got going on in there is just about the strangest thing I've ever seen."

She just stared at him.

"Not one much for talk, are you," he stated.

She didn't respond.

He shook his head and turned to mount his horse. Tipping his hat, he said, "Ma'am, if any strangers come around, you best be careful." He grinned, "'Course with that passel of animals, maybe the stranger best be careful of you. G'day to ya."

#  11: German Miner

The evening after the Indian encounter, Thomas and Amy were finally out of the Superstition Mountains. Having slept little for two days because of nightly vigils—the first night because of the bear and the second because of his distrust of the Indian brave—Thomas could barely keep his eyes open. He feared for his daughter's safety more than his own. A cunning adversary knew that harming the loved one of an enemy was more potent than harming the person hated. He only hoped that having reached the Salt River Valley he was now far enough away to avoid trouble.

Amy pointed and said, "Papa, there's someone in front of us."

Thomas jerked his head upright. As they came closer he realized their fellow traveler was an old miner whose mule was giving him trouble. The sour-faced man released a litany of foul language every time he tugged on the mule's rope and the animal stubbornly refused to budge. Apprehensively, he kept glancing at Thomas and Amy as they approached.

Being from Globe, a mining town, Thomas had often treated miners and he knew how cantankerous and suspicious they could be. Several yards out, he halted Stanton and called, "Sir would you like some assistance?"

Walking to the flank of his mule, the miner shuffled his feet, studied Thomas and Amy, and finally said, "If you want to shoot and gut this pile of bones and eat her for supper, I'll not stop you."

Thomas smiled at the disgruntled man who spoke with a German accent. The mule stepped backwards and brayed.

Thomas laughed. "I guess your threat of turning her into supper didn't sit well with her."

The dirt-caked man scratched his unkempt gray beard and replied, "Never does. I've threatened her with every imaginable torture and she's still just as stubborn." He spat on the ground and asked, "You prospecting for gold?"

"Not hardly. We're on our way to Fort Verde and then the red rocks. My name is Dr. Thomas Matthews and this is my daughter, Amy. We make our home in Globe."

The old man nodded, pulled on a bushy eyebrow the same color as his beard, and said, Guess you'll have to go around us because Sadie isn't moving 'til morning."

Thomas had noticed the miner favoring his left arm and asked, "Did you injure your arm? You seem to be in pain."

The man spat on the ground again, pulled on his eyebrow again, and said, "That ornery mule kicked me about an hour ago."

"Well, sir, since I'm a doctor, would you like me to check your arm to make sure it isn't broken?"

The old-timer frowned and looked down, kicked up some dirt, and then looked up again. "Yes, I guess. And by the way, my name is Jacob Waltz."

Thomas dismounted, lifted Amy to the ground, and looped Stanton's reins around a small creosote bush. "Pleasure, Mr. Waltz." He started forward holding Amy's hand and chuckled. "I think your mule gives new meaning to the word stubborn."

"You got that right. If I had any smarts, I'd sell her and buy a less ornery beast, but she and me been together for ten years, so I guess that counts for something."

Throughout the conversation, Amy had remained silent. Now she said, "Howdy, Mr. Waltz. Have you found a lot of gold?"

Suspicion flashed across the miner's face and Thomas wanted to groan. Asking a man about his gold was not wise. Quickly, he said, "Amy, that's not a question you ask miners. It's their personal business."

Amy immediately lifted her hand to her mouth and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Waltz." Since Thomas rarely chastised his daughter, she looked like she was about to cry. Later, he would explain the wariness of men like Mr. Waltz and why such questions should be avoided.

Her sorrowful expression, however, must have satisfied the miner, because he replied, "Nope. Haven't found much at all."

Thomas had a gut feeling the man was lying, but he really didn't care one way or another. "Mr. Waltz, if you'll sit on that rock, I'll check your arm."

Obviously, Mr. Waltz liked to spit, and he again sent a stream into the dust. Then he gave a curt nod and walked to the rock Thomas indicated.

Thomas smiled at his daughter and motioned to another rock. He didn't want to take a chance of her falling down. "Honey, you sit there while I take care of Mr. Waltz." He then covered the ten feet separating him and his new patient. First, he gently felt for broken bones and the miner barely winced, but when he probed his shoulder, the man gasped. Thomas lowered his hands and said, "It looks like your mule dislocated your shoulder, Mr. Waltz."

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," the old man grunted. "I kind of thought that myself. Damn!"

"I can relocate it, but it will hurt."

Mr. Waltz rubbed the back of his neck with his good hand. "What choice do I have?" He answered his own question. "None." Projecting another stream of spittle onto a prickly pear cactus, he said, "Go ahead, Doc. Do what you have to."

Thomas nodded, circled his patient until he was standing behind him, and placed his hands on the injured shoulder. Suddenly, Thomas exclaimed, "Heavens, would you look at that gold nugget!"

Mr. Waltz shouted, "Where?"

With a quick jerk, Thomas snapped his shoulder back in place. The miner yelped, but his pain was overridden by his search for the nugget. Then he understood. "Damn, but you're a fine doctor. I hardly felt the pain I was so distracted."

"That was my intention, sir."

Mr. Waltz rotated his shoulder a few times, winced a little, and said, "Hell, it's as good as new."

Thomas started back toward Amy so they could continue their journey, but Mr. Waltz said, "Since Sadie won't budge, I'll be camping here. You're welcome to join me if you want. I killed a rabbit and I'd be pleased to share the roasted meat."

Glancing at the setting sun, Thomas knew he and Amy wouldn't get far before having to set up camp. And the promise of roasted rabbit made his mouth water. He cocked an eyebrow at Amy and when she nodded, he replied, "That'd be right nice, Mr. Waltz. Thanks for the invitation."

After subsisting mostly on a diet of jerky, dried fruit, cured bacon, hardtack, and an occasional rabbit Thomas was able to shoot, the roasted meat was a feast. Amy fell asleep after supper and Thomas leaned back against a boulder, stretched his legs, and sipped coffee from a tin cup. Mr. Waltz offered his flask to Thomas.

"I think the coffee will do me fine, sir. I've never been much of a drinking man."

The scraggly miner shrugged and lifted the flask to his mouth. After a gulp he belched and said, "Ahh." Another gulp and he said, "I got this brew from a moonshiner living outside of Phoenix. Best whiskey I ever tasted. Makes that stuff they sell in saloons weak enough for a baby. You sure you don't want a nip."

"Thanks, but I'm sure."

Mr. Waltz imbibed generously of his whiskey while they made small talk. Soon he let his guard down and said, "I got a farm outside of Phoenix, but I like to prospect, too. I've been coming to the Superstition Mountains for at least a dozen years."

Thomas stretched his long legs and listened.

Mr. Waltz continued, "You're a fine man, Doc, and I think we should be on a first name basis. You call me Jacob and I'll call you Tom." His words were slurred.

Inwardly, Thomas chuckled. Jacob was two-sheets-to-the-wind. He replied, "Sounds fine to me, Jacob."

After a few minutes, Jacob pointed upward. "You see that dark pinnacle against the sky?"

Thomas followed the line of Jacob's arm. "I do."

"Well, that's called Weaver's Needle. It's named after a prospector and guide from the early part of the century."

Thomas wasn't sure where Jacob was going with the conversation, so he just acknowledged him by saying, "Hmm."

Jacob lifted his flask again. After a swallow, he grinned and slurred, "Weaver's Needle has sure been good to me." Then he winked. "Before I die, I think I'll draw a map pinpointing the mother lode." As if realizing he had said too much, he clarified, "That's just between you and me, Tom."

"I understand and I'm good at keeping secrets." Thomas wanted to change the subject. "From your accent, I take it you're of German descent. Did you emigrate from Germany?"

Jacob's eyes were dull from too much drink. "I did. But everyone calls me The Dutchman." He didn't elaborate as to why that was so, and just as Thomas was about to ask, Jacob's head slumped and he started to snore. The "Dutchman" was quite a character, as were all the miners Thomas had encountered over the years.

Finally, after two days of little sleep, Thomas curled up next to Amy in a protective gesture and closed his eyes.

#  12: Following the Salt River

The sound of a mule braying woke Thomas. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. Amy was already awake and warming herself beside the fire Jacob had started. The miner glanced at Thomas, screwed up his face, and said, "Sadie bellows like that every morning when she's ready to hit the trail."

Sadie brayed again and Jacob rolled his eyes. "Tom, Amy, I'll be on my way after this coffee boils."

Thomas was amazed that the old man didn't show any signs of a hangover. He said, "I've got some cured bacon to fry up. Stick around for breakfast."

"Thanks, Tom, but my time is short. I'm headed back to my farm to do some planting. I got plenty of jerky and hardtack in my saddlebag and–"

Sadie lifted her head and split the air with another wail.

Jacob jerked his head around to glare at her and yelled, "You do that again and I'll gut and skin you and make a blanket out of you, you ornery old jackass."

Mule and man stared at each other and Sadie must have taken Jacob's words to heart because she lowered her head and started munching on desert grass.

Amy said, "Mr. Waltz, the coffee is boiling."

Jacob grabbed a rag to lift the pot and pour the steaming brew into his canteen. He screwed on the lid and walked toward Sadie.

Thomas followed and watched him stuff his canteen into a saddlebag hanging beside a gold pan dangling off Sadie's flank. He offered his hand in a friendly goodbye. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Jacob. How's the shoulder feeling? You don't seem to be favoring it today."

"The shoulder feels great. Not bothering me at all. And likewise, Tom, I've enjoyed keeping company with you and Amy. Maybe we'll cross paths again someday."

"That would be nice, Jacob. Good luck to you."

Jacob smiled and winked, "Yep. Luck is the right word and I'll admit I've had my fair share these past few years." Grabbing the lead to his mule, he nodded a final farewell, waved at Amy, and started down the trail. After a few steps he belted out a German song and Thomas smiled before turning around.

Amy said, "Papa, my eyes are getting blurry again."

Thomas rushed to his daughter and gave her a quick perusal before grabbing his medical bag beside his bedroll. As usual, an examination revealed no reason for her blurred vision. He said, "Darlin', let me know if it gets worse. Would you like to chew on some jerky until I get the bacon fried up?"

"No. I'll wait." She hesitated and then asked, "Papa, am I going blind?"

Thomas sucked a breath. "No, you're not. And I don't want you thinking like that."

Even though the words sounded confident for Amy's sake, this latest incident made Thomas anxious to get back on the trail. The way he figured it, barring any delays, they could reach the Verde River in about four or five days. From there, they would turn northward and follow the river for about a week before reaching Fort Verde. After resting at the Fort they would begin the final leg of their journey to the red rocks. Thomas released a long sigh. Whoever this healing woman was, he hoped she could help Amy.

For the next four days Thomas pushed himself to travel about fifteen miles a day and they reached the Verde River late in the afternoon. Setting up camp early, he settled Amy on a blanket beside the fire and she watched him roast the rabbit he'd shot. As he turned the spit, she said "Sometimes I think it's sad that we kill animals to eat. Does it make you sad, too, Papa?"

Thomas studied the roasting meat and thought about his response. Finally, he said, "Because I've dedicated my life to helping the sick and injured, and sometimes that includes animals, it does make me sad. But that seems to be the way of survival. The Indians have hunted buffalo for hundreds of years because the meat nourishes them, the hides protect them, and the bones are made into tools. They use every part of the buffalo for survival. I guess my response would be that killing an animal for sport and leaving the carcass, is wrong. But if it's done for survival, it's allowed. A big difference between some white men and Indians is that the Indians don't take the animals for granted."

Amy frowned. "I wish I understood things better. I have so many questions."

Thomas turned the spit again and lifted his eyes to a sunset as orange as the flames in the fire. "And I wish I could answer those questions, honey, but I'm full of questions myself."

"Maybe when we join Mama in heaven, she'll know the answers."

A lump formed in Thomas' throat and he said softly, "I think she will."

#  13: Meeting the General

Unfolding and lowering his map to the ground, Thomas traced his route with his finger. It had been six days since they'd changed their course northward to follow the Verde River and now posted markings along the trail indicated they would reach Fort Verde before sunset. Thomas was bone tired and paused at a riverbank offering easy access to the water. Washing the dust off was just what they needed to refresh body and spirit.

During the past week Amy's spells had increased. She was also having difficulty clenching her hands. Her muscle function was deteriorating rapidly, just as her mother's had. Panic became Thomas' constant companion and even though he prayed the healing woman could help, he often found himself berating his decision to travel so far with his child. One question haunted him—would her condition have progressed less slowly if she hadn't been subjected to this arduous journey? Of course there was no answer to that question.

After washing, he and Amy lay side-by-side on the bank staring at a cloudless sky through the cottonwood trees hugging the water. The sound of approaching horses had Thomas jumping to his feet. He whispered and motioned for Amy to hide behind a nearby tree while he pulled his rifle from its scabbard. Hastening for the cover of another tree, he peered around it, holding his rifle in position. A moment later, the source of the pounding hooves rounded a bend. It was a cavalry troop led by a man Thomas easily recognized, General George R. Crook. The famous military man yelled for his men to halt when he saw Thomas' horse and mule.

Thomas lowered his rifle and stepped from behind the tree. General Crook smiled. "Doctor Matthews, what in the name of god are you doing way out here? I thought you relocated to Globe."

Thomas returned the imposing man's smile. The General wasn't called Nantan Lupan, or Gray Chief by the Indians for no reason. His full beard, streaked with gray that matched his gray eyes, fulfilled the "gray" part of his Indian name, and the "chief" part was obvious. Although his age appeared to be somewhere between fifty and sixty, he was still tall, broad-shouldered, and fearless. Thomas, having been the civilian doctor at Fort Apache, knew the General was well-respected by his men and the Apache Scouts he so ingeniously enlisted to track renegade Indians. He was not a man to shirk hardship and lived, traveled, and fought in the same pitiful conditions as his soldiers.

The General dismounted, handed the reins of his horse to his Sergeant, and walked the short distance to shake hands with Thomas. Thomas said, "I still make my home in Globe."

General Crook nodded toward the tree Amy was peeking around. "And is that Amy behind a tree?"

Thomas laughed and motioned his daughter forward. "Amy, come on over and greet General Crook. Do you remember him?"

Amy smiled and walked forward, but halfway to them her legs went weak and she fell down. Thomas and General Crook both ran toward her. Thomas lifted her into his arms, met the General's gaze over the top of Amy's head, and silently conveyed his concern. General Crook did not press him for an explanation.

Amy said, "I remember you General Crook. You always had a piece of candy in your pocket."

The General laughed, reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper-wrapped hard candy. "I never go anywhere without them because I never know when I'll meet a little girl with a sweet tooth." He handed the candy to Amy and she grinned widely. "Thank you, sir."

Thomas sat Amy on a rock beside the river. "Enjoy your treat, honey, while the General and I talk."

"I will, Papa."

Thomas walked far enough away so Amy couldn't overhear their conversation. He said, "My wife died of a strange illness after we moved to Globe and Amy's showing the same symptoms. It's a disease that destroys muscle function."

General Crook laid his hand on Thomas' shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Tom." He frowned and said, "But that doesn't explain why you're out here in the middle of nowhere."

Thomas met the General's gray eyes. "This may sound crazy, but I overheard a conversation by two drifters about a woman living in the red rocks who is known for her healing ability. It's a long shot, but I have to take Amy to her. I did everything I could to save Ruth, but nothing helped. I don't want history to repeat itself, General."

General Crook nodded. "I understand, Tom." He pulled on his beard. "Seems I recollect hearing something about her, myself. But I don't remember the particulars. How are you going to find her?"

"The drifters gave me good directions. My plan is to rest at Fort Verde and then head out again. If the directions are accurate, it shouldn't take more than two or three days to find her. What happens after that, only providence knows."

General Crook pulled on his beard again. "As you can see, we're on our way to Fort Verde now. You can travel with us. When you leave for the red rocks, I'll send a soldier with you for protection. These wars won't cease until Geronimo is captured and the Indians are on their reservation."

At the mention of Geronimo's name, Thomas kept his expression impassive. He wanted the wars to cease, of course, but he'd be damned if he broke his promise to the Great Chief to keep his whereabouts secret.

General Crook didn't appear to notice anything out of the ordinary and slapped Thomas on the shoulder once again. "Do you think you can be ready to leave in the next ten minutes?"

"Yes, sir. We'll be ready."

#  14: Clues

Every night for the past week Tana's grandmother had spoken to her in dreams, and every dream brought more bewilderment. Each new phrase was preceded by, "He's coming..."

"...and he's not alone."

"...and he will challenge your knowledge."

"...and sickness isn't your only adversary."

And the most puzzling, "...and the eagle must follow you."

Tana knew her grandmother was giving her clues about a future event involving the man who would someday come to her.

The sound of hooves from a lone horse interrupted her musings and she opened her door to watch an approaching rider. A weather-beaten, middle-aged cowboy halted several feet from her cabin and she stepped onto the porch. The drifter was dusty and haggard looking, like he'd been on the trail for a long time. Tana stared into the eyes of his horse and then shifted her gaze back to him. She waited for him to speak.

"Could you spare some food, ma'am? I've been on the trail for days."

She lifted a finger indicating she needed a moment and reentered her cabin. Retrieving one of the baskets she'd woven, she filled it with bread, dried vegetables and fruits, smoked fish, and jerky made from animals she had treated, but that had not survived. She also added a jar of pickled okra. Returning to her porch, she saw that the man had dismounted and was watering his horse at her trough. He glanced up and his expression was blank. However, there was something in his eyes that revealed violence was either part of him or had been forced upon him.

Tana stepped off the porch and walked a few steps to set the basket on the ground. The drifter watched her every movement and asked, "You got a voice, lady?"

She pointed toward the basket and then made a shooing motion, indicating he should take the food and leave.

The cowboy frowned and asked, "Has a U.S. Marshall come to your place recently? I was deputized in Tombstone and I'm trying to catch up with him."

Tana's gut kicked and she knew he was lying. Again, she pointed to the basket and made a shooing motion.

The cowboy narrowed his eyes and said, "Thank you for the food, ma'am, but I got no intention of leavin' just yet. I'm gonna stretch out in your barn and rest my weary bones."

Tana smiled slightly, shifted her gaze to the barn, and waited for the lying cowboy to turn around. His eyes narrowed as he slowly turned to see what had attracted her attention. Warrior, now able to walk in his splint, blocked the entrance to the barn. With teeth bared, a low snarl shattered the silence and the cowboy inhaled on a curse. But Warrior wasn't the only reason for his palpable fear. On one side of the barn Warrior's pack held the same stance as their leader.

When the loner slipped his hand toward his holstered gun, the pack growled and stepped closer. The cowboy hastened a glance back at Tana, who again pointed toward the basket and made a waving motion.

The man rasped, "Are you telling me that if I leave with the food they'll not harm me."

Tana nodded once.

Slowly, the stranger edged toward the basket, lifted it, and backed toward his horse that was unperturbed by the wolves.

Tana again made eye contact with the horse. In a rare vocalization with a stranger she said, "You're driving your horse too hard. He wants to rest in that alcove by the river."

The horse neighed in agreement and the cowboy's eyes widened in surprise. Quickly, he mounted his gelding, but before galloping away, met her gaze again and said, "You're a damn witch."

Tana watched until the drifter was out of sight and then turned to the wolves. "Thank you my friends." The pack retreated into the trees and Warrior retreated back inside the barn.

#  15: Tracking Indians

Thomas and Amy, traveling with General Crook's cavalry, reached Fort Verde at sunset. Thomas knew the fort had been in operation since the early 1870s, so it was well established and stocked with supplies. There were several outbuildings, including storehouses, commissary, guardhouse, barracks, officers' quarters, married officers' quarters, surgeon's quarters, and commanding officer's quarters.

When General Crook introduced Thomas and Amy to the commanding officer, Captain William Wallace, the captain ordered his striker to prepare the quest bedroom. The striker was very welcoming to Thomas and Amy and hastened to obey, asking if they had any special dietary or other requests. Of course they had none. Thomas stifled a grin. After having lived at Fort Apache, he knew a striker received better pay and living quarters and would gladly do whatever was necessary to keep the commanding officer happy.

Thomas also knew that because General Crook was now the highest ranking officer at the fort, Captain Wallace was obligated to vacate the commander's quarters in favor of the general. However, General Crook insisted he would stay in the officers' quarters. Thomas wasn't surprised. The military man was known for generating goodwill among his subordinates.

Thomas was relieved when the Chaplain's wife took Amy under her wing and within the hour his daughter was bathed, fed, and tucked into bed. Not long afterward, supper was served in the Commander's dining room and Thomas joined Captain Wallace, General Crook, Chaplain and Mrs. Jones, and Lieutenant and Mrs. Johnson. The conversation encompassed such generalities as the weather, renovations being made at the fort, novels recently read, and even the latest fad in ladies' hats. However, after supper, the chaplain and his wife excused themselves for the evening and offered to walk Mrs. Johnson back to the married officers' quarters. Thomas retired to the sitting room with General Crook, Captain Wallace, and Lieutenant Johnson to enjoy cigars and brandy. Lounging in overstuffed chairs, the military men spoke in earnest about the current Indian uprising. Thomas sipped his brandy and leaned against the fireplace listening to the ongoing debate about the best plan for keeping the Indians on their reservations.

General Crook, who did not smoke or drink, said, "Until the government upholds their promises there will be continued attacks by renegades."

The Lieutenant smirked, "Unless we can find and eliminate them."

Thomas found the officer's remark repugnant and obviously General Crook did too. He responded by saying, "That's not the answer. The answer is to find Geronimo."

The officer said, "I agree. Once he's dead, the Indians won't have a leader."

General Crook shook his head. "I wasn't referring to killing him. There's been enough bloodshed. The government needs to meet with him and agree to the responsible treatment of his people. Perhaps you've been in the field too long, Lieutenant. It often leads to bloodlust."

The chastised officer straightened his shoulders in an act of defiance and Captain Wallace avoided a verbal battle by changing the subject. However, within minutes the conversation again shifted to Geronimo. Thomas interjected, "I agree with General Crook. The government needs to fulfill its treaties and respect Geronimo as the leader of his nation. After all, this was their land."

Lieutenant Johnson furrowed his brow and Thomas could see a debate in the making. He decided it was time to make his exit and was about to say a polite goodnight when there was a knock on the door. Captain Wallace excused himself and left the sitting room."

Thomas heard the door open and a soldier say, "Sergeant Milo Henderson, sir. A scout just rode in and said Geronimo has been spotted near the Superstition Mountains."

The Captain said, "Wait here, Sergeant." He returned to the sitting room and said to General Crook. "I take it you heard that."

The general nodded.

Captain Wallace asked, "Sir, is it your order to pursue?"

General Crook pursed his lips, nodded again, and said, "It is. Gather all the men, except those needed to protect the fort. I want to leave at sunrise. Also, we need to speak with the scout."

Captain Wallace replied, "Yes, sir."

General Crook glanced at Lieutenant Johnson. "You will remain at the fort to oversee operations."

The Lieutenant's eyes rounded in disbelief. "Sir, that doesn't make sense."

Captain Wallace frowned. "Lieutenant, you are speaking to General Crook. I expect an immediate apology."

Lieutenant Johnson again straightened his shoulders in a rebellious gesture and said, "I apologize, sir."

General Crook gave a curt nod. "Apology accepted." He left the room followed by Captain Wallace.

Thomas was left in the sitting room with an angry Lieutenant. The man clenched and unclenched his hands and said, "You can see how irresponsible those orders are, can you not? I've devoted my life to the military and keeping decent folk safe from redskins."

Thomas sighed, shook his head, and replied, "And I have devoted my life to caring for the infirmed, both white and red. You, sir, are part of the problem." Setting his brandy snifter on the mantle he gladly walked past the enraged officer and exited the room. He had to pass by the dining room while returning to the guest bedroom and he heard the General and Captain talking. General Crook glanced up and motioned him in and extended his hand for a shake. "Thomas, looks like this is goodbye. It was good seeing you again."

Thomas clasped the General's hand. "You too, sir."

The General said matter-of-factly, "About that escort to the red rocks...the fort is already short-handed and we need every man available. Looks like–"

Thomas lifted a hand. "I understand, sir. No need to apologize."

General Crook slapped Thomas on the back and said, "The Captain assures me there hasn't been any trouble north of here for months."

Thomas smiled. "I appreciate your concern, General, but you have more important things to consider at the moment."

General Crook acknowledged the truth of that with a curt nod before exiting the house with Captain Wallace.

#  16: Castle in the Sky and Mysterious Water from the Earth

At daylight Thomas stood on the porch of the Commander's quarters and watched General Crook lead a regiment of cavalry on yet another quest to capture the illusive Geronimo. Sighing, he returned indoors to check on Amy. She was sleeping peacefully and he made the decision to rest the remainder of the day at the fort.

Shortly after dawn the next day they continued onward. The previous evening Thomas had reviewed his map with the quartermaster for the best route, and now he and Amy set out for Beaver Creek. Soon they were following the creek and enjoying the antics of diligent beavers intent on the business of building. Amy often paused, pointed, and laughed.

Thomas lifted his eyes to the cerulean sky and breathed a prayer that his daughter's laughter would continue throughout a long and happy life.

Before sunset they came upon a site so magnificent they both paused with gaping mouths. Amy had spotted the ruins first and pointed. "Papa, look! There's a palace up in the rocks."

Thomas looked in the direction she indicated and gasped, "Amy, I've never seen anything like it!"

They hastened along the trail that followed the creek and then Thomas lifted Amy off Stanton, holding her hand as they could cut across terrain shaded by tall sycamores and ponderosa pines. Soon they were standing beneath a cliff wall and staring up at ruins built into a deep recess. The stone and clay dwelling was so high they had to crane their necks for the best view.

A chuckle from behind startled them. Thomas whipped around to see a man in his late thirties or early forties smiling broadly as he approached. The gentleman moved his gaze from Thomas and Amy to the palace in the sky. He said, "Those ruins are called Montezuma's Castle, although I suspect Montezuma had nothing to do with them and neither are they a castle. I think the pioneers passing this way wanted to choose the most magnanimous description they could, so they came up with that name." The stranger returned his gaze to Thomas and stuck out his hand. "My name is George Rothrock and I'm a photographer." He pointed to a clearing and Thomas saw a camera set on a tripod.

Thomas shook the man's hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Rothrock. I'm Dr. Thomas Matthews and this is my daughter, Amy."

Mr. Rothrock's smile was amiable as he said, "Please call me George. Do you prefer to be called Dr. Matthews or is your given name acceptable?"

"Call me Thomas or Tom."

George knelt in front of Amy. "And would you like me to call you Miss Matthews or Amy?"

Amy giggled and said shyly, "You can call me Amy."

"Then Amy, it is."

He stood and asked, "Where are ya'll headed?"

"Our destination is the red rocks."

George smiled again. "Been there many times to take photos. As far as I'm concerned, it's the most beautiful place on earth." He made a waving motion, "My camp is set up beyond that clearing. You're welcome to join me if you like."

Thomas had been assessing Mr. Rothrock's countenance and actions and could see no obvious reason to distrust him. "Now that's very kind of you, sir. Perhaps we will. I left my horse and mule at the creek to drink. It'll only take a minute to retrieve them and then you can lead the way."

Walking back to their animals, Amy talked nonstop about the castle and how she couldn't believe anyone could build something so high off the ground. "Do you think they used magic, Papa?"

He laughed, "Little darlin', I don't think magic had anything to do with it. I think the builders were just incredibly intelligent and strong." He watched his daughter's expression turn to one of disappointment and tweaked her braid. "However," he continued, "I'm not ruling out the possibility of magic. Maybe the prince of the forest commanded the fairies to build him a castle in the sky."

Amy's eyes sparkled. "Yes, and he built it for his princess."

Not long after setting up camp with George, the friendly man retrieved a large leather album and proudly opened it to tintypes for Thomas and Amy to view. Although Thomas had little knowledge of photography, something he actually considered as "magical" as building adobe structures inside a cliff wall, he recognized the man had genuine talent for freezing a moment in time. George showed them tintypes he had taken on previous visits to Montezuma's Castle, as well as those he had taken in the past two days. He pointed to different photos and explained how sunlight was instrumental in capturing different moods. He then turned the page of the album to another tintype of what appeared to be a huge sinkhole and chuckled, "Now this water hole is called Montezuma's Well and it's not far from here. In fact, I'm headed there tomorrow and since we're traveling in the same direction, we can travel together."

Amy's eyes rounded and she asked, "Did the people who lived in the castle go there for water?"

George turned the page to another tintype of the sinkhole. "I believe they traveled there, but I don't know if the water was drinkable because I've heard that no fish swim there. It was definitely used for irrigating crops, though. And like here, there are ancient dwellings in the cliffs surrounding the water pit. They're not as elaborate or elevated as Montezuma's Castle, but still incredible."

Amy leaned over and studied the picture while George continued. "And there's this path that leads down to the water where there's a cave. But the place you just have to see is on the backside of the cliff with the cave. It's positively magical. It's where the water from the sinkhole escapes beneath the cave and pours into an irrigation ditch on the other side. The ditch was dug by Indians long ago." He sighed. "When I'm there it's almost as if I can see and hear the ancient ones going about their daily chores." He looked slightly embarrassed. "I guess I should admit to having an overactive imagination."

Amy said, "Oh no, Mr. Rothrock, I want to hear more. I can't wait to go there."

Thomas listened to the easy conversation between Amy and George. George was an encyclopedia of information and soon Thomas was just as fascinated as Amy.

George reached for another album. He flipped through the pages until he found what he wanted. "Aha. Here's a photo of some of the monumental rock formations you'll encounter when you reach the red rocks. He handed the album to Thomas. Thomas glanced from the picture to George. "This is amazing! I've never seen such huge stones."

George chuckled, "I only wish the photo was in color so you could appreciate just how red everything is. Perhaps someday cameras will capture pictures in every shade of the spectrum. I can only hope it happens in my lifetime." He pointed toward the tintype and sighed. "And the colors are not only red, but orange, brown, yellow, purple, a veritable rainbow depending on the time of day." Thomas handed the album to Amy and George asked her to turn the page. "I believe this is my best photo thus far. I took it just as the sun was setting. Everything, even the air, shimmered with golden orange light."

Amy's eyes glowed as she studied the monument carved by nature. She said, "It looks like a bell."

Thomas scooted closer to his daughter and whistled low. "That's the landmark we're supposed to follow, and as big as it is, I don't think we'll have trouble locating it."

Amy said, "Are you going to the red rocks, too, Mr. Rothrock?"

George smiled affectionately at Amy. "No, little one. I'm headed to Flagstaff to take pictures of a family who commission me. Then it's back to my photography studio in Phoenix."

Amy looked disappointed. Thomas also felt disappointment. He genuinely liked George and his intelligent and interesting conversations.

George said, "Now, I want to show you another incredible sight. He retrieved yet a third binder and opened it. "This is the Grand Canyon, my friends. Something you'll definitely want to see in your lifetime." He set the album in Amy's lap.

Thomas and Amy turned page after page and glanced from the tintypes to each other with widened eyes.

George said, "That's the reaction I always get."

Incapable of finding words to describe the vastness of the canyon, Thomas shook his head. He had heard about the Grand Canyon many times, but these photos now made the descriptions by others pitiable by contrast.

The remainder of the day was enjoyable as George told stories and showed more of his wonderful pictures. The next morning everyone rose at sunrise and prepared a quick meal. Afterward, Thomas helped George load his camera equipment onto his mule and together the threesome headed for Montezuma's Well.

In the late afternoon they arrived at a rocky trail leading up a tall hill and George called over his shoulder, "We're almost there."

Thomas glanced around and scanned the desert shrub and cacti covering the hill. There was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. George waited for them at the crest. Thomas guided his horse with Amy in the saddle, and his mule tied to a lead, until they were beside George. The view was anything but ordinary. Amy pointed, "Look, Papa! Look! It's just like the picture."

Thomas took a step closer to the edge and marveled at the murky water about seventy-five feet down from where they stood. The almost perfectly round sink hole had to be over three hundred feet wide. It was much larger than he had expected. Debris and broken branches overgrown by green muck had shifted to one side of the water and made for a truly eerie scene. He lifted his gaze to the cliff walls surrounding the sinkhole and spotted first one adobe dwelling, and then another, built into large crevices. Thomas grinned at his daughter. "What do you think, honey?"

"It's wonderful, Papa. I wish I could walk into their houses."

Thomas glanced from the surface of the water, up the cliff face to the dwellings, and then to the ridge above. He decided the inhabitants must have had the climbing ability of goats to reach their homes.

George pointed to the closest dwelling. "The first time I came here a couple of cowboys dropped ropes from the ridge and lowered themselves down. After they climbed back up they said the only items inside the ruins were broken pottery and decaying sandals. I suspect they were hoping to find a treasure of gold."

At the mention of gold, Thomas thought of Jacob Waltz, the miner he and Amy had met at the base of the Superstition Mountains. He chuckled to himself. He had no doubt Jacob would have been the first to inch down a rope looking for gold.

George said, "Come this way. There's a trail leading to the bottom. We can leave our animals tied here."

Thomas said, "I don't know if Amy is up to it."

George gazed curiously at her. Thomas hadn't informed George about his daughter's illness.

Amy said, "Oh, Papa, we must go. I feel strong today."

One look into Amy's pleading eyes and Thomas knew he wouldn't deny her. "If you feel weak in any way, you let me know so I can carry you. Promise?"

She crossed her heart and said, "I promise."

Rather than explain anything to George, Thomas secured his animals to a juniper tree twisted into a ghostly shape by the wind, and lifted his daughter from Stanton. He said, "Lead the way, sir."

The trek to the bottom didn't take more than fifteen minutes and ended at the entrance to a large cave.

Thomas said, "I imagine this cave would have housed three or four families. Or maybe they used it for storage."

Amy, who was resting on a rock, pointed. "Look, Papa, there's Mr. Rothrock's name on that big rock."

George grinned and said proudly, "I wrote it during a visit in 1878. Now I'm part of the history of Montezuma's Well." He made a waving motion toward a small stream flowing from the sink hole and disappearing under the cave. "The water goes underground and comes out on the other side of the cliff. That's where I want to take you next."

Thomas studied Amy for signs of exhaustion.

"Papa, can we go there? I still feel good."

Thomas nodded but said, "Only if I carry you part of the way." He reached to lift his daughter.

George said, "I believe I may have missed something in our conversations, is Amy ill?"

Before Thomas could speak, Amy said, "Sometimes I have spells and fall down or I can't see good. We're going to the red rocks so the healing woman can make me well."

George frowned in confusion.

Thomas explained, "Modern medicine hasn't been able to help Amy and I heard about a woman who has the ability to heal..." his words trailed because he had no idea how to finish the sentence.

George said, "Now that I recollect, during one of my expeditions there I heard some old-timers talking about her. They said she lives alone except for the animals that come to her for help."

Thomas was taken aback. "The animals come to her?"

"That's what they said. I wish I'd paid more attention, but I was just passing through and figured they were talking crazy. Years of gold prospecting does that to miners."

Thomas decided to change the subject because he didn't want Amy to feel discouraged. "George, lead the way to the backside of the cliff."

"Gladly, sir. And if you need me to carry Amy, don't hesitate to ask."

Retracing their steps back to the rim of the cliff, George continued along the top. He called behind him, "It only takes a minute to reach the other trail."

Amy said, "I can walk Papa."

He set her down. "Just hold my hand, sweetie."

Veering into some foliage they came to a different path and it was like entering another world. The terrain became less desert-like as they followed a stairway of stones downward. Within minutes they were on the opposite side of the sinkhole under a canopy of cottonwood and pine trees interspersed with ferns. Water flowed from beneath the cliff wall separating them from Montezuma's Well on the other side, and entered a narrow ditch.

George said, "This is the irrigation canal dug by the Indians." He made an encompassing motion. "Isn't it beautiful here and just like I told you—a magical place?"

Amy said reverently, "It is."

Thomas felt the same reverence for such beauty. Under the living canopy of trees a profusion of vines and ferns flourished. He had never thought of a place as being mystical or magical, but this tiny secluded forest certainly was.

#  17: Almost There

Thomas and Amy again camped with George but they parted ways the next morning. It had been too late the previous day for George to photograph Montezuma's Well, so he intended to stay another day or so before heading toward Flagstaff. Thomas shook his new friend's hand in farewell and bid him much success with his photography business.

George humbly shrugged. "Thank you, Thomas, but the competition grows daily." He chuckled. "If I'm not successful in this lifetime, maybe in years to come my photos will have value for documenting the history of Arizona. Who knows, perhaps the territory will eventually become a state in the Union." He shrugged again and turned to Amy. "Amy, dearest, you must get well and then you and your father come to my studio in Phoenix. I'll create a portraiture of the two of you."

Amy turned shining eyes on her father. "Can we go when I'm better, Papa? We could hang the picture over our mantle at home."

Thomas smoothed a hand down his daughter's shiny golden tresses. "Yes, we can."

After parting ways with George, Thomas anticipated it would be two days before they arrived at their destination and his anxiety increased with each step. Had he been foolish in bringing Amy on such a long journey? Were the healing woman's abilities simply a rumor with no substance? And how could she possibly help Amy if she had no medical training?

#  18: Preparation

Granddaughter, he's nearby. Prepare the bedroom for a man and his daughter.

Tana jerked awake. For long moments she stared at the ceiling and then spoke aloud to her grandmother. "Frannie, you know I never allow strangers into our home."

There was no reply since Frannie only spoke to Tana in dreams. She drifted back to sleep and suddenly received an answer. You must make an exception this time Tana. Prepare the bedroom.

Tana woke again and sat on the side of the bed and whispered as much to herself as to her grandmother, "Why the exception, Frannie?" Rather than return to bed, she rose, lit a lantern, and walked to the bedroom that had once belonged to her parents. She had many uses for it now and stared at the baskets of dried herbs, and the fruits and vegetables drying on the leather of animals she had skinned. She had never killed an animal, but those that came to her for help and did not survive, she used their hides and made jerky of their flesh. Only the previous autumn the cow that had provided milk for many years had died of old age. Tizzy's passing saddened Tana but she knew the animal had chosen to die at that time to provide Tana with hide, meat, and bones before winter. Since then she had purchased a goat named Beulah from the closest settlement to replace Tizzy's constant supply of milk.

She closed the bedroom door and walked to her woodstove to start a fire. Filling a kettle with water, she decided she needed something stronger than tea and reached to the highest shelf above her sink to retrieve a jar of precious coffee beans she had recently roasted. Placing the beans between two cloths she crushed them with a granite stone. Lifting the bottom cloth, she emptied the grounds into the kettle, along with crushed egg shells to remove the bitter taste and also settle the grounds to the bottom. Just before the coffee boiled she removed it from the stove and allowed it to sit. Several minutes later she poured a large mug for herself.

Wrapped in a shawl she stepped onto her porch, settled into Frannie's old rocking chair, and watched the stirrings of dawn splash the sky with shades of pink. Long after her coffee turned cold, she continued to sit and sip. Finally, with a sigh of resignation, she returned to her cabin to begin clearing and cleaning the extra bedroom.

After that, she milked her goat, gathered eggs, fed and cared for the animals that had come to her for help, and again sat in Frannie's rocking chair to wait.

Several hours earlier Thomas and Amy had watched the red rocks miraculously materialize as dawn ignited the sky in shades of pink. The massive, towering formations were in a word—indescribable. As if their height and grandeur weren't sufficient, nature had painted them various gradients of orange and red. Depending on the angle of the sun, the colors flamed like fire or smoldered like dying embers.

Still following the trail they had been traveling for two days, they came to a creek of gently flowing water that was the same color as the red rocks. Thomas dipped his hands into the muddy stream and lifted a handful of red clay from the bottom. On his haunches, he scanned the "bell." They had first seen it the day before and he knew the healing woman's cabin wasn't far away. He pointed. "We need to go behind that outcropping to reach a valley northwest of the bell." He stood, stretched, grinned at Amy, and said, "Are you ready, honey?"

Amy's sweet smile warmed his heart. It was so reminiscent of her mother's. "I'm ready, Papa. This is a grand adventure."

Thomas pulled his daughter into a hug. "It certainly is, and someday we'll tell it to your children so they can tell it to their children."

They followed the creek until early afternoon and then the trail cut northwest, leaving the water. By late afternoon they were on the backside of the outcropping and had entered a verdant valley rich with varieties of juniper trees, pine trees, fir trees, oak trees, and bushes of mesquite, creosote, acasia, desert broom, and other plants he did not know the names of. The trail now turned northeast and when he spied cottonwood trees, he knew they would soon reach another creek; the one that would lead them to the healing woman. At the creek they refreshed and rested and then followed it upstream. Sometimes the trail meandered beside the water, but often it cut a path through boulders, brush, trees, and fallen debris. He lifted his gaze to the giant red edifice ahead of them and decided they were very close to the healing woman's cabin—all the landmarks were in place. Then he wondered how a woman alone could survive in such a secluded location.

They entered a copse of pines and firs and he paused, holding his breath. Through the branches he had spied the logs of a cabin. Glancing at Amy atop Stanton, he said, "I believe we're here. There's a cabin beyond these trees."

Excitement sparkled in Amy's eyes, but her voice wavered. "Papa, I feel so nervous."

"Li'l darlin', there's no need for you to be nervous. I'll do all the talking."

She nodded and bit her bottom lip.

As they moved through the trees, Thomas eyed his rifle in its scabbard. If this wasn't the healing woman's cabin and they had stumbled onto a miner's or trapper's cabin, he might need it as leverage to leave. Miners and trappers tended to be mean and ornery.

They reached a narrow entrance to the property and he led his animals into a clearing. A young woman with hair the color of blackest coal sat on the porch in a rocking chair. Slowly, she rocked back and forth, watching their approach.

Tana's heart jumped but her expression did not change and her rocking motion did not cease. A tall man leading a horse with a little girl in the saddle, and a mule following, approached her cabin. He was still too far away to distinguish his features, but the closer he came the more her heart raced. She concentrated on his eyes, the window to his soul, never removing her gaze from them.

He stopped several feet from the porch and her heart expanded. He was now close enough for her to distinguish clear blue eyes set beneath straight dark brows and framed by thick lashes. His eyes were not only beautiful, but there was a depth of compassion she rarely encountered in others. There was something else; suffering and grief. This man was well acquainted with that which could make or break a man.

She tore her gaze from his and studied the child. The girl was small-boned and thin. Tana could feel weakness in the little one's body and knew the father had brought her to the red rocks as a last resort. The man cleared his throat and she moved her gaze back to his, still rocking back and forth.

He removed his hat and held it to his side. "Ma'am, my name is Thomas Matthews and this is my daughter, Amy." When she didn't respond he said, "We heard about the healing woman of the red rocks and we've traveled a long way to see you."

The intensity of his gaze caused Tana to inhale long and deep. She stopped rocking, tilted her head, and did something she rarely did, she spoke to a stranger. "How long has your child had this weakness in her body?"

The man's eyes widened in surprise and he asked in a voice as rich and fertile as freshly tilled soil, "How do you know she's weak?"

"Because I can feel it."

His eyes widened even more and then he frowned. "How is it you can feel the illness of another?"

Tana rose from the rocking chair and ignored his question. Instead, she said, "I've prepared a guest room for you and your daughter. I'll show it to Amy while you unload and care for your animals. There are empty stalls near the back of the barn." She paused and added, "Don't be frightened by the animals. They won't harm you." She refused to remove her gaze from the stranger's and saw his indecision. Her heart yearned to comfort him. "I'll take good care of Amy, I promise. I'll help her wash up and then feed her before laying her down to rest."

The man named Thomas blew a breath, nodded, and then lifted his daughter off his horse. Holding her hand, he walked her to the porch. He was so close Tana could feel herself drowning in eyes the color of her lapis stone. Honesty and integrity as warm as a summer day radiated from him and she had a sudden inclination to cry. Frannie's words echoed across her mind. He will make you cry.

#  19: Barn Surprise

Thomas spoke to his animals, "Stanton, Petunia, let's get you settled in the barn." The horse and mule must have realized they were at the end of the trail and hastily followed him. Petunia moved faster than Stanton and reached the barn first. Thomas chuckled as he led them inside.

And then he stopped dead in his tracks and cursed. "What the hell!" The healing woman's words flashed across his mind. Don't be frightened by the animals.

In the third stall lay a male wolf eyeing the newcomers. Thomas half expected the animal to raise to his feet, regardless that he was wearing a splint, and either attack or snarl a warning to leave. The wolf merely stretched and yawned.

Thomas also expected Stanton and Petunia to bolt, but when he turned around, they were both waiting for him to continue forward, seemingly oblivious to the wolf. Thomas rubbed his jaw in confusion and then scanned more stalls. His confusion increased when he saw a mother rabbit with her litter, a fawn, a squirrel, and finally, a beaver floating in a large tub. There was also a goat and another mule. The squirrel wore a splint, like the wolf, and the fawn had his shoulder bandaged; the beaver had a large gash on his head that had been shaven and sewn. The mother rabbit and her brood had nothing noticeably wrong.

Thomas was stunned! The story he'd heard from the outlaw and also from George Rothrock about the healing woman and her animals, hadn't been a stretch of the truth. He scratched his head and wondered how it was possible for all these critters to be together in such close proximity. As he slowly walked forward, followed by his horse and mule, he made that question a top priority to ask.

For Stanton and Petunia, he selected stalls farthest from the wolf. He unloaded the packs on Petunia and removed Stanton's saddle. Most of the supplies would stay in a corner of the barn, but the satchel with his and Amy's clothing, the pouch with their remaining food, and his medicine bag, he set aside. Not wanting to leave both his guns in the barn, he hid the rifle behind his supplies, but stuffed his pistol in the satchel. Although the healing woman's cabin was secluded, there was no telling how many people had heard of her and would venture there to find help. He wasn't ready to become an unarmed man in this wilderness.

After he brushed his animals, he gathered the belongings he was taking to the house and gave a last apprehensive glance at the sleeping wolf as he exited the barn.

He knocked on the cabin door and waited nervously for the healing woman to open it. When she did, he blurted the first thing that came to his mind. "There's a wolf in your barn." Then he wanted to kick himself for saying something so obvious. Of course she knew there was a wolf in her barn.

Her lavender eyes twinkled when she replied, "Did he scare you?"

"Hell...er...heck, yes!"

"Did he snarl at you?"

"No."

"So you had no reason to fear, just as I said."

Although the woman's eyes continued to twinkle, Thomas had yet to see her smile. He asked, "How is it possible for all those animals to be together?"

"I don't know."

Her response was not what he'd expected. He decided to change the subject. "Ah, would you mind telling me your name, ma'am? All I know you by is the healing woman."

She stepped sideways and made a motion for him to enter. As she walked toward her sink, she called over her shoulder, "Please call me Tana." Reaching for a mug in the cupboard above the sink, she said, "You can set your things by the settee and put them away later. Have a seat at the table and rest."

"Thank you, but I'd like to see Amy first. Which room is she in?" He glanced at the door nearest them and then across the cabin to the other one.

Tana looked over her shoulder and motioned with her head toward the far door. She said, "The child was so exhausted she barely ate anything and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow."

Thomas started across the large room that had a stone fireplace taking up most of the back wall. He passed a dining table with six chairs, and then a couple of rockers facing a settee in the living area. Small tables were on either side of the settee. The room was modest, but cheerful with colorful scarves draped over the back of the settee and rocking chairs. Vases of wild flowers adorned all the tables. He set his belongings down and continued to the bedroom where Amy was. Quietly, he opened the door and breathed a sigh of relief. She was curled under blankets and sleeping peacefully. He returned to the dining table that was placed near a potbelly stove and said, "Thank you." Something bubbled in an iron pot and his stomach growled.

Tana motioned for him to sit at the table. Exhausted, he gratefully pulled out a chair and sank onto it. She walked to the stove and used a rag to lift a coffeepot and pour a steaming cup of coffee that she set in front of him. Then she began filling a bowl with stew from the bubbling pot. Thomas' stomach growled again, but he said, "Ma'am, I don't want to be a burden. I have food I can eat. I know living in the wilderness can tax one's reserves. If you'll just feed and house Amy, I'll pay you. As for me, I'll sleep in the barn."

Tana cocked her head sideways, studied him, and finally said, "I have an abundance of food and I prepared this meal especially for you and Amy."

Thomas frowned, "That doesn't seem likely, ma'am. How could you know we were coming?"

"My grandmother told me."

It still didn't make sense, but Thomas glanced at the door on this side of the cabin. "Is she in her room?"

"That's a matter of interpretation. She died when I was sixteen."

Thomas jerked his gaze back to Tana's unusual eyes and neither of them spoke as they stared at each other. Finally, he asked softly, "How do you communicate with a dead person?"

For the first time, Tana smiled, and Thomas felt pole-axed. She was a plain woman with a smile that made her beautiful. She responded with two words, "Through dreams."

#  20: Clash

In the end, Thomas decided to stay in the cabin with his daughter. After Tana's revelation that her dead grandmother talked to her, he wasn't sure of her sanity. Occasionally, he had treated miners and trappers who had lived alone for months or years, and for many, the state of their mind was questionable.

All night he tossed in bed, his mind and emotions troubled. There were questions he needed to ask to clear the air. If Tana was unstable, he should probably leave immediately. But where would he go? Back to Globe? Maybe to Phoenix to seek help? Frustration tied his stomach in knots and he wasn't in a pleasant mood when he woke at dawn. He slipped out of bed, pulled his trousers over his long johns, and entered the main room, expecting it to be empty. It wasn't. For proprieties sake, he reentered his room and donned his shirt.

When he returned, Tana stood by the potbelly stove. She wore a plain brown skirt and what appeared to be a man's plaid woolen shirt tucked into it. A white bodice apron covered the front of the shirt and halfway down her skirt. A single black braid reached past her waist. Her facial bone structure was Indian but her complexion, just as the outlaw had described it, was milky white. She lifted the coffeepot with a rag and poured black brew into a large mug. "Good morning, Mr. Matthews. I made coffee again because you don't seem the type to drink tea."

Thomas lifted an eyebrow. "And why do you think that?" he asked as he walked to the table and sat down.

The hint of a smile tugged at the healing woman's lips and started Thomas' heart thumping, but before it reached full bloom, she lowered her head and set the mug in front of him. She seemed to hesitate and then said, "I perceive you are a bold and outspoken man who finds my way of life quite unsettling. Please ask me whatever questions you like."

Thomas fumbled the mug and hot liquid spilled over. The woman was amazingly perceptive. Tana blotted the spill with the cloth in her hand and Thomas decided he needed to come clean about his vocation. "I didn't tell you yesterday that I'm a medical doctor with a practice in Globe. And please, call me Thomas since I've been calling you Tana. What's your last name?"

"Raven Sees"

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Tana Raven Sees. My grandfather was Apache and his name was Raven Sees. My grandmother adopted that as her last name and when my mother married, she liked it better than my father's last name of Schillinger, so she kept it."

"And what did your father think about that?"

"I never heard him say one way or the other. He seemed fine with it."

Thomas frowned. "That's seems most unusual."

Tana's mouth hinted at a smile again. "What's unusual to one person may not be to another. Since you are a doctor why did you bring your daughter to me?"

Thomas wasn't fooled by her question. "I think you know."

She nodded and stated, "Your skills have not helped her."

"That's correct. Her mother died of the same strange illness two years ago."

Thomas heard genuine concern in Tana's voice when she said, "I'm so sorry to hear that. How did you hear about me?"

"Truthfully, I was in a saloon downing a few drinks to curb my frustration, when I heard an outlaw relating a story. He said he'd brought an injured man to you." Thomas paused and tapped his thumb on the table. "And to be quite frank, his story was most unusual."

"But you were desperate and willing to try anything."

"Yes."

Tana reached for an empty mug on the table and returned to the stove to pour herself a cup. When she settled across from Thomas, she did something that stole his breath. She smiled in the same way she had the night before...and she was beautiful.

Seemingly oblivious to his impaired breathing, she said, "It's quite notable when a man of medical knowledge admits he may need help."

Thomas stared at his coffee, not wanting to meet her gaze. He was afraid of what it might reveal to this perceptive woman. "Your expertise was made abundantly clear and I was quite impressed."

Softly, she replied, "I wasn't referring to me; I was referring to you. Most doctors are dogmatic in their beliefs." She lifted her mug to her mouth.

Thomas couldn't remove his gaze from her lips. Forcing himself to look away, he considered what to ask her. "How do you decide on the best treatment for your patients? Do you perform a physical examination first?" He glanced back at her.

Her eyes, now violet, stared into his for so long that he wanted to fidget. Finally, she said, "No. I talk to them."

"To understand their symptoms?"

"To understand their heart."

Thomas frowned. "But how does that allow for a diagnosis?"

"I have no idea."

Thomas' frown deepened. "Tana, I have traveled many miles, sometimes against my better judgment, to bring my only child here, and I don't want to play word games."

"Dr. Matthews, if you think I'm playing word games, you're free to leave. I didn't ask you to come and I won't ask you to stay. I respect you as a doctor and I ask you to respect me as a healer. You are certainly welcome to ask about any treatment I believe would be helpful for Amy, but I may not have answers that a doctor would find satisfactory. I simply do what I am told."

Thomas was feeling like the devil's advocate, but he asked anyway, "Told by whom?"

Tana's gaze penetrated his defensiveness. "The Great Spirit, of course."

#  21: Elixir

"Papa!"

Amy's terrified scream interrupted the intensity of the moment and Thomas jumped from his chair so swiftly it toppled over. Jerking the door of the bedroom open, he rushed to her bedside.

"Amy, what's wrong?"

She was lying on her back staring at the ceiling. Turning her face toward her father she said, "Everything is so blurry. I can't even see your face, Papa. All I can see is your shape."

An arrow of fear pierced Thomas' heart. He grabbed his medical bag from a corner of the room and returned to his daughter. Vaguely aware that Tana had stepped inside the doorway, he unlatched the bag and pulled out a stethoscope to listen to Amy's heartbeat. Next, he retrieved his ophthalmoscope to examine her eyes. When he could discover no reason for her vision problem, he gently held her in his arms and said, "Amy, I want you to relax. I believe the spell will subside quicker if you do." He swallowed the lump in his throat, held her a moment longer, and then lay her back on her pillow.

Tears leaked from Amy's closed eyes and she said, "I don't want to be blind, Papa. I'm so scared."

He smoothed the waves of her hair and reassured, "You're not going to be blind." Even while he said the words, he wondered if they would prove to be false. He lifted his gaze to Tana who still stood in the doorway. She motioned with her head that she wanted to talk with him in private. He said, "Amy, I'll be right back with a glass of water."

Amy opened her unfocused eyes and said bravely, "I'll be all right, Papa."

Thomas gently closed the door and walked to the chair he'd toppled over. He righted it and then gave his attention to Tana. She stood beside a five-tier freestanding cabinet on the same wall as her sink and cupboards, and opened it. Inside he saw several jars, some with liquids and others with what appeared to be dried herbs or flowers, and still others with powders. She lifted a jar from the first tier and turned to face him. "This will help her relax."

Thomas frowned. "What is it?"

Tana studied his face. "It's an elixir that's been passed down many generations in my family."

Thomas didn't hesitate to ask, "What are the ingredients?"

Tana cocked her head and said, "The elixir begins by filling a jar with water from a spring not far from here. Into the water I immerse a crystal that's been in my family for over two hundred years and leave the jar overnight in the roots of a Spirit Tree, also nearby."

Thomas' eyes widened and he replied, "That's ridiculous."

Other than a momentary flash in Tana's eyes, her expression remained impassive as she turned to place the jar back in its place. Without a word, she lifted a basket off the floor that was filled with jars, bandages, crystals and other stones, and sprigs of flora he did not recognize. She paused in the doorway and said, "I'll be in the barn. I have a goat to milk, eggs to collect, and animals to treat." She softly closed the door behind her.

Thomas had never felt so conflicted. The elixir seemed harmless, but the idea that it could induce relaxation was bizarre. He rubbed his temples in an effort to ease a headache and eyed the cupboard. In a sudden decision that was probably foolish, he retrieved the jar and carried it to the sink, stared at it for a moment, and then unscrewed the lid, pouring two fingers' width into a glass. Before he could change his mind he gulped it down. Placing the jar back in the cupboard, he returned to the sink and poured a glass of water for Amy from the water pitcher.

Tana spent the remainder of the morning performing her daily chores. She treated the animals by removing old dressings and applying new ones, as well as pouring elixirs into bowls for them to lap up. She also spoke gently to her patients with encouraging words. While she worked she thought about her grandmother's message from the previous night's dream. You must be patient with him, Tana. Teach him.

Those simple words had kept her temper in check. Under normal circumstances she would have answered his skepticism with a retort, but his distress over his child was heartbreaking.

Kneeling beside Warrior, she patted the wolf's head and tested his leg. "My friend, soon you'll return to your pack and your ladylove." A sound distracted her and she glanced around to see Thomas standing in the barn's entrance. Backlit by the sun, his mahogany hair glowed in the morning light. Tana's heart expanded in sympathy for what he was going through. She returned her attention to Warrior.

"I need to own up to something, Tana," said Thomas.

She remained silent and ceased her ministration.

He said, "I'll not apologize for anything I do concerning my daughter, but I will tell you that I drank some of the elixir. I had a terrible headache and now it's gone." There was a long silence before he continued. "Amy hasn't improved. I'd like to administer the elixir."

Frannie's words drifted across Tana's mind again. You must be patient with him, Tana. Teach him. She gathered her supplies into her basket and said, "I'll pour some for her."

#  22: History

By mid-afternoon Amy's vision had cleared and she seemed perfectly normal. Thomas leaned against the outside of the barn and watched Tana. She was gutting and cleaning a wild turkey. She glanced up. "I hope you like turkey stew. The bird arrived early this morning but he was too weak to survive wounds from a predator."

Thomas said almost in jest, "So it doesn't bother you to eat one of your patients?"

Tana glanced up. "I would have preferred he lived, but he didn't. Have you considered that perhaps he knew he was dying and wanted to bring us sustenance? Perhaps we should be grateful."

"So now animals can reason and they have a desire to nourish humans?"

"By your tone, you seem to think that is absurd?"

"It is rather farfetched."

Tana began dissecting the bird. "Carrots and potatoes will make this stew delicious." She glanced at Amy sitting in Frannie's rocker on the porch and reading one of Tana's childhood books. With a hint of a smile, she replied, "Perhaps it's not as farfetched as you think and goes beyond reason."

Intrigued, Thomas said, "Please explain."

Tana turned her attention back to the bird. "You may not like what I have to say."

Thomas lifted an eyebrow and replied, "But then again, I might."

She glanced up and gave him a brilliant smile. Softly, she said, "True." She continued cleaning the bird while she spoke. "The Indians, of which I am a descendant through my grandfather, respected the land and the animals. They killed only that which was necessary and gave thanks to the Great Spirit. The animals, also children of the Great Spirit, gave their lives in the service of humanity, and there was harmony on earth." Sadness entered her eyes. "White man, of whom I am also a descendant, does not respect the land or the animals. He kills for sport and leaves carcasses to rot. In the name of greed, he destroys the land and takes what is not his–"

Thomas interrupted, "All white men are not like that."

"Of course not. In every race there are the giving and the greedy. But as a whole, the driving force of white man has been dominance and greed. Oh, he may paint it with words like: expansion, adventure, progress, new frontiers, but we both know what the outcome is—death—death to men, women, and children; death to animals; death to the land." She puffed a breath. "Someday the insanity will cease, but not in our lifetimes."

Thomas studied Tana, thought about her words, and said, "Tell me about yourself, Tana?"

She lifted her lashes to meet his gaze, appeared to come to a conclusion, and replied, "My great-grandparents, like so many, traveled to America from Ireland following the dream of working their own land and then leaving it to their posterity. They arrived around the turn of the century and after two years of toiling in textile factories in the east, my grandmother Frannie who was fifteen, had a dream about red rocks. In the dream, her grandmother, long dead in the old country, spoke to her. She said the red rocks existed in the unchartered lands westward. My great-grandfather and great-grandmother believed her. Led by her dreams they came to this place after many months. They were among the first white settlers, even before the land was a territory of the United States."

Thomas interjected, "But couldn't that be classified as expansion or adventure, characteristics you earlier berated as greed."

Tana's eyes twinkled. "Yes, Dr. Matthews. It's an irony, isn't it? However, I believe the difference is that they lived in harmony with the land and its inhabitants."

He quirked an eyebrow and said, "Continue."

She acknowledged his request by replying, "Because my great-grandparents respected the natives, over time they became fast friends; long before the Indian wars. My family and the Indians learned each other's languages, which allowed them to share healing practices and spiritual beliefs. My grandmother fell in love with the son of the medicine man and married him. My mother was their only child and she married a trapper in the area."

Surprised, Thomas said, "Didn't that go against your family's belief about animals?"

Tana's smile warmed Thomas' heart. "Of course. But the heart doesn't listen to the head. My mother and father were deeply in love and she accepted him for who he was, as he accepted her." Her smile faded. "Sometimes lessons are learned in unexpected ways. My father got his foot caught in one of his own traps and after hours of agony, freed himself, but by the time he reached home, he had lost too much blood. He died in my mother's arms and his final words were, 'I understand.'"

Thomas released a long breath. "How old were you?"

"Ten."

He chanced another question, "How long have you lived here alone?"

Tana gave him one of her smiles that hinted of unfathomable mysteries. "Since I was twenty. My mother was the last to die. I'm thirty now."

Thomas stated, "Your mother seems to have died young."

Tana shrugged. "She was sixty. She married later in life. I wasn't born until she was forty-one. However, her death was more of a transition. My father had been visiting her in dreams and she simply did not wake up one morning. We had talked about her transition and I knew it was coming. She knew I would be fine."

Thomas scoffed, "Tana, what you're saying is hard for me to accept."

"Nevertheless, it's true."

"So you've been alone for ten years?"

Tana tilted her head and replied, "No. I've never been alone. The animals are always with me and watch over me." She started washing the blood off her hands in the bucket of water at her feet and finished with, "As are my ancestors."

Before Thomas could reply, she said, "I need to start the stew and then till my garden."

#  23: Meeting Again

A week after their arrival at Tana's cabin, Thomas remained confused by her care of his daughter. Other than dosing her with a small glass of the relaxing elixir each morning, she did not examine her or offer other concoctions. Mostly, she just talked to his daughter, read to her, or played the game of draughts with her. Amy suffered several falling spells, but thankfully her vision remained intact.

It was early morning and Thomas didn't expect Amy to wake for another hour, so he started toward the barn. Every morning Tana spent the better part of it doctoring and feeding her animals. When he reached the entrance he heard her speaking to Warrior. Thomas would have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't terrified of the wolf. He watched her stroke the animal's back and listened to her sweet voice.

"Soon, Warrior, you'll return to your family. They're close by waiting for you. You've been a good leader..." her voice trailed and she glanced up. "Hello, Thomas. This is a fine day."

"Yes, ma'am, it is. I was just leading my animals to the creek to water and graze." He walked past her and Warrior, but paused and turned, keeping a wary eye on the wolf. "Tana, please don't take this question the wrong way, but you're a long way from civilization and you don't seem to lack for supplies. How is that so?"

When she didn't immediately respond, he explained, "I just want to reinforce what I told you when I first arrived. I intend to reimburse you for any supplies I use and the food you've graciously served Amy and me, and, of course, your medical expertise."

Another long moment passed before she responded. "Over many years my great-grandparents, grandparents, parents, and myself, have helped all who come to us. Most continue on life's journey, but some, whenever they return this way, bring supplies as a way of thanking me and my family. My Indian family also gifts me with necessities."

Thomas stared at the wolf resting his head in Tana's lap. Once again he marveled at her uncanny ability with animals. What was it about her that made them so loving and docile? Were they reciprocating her love?

She laughed and joked, "And Thomas, I'm not completely backwards. I have been known to venture to the closest settlement to purchase supplies." Before Thomas could reply, she said, "And you will not reimburse me for anything."

He retorted, "If you don't accept payment, how is it you have money to purchase anything?"

Warrior suddenly lifted his head from Tana's lap and gave a low growl. She said, "Someone's coming. We'll have to continue this conversation later." She stood and walked toward the entrance with the wolf following.

Thomas ordered, "You wait in the barn while I see who it is." He eyed his belongings in a back corner of the barn with his rifle hidden behind them.

Tana ignored his order and continued outside. Over her shoulder, she said, "I have nothing to fear."

Exhaling an exasperated breath, Thomas moved to retrieve his rifle. If Warrior's leg was healed, he would have agreed with her, but a wolf wearing a splint probably wouldn't be much protection. He retrieved his rifle and stepped beside Tana, momentarily forgetting the wolf on the other side of her.

She glanced at his rifle and shook her head. "There's no need for that. In fact, I don't think our protectors much appreciate it."

Confused, Thomas said, "Protectors? What are you talking about?"

Tana held his gaze, gave him a smile that hinted at those unfathomable secrets, and nodded across the clearing. He turned and almost dropped his rifle. A pack of wolves had spread out in front of the tree line.

"How in God's name is that possible?"

Tana merely said, "It's not polite to swear."

Thomas turned incredulous eyes on her and she said, "If necessary, they will give their lives for ours."

Thomas' eyes widened and he said, "My God!"

Tana laughed softly and returned her attention to the narrow entrance to her property. A few minutes later a cowboy on horseback came into view. She said to Thomas, "He's been here before. He said he's a lawman, but it's a lie. There's a lawman after him. Something must have happened to bring him back here because Warrior and the wolves scared the daylights out of him."

The cowboy spotted them in front of the barn and slowly walked his horse forward. Tana said, "He's injured."

Stopping his horse several feet away, the man nodded and said in a raspy voice reflecting pain, "Howdy, ma'am. Didn't figure I'd be back here, seeins' as how you got a passel of wolves ready to tear me apart, but a bullet in my side made me rethink that. If I don't get it out, I'm a dead man." The outlaw moved his gaze from Tana to Thomas, then to Warrior, and finally to the wolves near the trees.

Tana asked, "Did the law catch up to you and shoot you?"

The man smiled. "So you didn't believe my story about being a lawman?"

"No."

"Yep, the law caught up with me, but I outsmarted Marshall Earp. He's probably not far behind, so I need to get fixed up and leave."

Tana replied, "Living an outlaw's life usually guarantees an early grave, but that's your choice, just as it's my choice to heal, as well as Dr. Matthews' choice." She motioned inside the barn. "Follow the good doctor to the back room and he'll see to your needs while I water and feed your horse."

Thomas frowned as he glanced from the injured man to Tana. She gave him that brilliant smile that made his stomach feel like it was tumbling down a shaft, and said, "There are plenty of bandages and supplies available. I'll check on Amy and fetch your medical bag."

#  24: Doctoring

Thomas finished wrapping the outlaw's wound after removing a bullet that hadn't imbedded too deep. Luck was on the man's side because the injury was treated before infection set in. However, the removal had been painful because the cowboy refused the laudanum Thomas offered. Thomas hadn't asked any questions while treating the man and didn't try to persuade him to stay.

The injured man said, "So, what's a doctor doing out here in the middle of nowhere? Are you and that witch woman together?"

Thomas frowned. "She's not a witch and I don't think our relationship is any of your business."

"True. But I'm sure you can understand my curiosity. A woman living in the wilderness with wolves protecting her, and God knows what else, is gonna get asked about."

Thomas shrugged. "I suppose." He finished tying the bandage. "Keep it clean and change the dressing at least every other day. I'll give you enough bindings for a week."

Tana stepped through the open door and held up a jar of something that looked like mud, and instructed, "Tonight, and every night, you should spread this paste over the wound until it's healed."

The outlaw reached for his shirt and Thomas helped him into it.

Tana said, "Your horse is tired and weary, Mr. Clanton. I told you before that he needs rest."

The cowboy smiled slightly. "I suppose my horse told you that?" Before Tana could answer he said, "Since you know my name I'm guessing Marshall Earp was already here. Was it before or after I showed up the first time?"

"Before."

The cowboy nodded. "I'll need my gun and rifle returned."

Thomas interjected. "You'll get both, unloaded of course, when you mount your horse."

The man responded with a raspy laugh. "You folks got nothin' to fear from me. I got no desire to become the wolves' next meal. And besides that, I'm dead set on avenging my brother who was killed by Marshal Earp and his gang in Tombstone."

#  25: Soul Talk

Another week passed and Thomas and Tana sat in rockers on the porch after Amy went to bed. Gazing upward, Thomas picked out a couple of constellations, pointed toward them and said, "I've never seen stars so close you can touch them. This land is beautiful beyond description."

Tana sighed. "My grandmother always said our family and the red rocks have been woven together like a basket."

"Have you ever considered living anywhere else? I mean if you could choose any place."

"I've read books about faraway and exotic lands, but other than visiting them, my heart is here. When I was small my grandmother would tell me stories her parents told her about Ireland–" She grinned and added with an Irish accent, "–and the wee one fairies. My grandfather, being Indian, added his own stories about animal spirits roaming the red rocks."

"And what was your conclusion about those stories?"

Tana lowered her head from staring at the sky and turned to face him. Her expression changed to one of sadness. "My conclusion..." She waved her hand to encompass the silhouette of trees bathed in moonlight. "...is that one day this valley will become settled by pioneers, which means the wee ones and animal spirits, as well as the land, will be sacrificed in the name of progress. Animals will die, trees will be cut, and lawmen will become necessary for keeping the peace. Rivers will lose their freedom to dams. The native population will be driven onto reservations. It is the way of progress."

"Or greed?"

"Yes, greed."

Thomas pondered her words. "Not all progress is bad."

"No, it's not. Without it, we would remain in the dark ages. But the cause and affect I just recounted is inevitable. If there is an answer, I don't know what it is. Do you?"

Thomas thought a moment and then replied, "I doubt there is an answer. Perhaps the solution is to live each moment as if it were the last and enjoy what is now."

"And what happens when that moment is no longer enjoyable?"

"Then you either accept it or work to change it."

Tana said, "Then I suggest we enjoy this evening to its fullest."

Thomas chuckled, "I couldn't agree more. Let's leave the philosophical talk for another time. I have another question for you."

Tana smiled. "You want to know why I haven't done more to treat your daughter's illness."

"How do you read my mind so well?"

"I didn't read your mind. I only asked what a trained doctor would ask."

"And how does the healing woman respond to that question."

The moonlight reflected off the smile Tana gifted him with, and her eyes sparkled. "I would say that healing is more than potions and examinations. There is an element that begins in the soul. Your daughter must want to live."

"What!" The question startled Thomas. "Are you suggesting my daughter doesn't want to live?"

"Not exactly. I'm saying that Amy has a hole in her heart as big as the one in yours. And broken hearts weaken the physical body and wreck havoc on the emotions. Amy's soul is navigating through a dark tunnel and doesn't know whether it wants to stay or leave."

"You mean die?" Thomas asked with resentment.

"Yes, I mean die."

"So how are you helping her by doing nothing?"

Tana sighed. "It's only your misperception that believes I'm doing nothing. I'm actually guiding her through that tunnel. I'm showing her reasons to live."

"And what are those reasons?"

Unexpectedly, Tana left her rocker and knelt in front of him. Laying her hands atop his, she lifted her eyes to roam his face. "I'm teaching her to do what you spoke of earlier—live in the moment, enjoy the beauty around her, and if the moment changes, to either accept what is, or work to make it beautiful again. Every moment is a paradox of the past becoming the future."

Tana's hands felt warm atop Thomas' and he wasn't ready for her to leave. He turned his hands over until their palms touched and then he curled his fingers around hers. In a gentle voice he said, "I want to kiss you, Tana."

She lowered her lashes and a second later lifted them again. "I've never been kissed by a man."

"May I be the first?"

"Yes."

Thomas slowly lowered his head until their lips touched. He felt the soft release of her breath and some of the brokenness in his heart lifted, allowing her sweetness to enter. For an instant only that moment existed.

Tana leaned back, disentangled her hands from his, and said, "Goodnight, Thomas. Tomorrow I'll start Amy on a new elixir."

#  26: Spirit Tree

Tana lay in bed and touched her fingers to her lips, closed her eyes, and relived Thomas' kiss. Even now, her heart pounded with the remembrance. Frannie's words echoed in her ears. He's the one who will make you cry. And also, You must be patient with him, Tana. Teach him.

The next morning she rose early and searched her cabinet for the elixir she'd spoken of the night before. Clasping it with both hands she whispered a prayer for Amy and blessed the liquid. She turned to see Thomas in his doorway watching her. He didn't say anything, but she knew he was remembering their kiss, as was she.

She brought the elixir to the table and set it in the center. "This will strengthen Amy."

Thomas stepped forward and asked, "What is it?"

"As a medical doctor, you'll scoff, so I choose not to reveal the contents."

"Tana, if there's one thing I've learned these past two weeks, it's that you never do anything worthy of ridicule. I won't scoff."

She walked to the cupboard and lifted two mugs for their morning coffee. Setting the mugs on the table, she studied Thomas' eyes and knew he was sincere. "After the coffee is made, we'll sit here and I'll explain the elixir to you."

Two hours later, Amy finished breakfast and Tana poured a glass of the clear liquid that would strengthen her body. Although Thomas had not scoffed, she had seen doubt in his eyes. His doubt hurt more than she could have imagined. She craved his trust and belief in her.

Amy handed her the empty glass. "All done, Miss Tana."

Remembering Frannie's admonishment to teach, Tana said, "Thomas, Amy, would you like me to show you the Spirit Tree?"

Amy said, "Oh, yes!"

Thomas studied her face and she could see his curiosity when he replied, "Yes. I'd like that."

Tana retrieved a large empty basket from the floor and placed several empty jars from her cupboard in it. Then she opened her cabinet and lifted a drawstring leather pouch from the bottom shelf, also placing it in the basket. Thomas watched her movements, but made no comment.

Amy said, "Are you going to make some more medicine?"

"Yes, I am," Tana chuckled. She walked to the door and said, "We'll go to the spring for water first."

The path to a natural spring with water bubbling to the surface was about a ten minute walk. On the way, Tana sang an old Irish tune she had been teaching Amy, and encouraged her to join in. The child loved to sing, so there was no hesitation or embarrassment as she lifted her lovely voice to harmonize with Tana's. The two of them held hands as they trekked forward.

Soon they reached the spring and grinned at each other when they finished the song. Tana smiled at Thomas and set her basket on the ground, kneeling beside it. His expression was contemplative. She unscrewed the lid of a jar and handed it to Amy. "Amy, we need to fill all these jars with this special water."

"Why is it special?" asked Amy.

"Because it's been living in mother earth for a long, long time and that means it's passed through many layers of rocks, and rocks help people heal." She glanced at Thomas again and saw skepticism. Ignoring his doubt, she unscrewed another jar and handed it to him. "Everyone has to fill a jar." His lips tilted upward in a smile even while his eyebrows rose, questioning her belief.

After the jars were full and placed back in the basket, Tana said, "Now we'll go to the Spirit Tree."

Amy placed her small hand in Tana's free one and the simple gesture sent waves of love through Tana. They continued along the trail that brought them back to the creek. Sometimes the path followed the waterway and sometimes it winded away from it into pine or cypress groves. Often it skirted large boulders and fallen trees whose decaying wood slowly nourished the earth that had once nourished the tree. After fifteen minutes the trail ended at the bank of the creek and a few yards from the water an ancient oak rose in stately grace, its twisted roots exposed by innumerable overflows. Tana perched on one of the roots and motioned for Amy and Thomas to join her.

When the three of them faced each other, she reached into her basket and retrieved the leather pouch. Pulling the drawstring open, she emptied the contents onto her lap. Amy's eyes widened at the colorful and varied stones. Thomas' eyes revealed amusement. She grinned and lifted a pink stone. "This is rose quartz and it's useful for healing broken hearts." She met Thomas' gaze again and handed the stone to him. He hesitated before accepting it. She reached for another stone. "And this is lapis. It helps remove confusion and..." she winked at Amy, "solves mysteries." She handed the brilliant blue stone to Amy.

Riffling through the stones in her lap, she selected a blue-green one. "This is turquoise and it helps us learn spiritual lessons." She selected several more and gave short descriptions. Finally she said, "Now we need to drop the stones in the jars of water and plant them in the roots of the Spirit Tree."

Amy's eyes widened and she reverently asked, "Why, Miss Tana?"

Tana smiled. "So the wise old tree can add wisdom to the water."

Tana met Thomas's gaze and saw his incredulity. She glanced back at Amy and the trust in her eyes alleviated some of the hurt caused by Thomas' disbelief. Together they placed each jar deep within the roots of the tree, with Thomas quietly participating. Little was said as they returned home.

A few days later while Tana poured beans into a pot to soak, Thomas said to Amy, "How would you like to help me feed and water the animals?"

"Can I hold one of the baby rabbits, Papa?"

Thomas met Tana's gaze. "Only if it's all right with Miss Tana."

Tana grinned and said, "Yes, you can hold them, but not for long. They're still quite small." Amy clapped her hands in delight and followed her father to the barn.

The first week of his arrival Thomas had taken over the chore of feeding and watering the animals while Tana treated their wounds and illnesses. His help was much appreciated and she knew it was his way of repaying her for helping his daughter, even if he was skeptical of her skill.

Soon Tana joined them and began another round of checking on her charges. Often, she felt Thomas watching her. It was while she was changing the dressing of her latest patient, a javelina with gashes from a recent altercation, that Warrior suddenly became alert. "Someone is coming," she said to Thomas and Amy.

Thomas started for his rifle, but Tana said sharply, "No. It won't be necessary."

"How can you know that?" he asked just as sharply.

She met his gaze and said without apology, "I don't know how I know. I just do." She watched Thomas grind his jaw and recognized indecision in his eyes. Softly, she said, "Trust me, Thomas."

Suddenly a voice yelled out. "Hello! Is anyone home? My name is George Rothrock and I'm looking for Thomas and Amy Matthews."

Amy said, "Papa, it's our friend the photographer. Miss Tana, come meet Mr. Rothrock. He takes beautiful pictures." She ran toward the barn entrance.

Tana removed her gaze from Thomas' and hurried after Amy. She glanced back at him and said excitedly, "I've never met a photographer. It's wonderful that he's come to see you."

Thomas remained in the barn to compose his thoughts. He knew he'd hurt Tana again by not trusting her. But dammit, how could she know their visitor wasn't a danger. Only a few days before he'd seen that same look in her eyes when he couldn't fathom that stones in jars of spring water left overnight in the roots of a "Spirit Tree" had healing qualities.

Inhaling and exhaling a few times, he listened to the greetings outside the barn and then went to welcome George. "Hello, George. It's good to see you again. Did you already go to Flagstaff?"

"I did and I was on my way back to Phoenix. But I decided it would be foolish to be this close to the red rocks and not take the opportunity to photograph them. It may be months or years before I return, and since you described the landmarks you were following, I figured I'd try to find you."

Thomas said to Tana, "We met George on the trail and he was kind enough to share his campsite with us."

Tana smiled warmly. "Since you're Thomas and Amy's friend, you must stay with us. There's a room at the back of the barn."

George smiled, looked past Tana at the barn, and then took a step backward. His expression of friendliness was replaced by fear. "God help us! There's a wolf behind you!"

Amy grinned. "Oh, that's Warrior. He watches over us."

George's expression turned to one of confusion and Thomas interjected, "There's nothing to fear, George. Warrior and his pack protect Tana."

George cast incredulous eyes on Thomas and then Tana. Tana met Thomas' gaze and he read her thoughts. If you believe a wolf and his pack protect me, why can't you believe in me?

#  27: Portraiture

The evening of George's arrival Tana marveled over his photographs. She had no photographs of her family and it saddened her. She had sketches of them, but photography was a wonderful invention. When George showed her the pictures he had taken of the red rocks, her breath hitched. His talent for capturing a moment in time was incredible. In a spontaneous gesture she offered to take him the next day to a place she knew had a splendid view. They would have to trek for a couple of hours, but the overlook would be worth the effort. Thomas remained silent when she said it would be a fun outing for everyone and she cast him a glance.

He said, "I'll stay here with Amy."

Tana saw Amy's disappointment and decided to talk with Thomas privately.

The next morning while George and Amy were outside feeding the hens, she sat across from Thomas at the table. "You and Amy should come with us."

"I don't think she's strong enough."

"She traveled here with you."

"Yes and the journey weakened her. She's been showing improvement and I don't want to compromise that."

"You still don't believe in me, do you? Do you think I would suggest anything harmful to Amy?"

Thomas frowned. "Of course not. What you've done has helped tremendously, but she's not out of the woods. Just yesterday she had a dizzy spell."

"But she didn't fall down."

"No. But I still think it'd be best if we remained behind."

"Thomas, sometimes being too protective removes the joy of life, and losing one's joy is detrimental to one's health."

Rather than continue arguing with him, Tana pushed her chair back and left the cabin.

Thomas held Petunia's lead and followed Tana and George to the crest of an overlook. Amy, as well as George's equipment, was loaded onto Petunia. His daughter's happy expression made him glad he'd changed his mind about staying behind. He had to admit the jaunt was a wonderful break from their daily routine.

He heard George proclaim, "This is a photographer's dream!" And to emphasize his delight, he threw his arms out as though embracing the sky. "We're at the top of the world, my friends!"

Thomas guided Petunia until they were beside George and Tana, and quipped, "I suppose that means you'd like your equipment unloaded as soon as possible."

George smiled broadly. "I'm an open book, sir. You've read my mind."

"It wasn't difficult, George," Thomas laughed.

Thomas lifted Amy off the mule and admonished, "Stay beside Tana, honey."

"I will, Papa."

Tana clasped Amy's hand and pointed toward a group of boulders. "On the other side of those rocks is a clearing that will be perfect for our picnic." She glanced at Thomas. "May I take Amy there?"

"Yes. That's a good idea. I'll bring Petunia over after I unload George's equipment so we can unpack the food."

Tana and Amy both laughed so gaily that Thomas felt embarrassed by his ill-temper that morning. They had all needed this outing.

Soon George was happily deciding which direction he wanted to point his camera first while Thomas led the mule to where Tana and Amy waited. They unloaded their picnic feast and then rejoined George on the ridge to watch him take his first photo. When the sun reached its pinnacle Tana suggested they eat. They happily gorged on boiled eggs and potatoes, jerky, pickled beets, and fresh bread slathered in wild berry jam. Afterward, Tana and Amy lazed on a blanket while Thomas and George leaned against boulders quietly discussing the past two decades of westward expansion.

George said, "The railroads have made substantial progress in opening up new territory. I believe that before we reach the twentieth century the entire continent will be accessible, including Canada and Mexico."

"I agree. And from what I've read, Mr. Pullman has made great strides in the redesign of coaches to make traveling more comfortable."

George chuckled. "And Mr. Pullman should receive a medal for that. I once road a short line in California that was almost as crowded and uncomfortable as a stagecoach. If not for the speed of trains–" he chuckled again, "–when they're not broken down or stopping to refill the water tender, I'd almost be persuaded to avoid them."

There was a lull in the conversation and then George said, "I want to take a portraiture of the three of you at the crest of the ridge. It will be a fantastic picture with the monuments in the background."

Amy clapped her hands. "Papa, can we?"

Thomas glanced at Tana and lifted his eyebrows, questioning her.

Her expression was just as excited as Amy's. She said in a breathless voice, "I've never had my picture taken."

Thomas grinned at George. "Looks like it's unanimous, my friend."

George pushed away from the boulder. "I'll set up the camera. Come over when you're ready."

Tana and Amy had already begun clearing the picnic feast and Thomas said to George, "We'll be there in a few minutes."

Although Thomas watched his daughter for signs of fatigue as she busied herself helping Tana, he saw none; only excitement. He moved his gaze to Tana. She was an amazing woman and his thoughts returned to their kiss under the stars. It had been soft and sweet, but at the same time thrilling. Thomas hadn't believed he could feel that way about a woman again—and there lay the crux of his problem. As Tana had so eloquently explained, she was woven into the land. He wasn't. He was a doctor with a practice in Globe. Now, in the light of day, he wished he hadn't been caught up in the magic of the stars. He wished he'd never kissed her. He didn't want to have feelings, other than friendship, for a woman who lived in the wilderness and claimed to speak with dead relatives; a woman who used stones for healing; a woman who had an eerie ability with animals; a woman whose medicinal treatments were so contrary to his. He could never treat patients with stone elixirs. Yes, he wanted to remarry so Amy would have a mother and he a companion, but he also wanted a wife who would support his medical practice, and Tana could never do that. Although not diametrically opposed to modern medicine; she didn't fully embrace it. Thomas had been taught to treat the physical body. Tana, to some extent, ignored the physical body and focused on the intangible—the heart and soul of the person—and although she seemed to have success on the few people who, in desperation sought her out, his patients would never accept her.

"Papa...PAPA! We're ready!" called Amy.

Thomas blinked to clear his mind and shifted his gaze to Tana. She was watching him with a curious expression. He smiled and said, "So am I, ladies." He gestured forward. "Lead the way."

#  28: Visitation

Thomas had to admit that the backdrop for their picture was incredible. Behind them gigantic stone monuments rose in colorful grandeur. Cast in afternoon sunlight, the reds, browns, and oranges of the stones were breathtakingly beautiful. Although the photograph would not capture the colors, Thomas knew he could never view another photo of the red rocks without visualizing its many and varied shades.

George positioned his subjects and then went about the business of angling his camera just right. Both Tana and Amy giggled when he said how pretty they looked. Thomas watched Tana smooth Amy's hair and then her own, and then brush her hand down her skirt. Her simple blue skirt and white blouse had the worn look of many years. Thomas had noticed that about all of her clothing. Some even had patches. Apparently, clothing was of little concern to her. She never fussed or complained about their condition. She was unlike any woman he had ever met.

George tapped his cheek in a thoughtful manner. "Thomas, I think you should be in the center with Amy and Tana slightly in front of you." They repositioned themselves as requested and George exclaimed, "Perfect composition!" He instructed them to hold their breath and stand perfectly still while he pushed the camera plunger. After a time, he said, "All right, folks, you can breathe again, but don't run off just yet, I want to take another one."

Thomas, Tana, and Amy watched while George reached inside his camera with a long black sleeve and explained that he was removing the exposed tintype and dropping it through a slot into a small tank fitted beneath the camera that was filled with developing solution.

Although George had explained the process to Thomas and Amy when they first met, he again listened with fascination. Lastly, George dipped the tintype in a bucket of water at his feet. Everyone crowded around him to see the picture.

Tana placed her hands on her cheeks. "Oh my, it's wonderful!"

George grinned and said, "And it's yours; a memento of this fabulous day."

Tana exclaimed, "Thank you, George! Thank you!"

Suddenly Petunia brayed loudly, charged around the boulders hiding their picnic area, and bolted down the mountainside. The roar of an angry bear was preceded by its actual appearance. It rounded the stones and stopped, watching them. Thomas silently cursed for having left his rifle in the scabbard on Petunia.

George made a choking sound and Amy covered her mouth with her hand. Thomas' heart leapt into his throat. He said quietly, "Amy, Tana, George, I don't want you to move. If the bear charges I'll distract him so you can run. George, if you have to run, I leave the care of Tana and Amy to you."

George replied, "Yes, sir."

Amy said, "Papa, maybe he'll go away, just like the other one."

"Honey, I hope so."

The bear rose on his hind legs, pawed the air, and growled. Thomas slowly inhaled, mentally and emotionally preparing himself to give his life for the others if it came to that. Their location couldn't have been worse. Behind them the bluff dropped hundreds of feet. In front of them a terrain of jagged rocks and boulders with few trees descended the mountain. At this elevation there was little to hide them or detour an angry bear.

Unexpectedly, Tana stepped around Thomas and started toward the animal. Thomas jerked his hand out and grasped her arm. "What the hell are you doing?" he whispered loudly.

The bear snarled and took a step closer.

"Let go of my arm, Thomas," Tana calmly replied.

"I'm not letting you get yourself killed."

"I'm not going to die. The bear won't harm me and he won't harm you. He'll leave just like the one at the river did."

"What!" In his confusion, he loosened his grip on Tana and she hastened forward.

Over her shoulder she called, "Trust me, Thomas."

Thomas didn't know whether to remain where he was or rush after her. Just as he was about to make a move to save her and shout for George to flee with Amy, the bear sat on his haunches and ceased growling. Tana stood about fifteen feet from him. Speaking gently she said, "Hello, Great One. You've lived among these rocks for as long as I have. I first saw you when I was a child. You were with your mama." The bear became perfectly still and Tana took a step closer. "I know everything has changed since then and it makes me sad, too. I wish I had an answer, but there isn't one. More men will come and someday there will be many families here. It cannot be stopped. Harming my friends will not change anything. You must..." Her words faded as she stepped closer.

George rasped, "My God! She's talking to the animal! And...and he's listening!"

Amy said, "The animals always listen to her."

In fascination, the three of them watched Tana and the bear face each other. She remained several feet from the animal and continued speaking so softly that Thomas couldn't decipher her words. When the bear rose to his full height again, Thomas prepared to rush forward, but it wasn't necessary. The animal merely turned and lumbered away. For long seconds no one moved or said anything—no birds chirped and no breeze blew. The only sound Thomas heard was his own breathing.

Finally, Tana turned and calmly walked back to them. She said simply, "Petunia will soon return." Thomas slipped his arms around her. She sighed and rested her cheek against his chest. He tightened his hold and closed his eyes, but opened them again and glanced down when he felt Amy hugging them both. For a few brief moments time ceased. Then he heard George packing his equipment. Thomas stepped backward, placed his hands on Tana's shoulders and bent until his eyes were level with hers. His gaze roamed her face and then settled again on her strikingly colorful eyes. "Thank you, Tana." He hesitated and asked, "How did you know about the bear at the river?"

Tana gave him her secret smile and said, "Frannie."

#  29: Broken Heart

Five days after the bear incident, George bid a jovial farewell. He grinned and said, "Tana, I only wish I had a photo of you talking to the bear," then he shook his head. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I wouldn't have believed it." With a slightly embarrassed expression he reached to embrace her. "Thank you for your hospitality..." He sighed and finished with, "...and for saving my life."

Tana returned George's hug and replied, "I'm going to miss you, George. You must visit when you return to the red rocks."

He leaned back and smiled. "You can count on it." Next, he turned and knelt in front of Amy. "And I'm going to miss you, too, little one."

Amy's bottom lip trembled. "I wish we could all just stay here forever."

George smoothed her hair. "Amy, the only thing that lasts forever is our memories." He hugged her and then leaned back and grinned. "And we sure have some great ones, don't we?"

Amy nodded and sniffed as tears clouded her eyes.

George stood and reached to shake Thomas' hand. "Here's hoping we meet again, my friend."

Thomas slapped George on the back with one hand and shook with his other. He said, "If you're ever in Globe, I'll line up clientele for you. And although the terrain is quite different from the red rocks, there is beauty and history that should be photographed for our posterity."

George nodded. "Thomas, I may just take you up on that." He reached for his hat, settled it on his head, and bid a final goodbye as he stepped onto the porch. Tana, Thomas, and Amy followed him outside. Everyone waved as George grabbed the lead to his mule loaded with photography equipment and began his journey home. When he disappeared into the trees Tana inhaled slowly. For years she had loved her solitude, but somewhere in the past weeks, that had changed. The thought of Thomas and Amy also leaving brought such heaviness to her heart that she started toward the barn to compose herself. She called over her shoulder, "I need to check on Warrior."

The wolf sat at the entrance to the barn waiting for her. A few days previous Tana had removed his splint and felt his impatience to return to his pack. Silently, she had asked him to stay until his leg was strong again. Now, at her approach, he could barely contain his enthusiasm. She grinned and knelt to inspect his leg. Patting his head, she said, "Your leg has healed perfectly and you're as strong as before. You can go home, dear one." A lump formed in her throat knowing that Warrior was also leaving.

The wolf licked her face, put his paw on her arm, whined, and then ran toward the trees. Halfway there he stopped and turned back to stare at her. She felt both his sorrow and joy at leaving, mirroring her own feelings. Knowing she must release him, she made a waving motion. "Go, Warrior. Your family is waiting for you."

Staring into her eyes, he lifted his head and howled, and then raced for the trees. A flood of emotions rushed through Tana as she watched the reunion of Warrior with his clan. His first encounter was with his mate and they joyfully tussled. Soon that joy spilled over into playfulness with the other wolves. Warrior had returned to his rightful position.

Tana glanced toward the porch to see Thomas watching the wolves and then his gaze sought hers out. His smile was so genuine and sweet it brought tears to her eyes. Frannie's words echoed. He's the one who will make you cry.

Quickly, she reentered the barn. She didn't want him to see her tears. She didn't want to beg him to stay. She didn't want to tell him how much she had come to love and adore and respect him. His world wasn't a world she could enter. She belonged in the red rocks with the ghosts of her family and the animals who needed her.

The remainder of the day was quiet. It seemed George's and Warrior's departures had created an atmosphere of contemplation. Tana excused herself early for bed and woke an hour before dawn with tears drenching her pillow. Covering her face with her hands, she quietly sobbed.

As dawn lit the pane of her window, she sat on the side of her bed, pushed her long braid back, and then knelt to look under her bed. Reaching for the loose floorboard, she lifted it and pulled out a nondescript metal box hidden beneath. Setting the box on her bed, she opened it and removed one stone from among the many precious heirlooms and gems. Also in the box were silver and gold coins and packets of gold dust from grateful patients. Thomas was the first person she had ever refused payment from. She placed the box back in its hiding place.

For many days Tana had observed and felt Amy's strength returning. The stone in her hand was the last remedy needed.

#  30: Disbelief

Thomas stared in disbelief at the gold nugget Tana had set in front of him. It was half the size of his fist. "Tana, where did you get this?"

"My great-grandparents brought it to America from the old country. It's considered the greatest of all healing stones–"

"–and you want Amy to carry it around with her?"

"Yes. That's what I said."

"Tana, that's ludicrous. A chunk of gold cannot heal someone."

Her hurt expression made Thomas want to grab his words back.

"And your medicine did not heal your wife," she stated flatly.

"That's different."

"How so?"

Thomas inwardly cursed. "I'm not going to argue the obvious with you."

"Then don't. Just let Amy carry the stone in her pocket and sleep with it under her pillow for a week."

Thomas closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you have any idea how much this gold is worth?"

"No. Nor do I care. It's a healing stone and thus priceless."

They were interrupted when Amy opened the door to the cabin and rushed inside. "There's an eagle in the yard. I think he's hurt."

For the moment, Thomas forgot his disagreement with Tana as he followed her outside. In the center of the clearing between the cabin and the barn a bald eagle spread and then retracted his huge span of wings. The majestic creature limped forward and stopped, eyeing Tana. Tana said to Thomas and Amy as she started forward, "Wait here. Pain is making him fearful."

Thomas exclaimed, "Tana, please be careful."

She turned and smiled. "He'll not harm me." She returned her attention to the eagle and when she knelt in front of the bird, Thomas held his breath.

Amy said, "Don't worry, Papa, all the animals love Miss Tana."

As if to confirm his daughter's words, Tana touched the bird's wing and he did not react. Thomas could hear soft utterances by Tana, but couldn't make out her words. When she started toward the barn, the animal limped behind her. Thomas thought about their disagreement over the gold nugget and shook his head. Everything he had witnessed over the past weeks was supposedly impossible, so why was he protesting about the gold?

Tana led the eagle to a section of the barn reserved for birds and checked him thoroughly for additional injury other than the one to his leg and talon. By the look of it, he had been captured and tied at the feet. Speaking softly while bathing and applying salve to the injuries, she made the animal as comfortable as possible.

After treating the eagle, rather than return to the cabin, she made rounds among the other animals. Most of the critters she had been caring for when Thomas and Amy arrived had been released back into the wild. As she visited the remaining animals she sang.

"You have a beautiful voice, Tana," said Thomas when she finished her song.

She turned to see him leaning against the siding of the first stall. "As do you and Amy."

There was an intensity to his expression that kept Tana from returning to her chores.

"I'm sorry about this morning," he said. "I was being unreasonable. If you want Amy to carry around a gold nugget, I won't object."

Tana stepped forward until she stood directly in front of him. Reaching her hand to touch his shoulder, she said, "Thank you."

Thomas stroked the back of his fingers down her cheek.

Against her better judgment and surprising herself, she stood on tiptoe and touched her lips to his. She heard his intake of breath and felt his hesitation. Her action had been a mistake but she would never regret it. She stepped back.

Thomas pushed his fingers through his hair. "Tana, I have feelings for you and if I act on those feelings we'd be in trouble. Your life is here. Mine is in Globe. Your medical treatments are the polar opposite of mine. You don't understand me and I don't understand you. We–"

Tana lifted a finger to his lips. "Shh...Thomas. My mind knows what you say is true. My heart doesn't. Since nothing you say will change that, we will speak of this no more. You must return to your home, fall in love again, and marry a woman who believes as you do." She stepped around him and said over her shoulder, "Amy will be able to leave soon."

#  31: Family

Thomas watched Tana read a story to Amy. She sat in a rocking chair in front of the hearth with Amy sitting beside her on a rag rug. The weather had warmed over the past two weeks until there was no need of a fire. He studied his daughter's animated face. She had been symptom free for days. He moved his gaze to Tana and the happiness he felt about his daughter's apparent recovery was replaced by sadness at the thought of leaving Tana. He and Amy would depart within the week; they only had a small window of time to avoid the height of summer.

He lifted the cup of tea Tana had brewed earlier and sipped the lukewarm drink while pondering an idea that had surfaced that morning. Setting his cup on the table he said, "Tana, you once told me there's a settlement about a day from here where you buy supplies."

She glanced up from the book. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I want us to go there so I can replenish your supplies."

She knit her brows together and replied, "There's no need. I have everything I require and my Indian family will be traveling this way soon. They bring me many necessities. And besides, what about the animals?"

Thomas refused to take no as her answer. "Since you refuse my money, I insist."

"Thomas–"

He interrupted with a grin. "We'll leave tomorrow and be back before dark the next night. All the animals have been released except for the eagle and you said you were going to free him tomorrow. We'll leave enough food for the chickens and bring the goat with us. Besides, I'd like to see more of this beautiful country." He lifted his cup to his mouth while keeping his eyes trained on her. He saw a slight smile tilt her lips and knew she was relenting.

"It does sound like fun," she said.

Thomas winked, "But no more bears, please."

She chuckled, "I can't promise that." She glanced at Amy's excited expression. "What do you think, Amy? Should we seek another adventure?"

"Yes!" Amy exclaimed.

Thomas said, "Then it's settled."

Just after dawn the next day Thomas watched in amazement as Tana walked to the center of her yard, lifted her leather-clad arm with the eagle perched on it, and spoke in the Apache language. The magnificent bird gazed upward, back at Tana, and then with a mighty leap soared toward a rose colored sky.

Beside him, Amy said, "Papa, he's free again. I hope he finds his family."

The words "finds his family" put a lump in Thomas's throat and he said, "He will, Amy. I'm sure of it." He felt his daughter wrap her small arms around his legs and the lump got bigger when she said, "I'm so happy you're my family, Papa."

Thomas knelt and hugged his daughter. "I love you, Amy, and we'll always be family." Thomas glanced toward Tana and saw her swipe her eyes. He had never seen her cry. Quickly, she turned and walked back toward the barn.

Two hours later they had secured her cabin and barn and were ready to depart. Amy sat atop Stanton while Tana held the lead to Moses, her own mule, with Beulah, the goat, tethered to him. They had loaded enough supplies for three days, just in case they were waylaid.

Thomas said, "We should be able to return with plenty of flour, sugar, salt, and other necessities. You'll be well-stocked, Tana."

"I'm already well-stocked, Thomas."

"Then you'll be well-well-stocked," he laughed, and both Amy and Tana giggled at his silliness.

The path they followed, although challenging at times, was traversable, and when they paused to rest, Tana explained that the trail had already been there when her great-grandparents settled the area. "It was an Indian track that trappers discovered. I have no doubt it will eventually become a thoroughfare as more settlers arrive."

Thomas stated the obvious, "I know that saddens you."

Tana smiled sweetly at him. "Yes. I want the countryside to remain as it was during my childhood, secluded and teeming with animals. The trappers have already begun decimating the beavers. I fear they will become extinct. Fewer wolves also now roam the area."

Thomas was about to respond when Tana lifted her hand to stop him. The only sounds were a birdcall and a breeze blowing the tops of the pines. Tana said, "My Indian family is nearby."

Thomas and Amy looked around. Amy whispered, "Where are they?"

Tana grinned and lifted her hands to her mouth and voiced a return birdcall exactly like the one they had just heard. Both Thomas and Amy gaped at her. Excitement lit Tana's eyes when she said, "I haven't seen them since before winter."

While they waited, Tana told them they would be meeting her grandfather's brother, who was over ninety, and some of his children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and even a great-great grandson. Before anyone even appeared on the trail, she said, "They're here." A moment later over a dozen people, from very young to very old rounded a bend and Tana rushed to meet them.

Thomas said to Amy, "Honey, we'll wait here to give her time with her family."

"I'm so happy she has family, Papa. I was afraid she'd always be alone."

Thomas squeezed his daughter's hand and watched the joyous reunion.

#  32: Reunion

Tana's visit with her family lasted until noon. Her great uncle, Wise Bird, seemed to be as old as the rocks staring down on them. Skin the color of seasoned leather and etched with deep wrinkles was at war with alert, vibrant eyes—the eyes of a young man. And although his posture was stooped, his bearing was that of a tall man. His voice rang strong and commanding and those traveling with him deferred to him. He laughed often, and when Thomas offered his hand for a shake, the old man's grasp was firm. His black-brown eyes searched Thomas' face and he greeted him in English with puzzling words. "So you are the one."

Before Thomas could ask what he meant, Wise Bird patted Amy on the head and said, "You now strong like red rocks." Those words confounded Thomas even more. Wise Bird glanced at Thomas and laughed. "White man does not understand the ancient path of knowing. Much is revealed in dreams."

Tana reached for her great-uncle's hand and said, "Wise Bird was my grandfather's older brother and became medicine man after his father died. My great-uncle and grandfather learned from their father and taught my family much."

Wise Bird smiled at Tana and replied, "And you have become great medicine woman."

"Thank you, uncle."

Wise Bird returned his attention to Thomas and asked, "You pass by Fort Verde on way to red rocks?"

"I did."

"You hear about soldiers chasing Geronimo?"

Thomas chose his words carefully. "When I was there a soldier reported that Geronimo had been seen near the Superstition Mountains and the day before I left the Calvary went in search of him."

Wise Bird nodded. "One moon ago I hear soldiers find his campsite, but he and my people already gone." Unexpectedly, he lifted his stooped shoulders and rose to an impressive height. For an instant Thomas had a glimpse of just how powerful and intimidating this man would have been in his youth.

Wise Bird said, "My people are scattered like leaves in wind and a day comes when we will all be captured. But we never forget spirits of our family or old ways, and one day we will roam free again." Wise Bird resumed his stooped position as his foretelling words enshrouded Thomas like fog. Thomas believed him.

Wise Bird brightened and said, "But we must not be sad today. We must visit and laugh."

Thomas glanced at Tana hugging the smallest child and surrounded by her relatives. Although her great-uncle's words had saddened him, he would follow the wise man's instruction.

When the sun was straight up, Wise Bird said to Tana, "We go now and stop at your cabin to leave supplies. Then we go far into red rocks to hide from soldiers." He reverted to his native language in speaking to her, then turned and glanced from Thomas to Tana and back again. A warm smile lit his aged features. "You good man for Tana. You make her cry."

Thomas heard Tana gasp and exclaim, "Uncle, how could you know–"

"–I dream."

The two of them stared at each other for long moments and then Tana asked, "Frannie?"

Wise Bird touched Tana's shoulder and again reverted to his native tongue. Thomas watched their interaction and when it ended, Tana laughed and said in English, "I should have known."

Wise Bird smiled at Thomas' puzzled expression. "Goodbye, my friend. Someday Tana tell you much about Frannie, my brother's wife."

#  33: Hospitality

It was almost dark when they reached the small settlement that Tana said had about thirty-five inhabitants from four families. Thomas lifted Amy off Stanton and they waited behind Tana as she knocked on the door of a cabin. A large woman cracked the door and then threw it wide open. She bellowed, "Hello, child. It's been a week of Sundays since I last seen ya!" She glanced past Tana to Thomas and Amy and her eyes widened. "Have you done got yourself a man and his child?"

Tana laughed. "Mrs. Burgess, I'd like you to meet Dr. Thomas Matthews and his daughter Amy. They came to me a few weeks ago because Amy was ill. They'll be returning to Globe soon."

A look of disappointment passed across Mrs. Burgess' face, but was replaced by another smile. "It looks like you done healed another one." She stepped sideways and made expansive motions with her hands. "Now where are my manners? Ya'll git in here and git comfortable. You've come a long way." Suddenly, she yelled, "Tator! Jimmy! Hank! I need ya'll in here!"

Almost immediately, three boys who looked to be triplets rushed from a back room. Mrs. Burgess said in her expansive voice, "Ya'll take care of Miz Tana and Dr. Matthews' animals."

Thomas said, "Ma'am, I can't put you to the trouble. I can–"

"–ain't no trouble a'tall! Why Tana saved my boys a couple years back when they got the fever. I didn't think they'd make it to their tenth birthday 'cause they was almost dead, so's I always do what I can for her. And since you're her man, I mean friend, I'll do for you too."

Before Thomas could protest further, the boys were out the door and Mrs. Burgess was insisting, "Ya'll just pump some water at the sink and wash up while I git the table set and vittles on it."

Thomas glanced at Tana and saw a twinkle in her eyes. He read her expression and knew protesting anything Mrs. Burgess offered was futile.

While Tana helped Amy wash, Mrs. Burgess said, "Mr. Burgess is at his brother's house down the road. With their passel of girls, they had to enlarge their place before the sides busted out. They got twelve girls now. Henrietta and Loretta is the latest set of twins. They was born a month ago and they got voices louder than mine." She laughed at her own joke.

Thomas said, "Your boys look so much alike I was wondering if they're triplets."

Mrs. Burgess paused in setting plates on the table. "They sure are. First Jimmy popped out, then Hank, and we wasn't surprised cause twins run in the family and I was as big as our barn, but when Tator—his given name's Timothy—made an appearance, Mr. Burgess almost fainted. A few years after the boys was born we had twin girls but the good Lord in his wisdom decided they was needed in heaven more'n here. They only lived a week but sweeter angels was never born."

"I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am."

Mrs. Burgess, about to plop another plate on the table, instead waved it in the air and replied, "I'm sorry for my loss, too, but we're God-fearin' folk and don't question the Almighty. He took our little angels, but he gave us twelve more through Mr. Burgess' brother. Four sets of twins in that bunch and we love 'em like our own. So the Lord takes and the Lord gives."

Thomas merely smiled and walked to the sink to wash up. He didn't agree with Mrs. Burgess' viewpoint, but he wasn't about to argue. He splashed his face and was drying off when the door opened and a man as large as their hostess stepped inside. The newcomer boomed, "The boys said Miss Tana and company was here."

Mrs. Burgess replied, "That's true, Mr. Burgess. And ain't this turned into a fine night to have supper guests."

"It certainly has, Mrs. Burgess."

Both Mr. and Mrs. Burgess were prone to ramble, but Thomas enjoyed the evening immensely. He learned they had pioneered their land about five years previous with a look toward the future when they built the general store next door. Mr. Burgess explained that their location was at the junction of crossroads, and although not heavily traveled as yet, they expected a boon of travelers because of westward expansion.

Mrs. Burgess interjected, "'Course we been sayin' that ever since we arrived."

Mr. Burgess patted his wife's hand. "It will happen, dear." While he spooned more gravy onto his plate, he said, "My dear wife loves socializing and since there's only us and three other families here, she gets a might lonely for church activities, town picnics, and the like."

Mrs. Burgess returned her husband's pat. "Like you said, Mr. Burgess, it will happen in time."

Tator, who was mopping up the remaining gravy on his plate with a biscuit, said, "I sure hope it happens soon so there's more boys to play with. I hate playing with girls 'cause all the boys 'ceptin' my brothers are too small to have fun with. Ech!"

Jimmy and Hank joined him in vocalizing their disgust until their father cast a dour glance in their direction. They immediately went back to cleaning their plates.

Thomas stifled a grin and changed the subject. "Where do you purchase your supplies, Mr. Burgess?"

"We get 'em from Flagstaff. Sometimes we travel there when we got an itch to get away, but mostly supply wagons stop by 'bout once a month. We get enough traffic to make a modest living from the miners and trappers, folks passing through, and the ones living in the wilderness like Tana. We also grow most of our own food and raise our own meat, but like I said before, we're hopin' this place will soon be settled."

After supper, Thomas joined Mr. Burgess outside and accepted a cheroot from the small case he opened and offered. The friendly storekeeper drew on his own cheroot, closed his eyes with a look of bliss, and then slowly exhaled the smoke. He said, "It's right nice to have a new face to enjoy a smoke with. Don't get me wrong, I got my brother and the other men to jaw with about politics, but we keep rehashin' the same old news. So, Dr. Matthews, tell me what's happening in Arizona Territory. Since my wife hates politics, I didn't broach it at the table."

Thomas stifled a laugh when Mr. Burgess leaned forward and grinned like a little boy about to hear something forbidden. Inhaling on his cheroot, he tried to remember all the juicy tidbits he'd heard while in Globe, and then fed Mr. Burgess' curiosity on the exhale.

#  34: Trust Me

Thomas stretched his neck sideways. He'd insisted on sleeping in the Burgess' barn and now he was paying the price. He decided he was getting soft after so many weeks in the bedroom Tana had insisted he and Amy occupy.

After a hearty breakfast prepared by Mrs. Burgess and an hour spent loading supply purchases onto their mules, they were now back on the trail and headed home.

Tana laughed. "Thomas, would you like me to realign your neck? You're making me hurt just watching you."

"Maybe that's a good idea." He called to his daughter, "Hold up, Amy."

Amy halted Stanton and turned around in the saddle. "Is it time to rest?" she asked.

"No, sweetie, I've got a kink in my neck that Tana is going to fix." He loped the lead to Petunia around a rock and looked back at Tana. He'd expected to see a smile on her face, but her expression startled him.

"Someone's coming," she said, and lifted her hands to cup her mouth. A moment later she made a bird call that was different from the one she had used in responding to her great-uncle.

Alarmed, Thomas said, "What is it, Tana?"

"I have a bad feeling."

Thomas reached toward his rifle in its scabbard, but Tana exclaimed, "No! That will get you killed." Her eyes pleaded with him as she said, "Please trust me."

Thomas hesitated, studied Tana's indigo eyes, and slowly lowered his hand. He saw her heave a relieved sigh and then she said, "Now, we wait."

Thomas heard a sound in the trees and turned to grab his rifle—to hell with Tana's warning. She rushed forward and placed a hand on his arm. "No," she whispered, as riders broke through the pines.

Three men surrounded them and Thomas knew they were in trouble. Silently, he cursed at himself for listening to Tana about the rifle.

A rangy, unkempt cowboy said, "Well, well, looks like we got a supply train." He pointed to the mules. "Pete weren't you just sayin' we was gettin' low on supplies."

"I shore was, Lefty."

"Well, why don't you and Clyde load up on what we need while I check out our female comp'ny."

The man named Pete nodded. "You got it. I hope they got some sweets."

The leader cocked his head and studied Tana. "Oh, they got some sweets all right."

Thomas stepped forward, freeing himself of Tana's grip. "Look, we don't want any trouble. Just take our goods and leave."

"Oh, we'll have your goods all right, but we ain't leavin' just yet." He removed his gun from its holster and pointed it at Thomas. He called, "Clyde, get the man's rifle and any other weapons he's got."

Behind him, Tana said softly, "Thomas, trust me. Do as he says."

Clyde dismounted, pulled Thomas' rifle out of the scabbard on Petunia and, while Lefty kept his pistol trained on Thomas, patted him down for weapons. He discovered the knife in Thomas' boot and jerked it free of its leather casing. When he rose, he lifted it and said, "What'd'ya want me to do with this, Lefty?"

"Keep it as a souvenir." Lefty returned his attention to Thomas. "Now that we have the knife and rifle, where's your pistol."

"I don't–"

Tana interrupted, "It's in there." She pointed to a saddle bag slung over Petunia.

Thomas couldn't believe Tana had just revealed the location of their only remaining weapon.

Lefty shifted his attention to Stanton. "That's a mighty fine gelding. I been wantin' to rid myself of this nag and looks like I found her replacement." He pointed to Amy and said, "Clyde, get the girl off the horse."

Thomas shouted, "No! I will! Don't touch her!"

Tana took a step toward Lefty. She needed to buy time. "If you allow the child's father to lift her down, I'll show you something of great interest. Something that will make these supplies seem insignificant by contrast."

Lefty shifted his attention between Thomas and Tana. He grinned and smirked, "Boys, did you hear them fancy words—in-sig-ni-fi-cant by con-trast. Now what do you s'pose this mite of a woman's got that we want?"

Pete said, "I can name somethin' fer sure and it's under her petticoats."

Tana stepped closer and Thomas ordered, "Tana, get back here."

Lefty moved his gaze to Thomas. "Shut up! I wanna hear what the lady has to say since she's got more guts than most men."

Tana said boldly, "Allow my friend to help his daughter off her horse and I'll show you."

#  35: Open It

Tana's gaze never wavered from Lefty's. She repeated her demand, "Allow my friend to help his daughter from her horse and I'll show you."

Something flickered in Lefty's eyes and she knew he would allow it. Although relieved, her expression did not change.

Lefty nodded at Thomas. "Git her off the horse."

The look Thomas gave Tana held both gratitude and anger. She knew his anger was because she had waylaid him from retrieving his rifle and then revealed the whereabouts of his gun. What he didn't know was that he would be dead by now if she hadn't done so. She watched him lift Amy to the ground. The little girl's lips trembled as she stoically tried to keep from crying. Tana's heart hurt for the child but she had to remain strong and focused.

Lefty leaned back in his saddle and eyed the length of her body. "Now, li'l lady, just what is it you got to show us."

Tana heard his comrades chuckle and Pete said, "Hey boss, ya want me to pull her in the trees and see what's under her skirt?"

Tana stared into Lefty's eyes. "Before you do that, I think you should see what else I have to offer."

Lefty's eyes widened. "Damn, but I ain't never met a woman like you. What else could there be that me and the boys want?"

"If you will allow me to approach the child, I'll show you."

Lefty was clearly befuddled. "Huh?"

Tana repeated slowly, "Allow me to approach the child and I'll show you. You have your gun pointed at me. If I try anything, shoot me."

Lefty said, "Well, I ain't never..." He glanced at his men. "Hell, boys, I gotta follow through with this. You agree?"

Pete said, "Shore do, boss."

Clyde said, "Go ahead and let her. If she tries anything, I'll shoot the kid's father."

Tana heard Amy whimper.

Lefty pushed his hat back and scratched his head. "Go fer it." He waved her forward with his gun.

Tana locked her gaze on Thomas' and barely mouthed the words, "Trust me."

Lefty motioned toward Thomas. "You! Step away from your girl."

Thomas looked from Tana to Lefty and back to Tana. She could see that he understood what she was about to show the outlaws. He slowly stepped sideways.

"More!" commanded Lefty.

He stepped farther away.

Tana now stood in front of Amy and called over her shoulder, "I'm going to ask the child to give me what's in her pocket. Believe me; it will make you do anything to keep us alive."

Lefty said, "Now this I gotta see."

Tana said to Amy, "Honey, I need the stone in your pocket."

Amy's eyes conveyed her trust. "Yes, Miss Tana." She reached into her pocket and withdrew it. Lefty urged his horse forward until he was beside them. Tana lifted the nugget wrapped in cloth from Amy's hand and offered it to him.

"What the hell is it?"

"Something men die for."

A glint of fear passed across Lefty's eyes but was replaced by cockiness once again.

"You're crazy, lady."

"Open the fabric and then tell me I'm crazy."

Lefty stared at Tana's outstretched hand for a long moment, shifted his gaze to his men, and then back to her. "If I don't like what I see, Pete's gonna shoot your man."

Tana replied, "I guarantee you will like what's in my hand."

Clyde said, "Hell, Lefty, the suspense is killing me. Open the damn cloth."

Lefty hesitated for a second, but then grabbed the stone from Tana's hand. He ripped the cloth open.

An eagle's call captured Tana's attention and she glanced skyward.

Lefty shouted, "Damn! Damn! Damn! We hit the mother lode, boys." He raised the huge chunk of gold for his men to see. The men moved closer for a better look.

Lefty eyed Tana. "Is there more?"

"There is."

"And you want to exchange your lives for gold."

"I do."

Lefty scratched his chin, cocked his head sideways, and studied Tana. "Lady, you got a deal, but just to even the odds..." He pointed his pistol at Thomas and fired.

#  36: Sowing and Reaping

Both Tana and Amy screamed and rushed forward as Thomas' crumpled to the ground. Bending over him Tana heard him moaning and gasping for air. He forced out the words, "It's...shoulder. Breathing...impaired...because of...pain...not because of...wound."

Tana said, "I've got to see it."

Thomas groaned when Tana helped him roll onto his back. There was a lot of blood and she started ripping her skirt for pieces of cloth to press into the wound. She briefly glanced at Amy to see the child holding her hands to her mouth trying to stop her sobs.

Lefty said, "I only nicked him so's he won't try nothin' whilst you lead us to the gold."

Tana glanced into the sky above Lefty and then toward the trees. Sadly, she said, "You and your men are about to meet your fate, Lefty."

Suddenly a screech rent the air and Lefty jerked his head skyward. His eyes widened, but before he could get his pistol aimed at his attacker, the talons of a powerful eagle clamped into his shoulder. He screamed and his gun fell to the ground.

Pete and Clyde's eyes rounded in horror as Lefty was dragged from his horse. Clyde recovered his senses and started to lift his rifle, but his arm was suddenly captured in the jaws of Warrior. Pete tried to aim his pistol at the wolves surrounding Clyde, but his hand was shaking so bad that he fired into the trees. He aimed again but the bullet went astray again. His terrified horse rose on its hind legs and he toppled off. Before he could scramble to his feet, a bear rushed from the trees and grabbed him.

When the attack had begun Tana had called Amy to her, and now she held the child to her breast. "Don't look, honey. It will soon be over." Amy whimpered and nodded against her. Tana met Thomas' gaze when his eyes shifted from the macabre scene back to her. She said, "This is sowing and reaping."

Thomas said nothing.

Tana closed her eyes tightly and placed her hands over Amy's ears. The screams grew fainter as the evil men were dragged into the forest and out of sight. Soon there was silence.

Tana opened her eyes to see Thomas sitting up with a dazed expression. She said, "Amy, I want you to sit beside your father while I gather the animals."

"Y-yes, ma'am." Amy opened her eyes just enough to see her father and scooted toward him.

The animals had scattered when the attack began and now Tana called to them by name. Soon they all returned and she retrieved Thomas' medical bag from Petunia, reassuring the mule that all was well. Beulah, Moses, and Stanton surrounded her and she touched each animal, comforting them and promising they would soon be home. The horses belonging to the outlaws stood just inside the trees, watching. Tana called to them and they trotted toward her.

Still in pain, but shocked by what he had just witnessed, Thomas watched Tana comfort the animals. Had the pain caused him to hallucinate the attack on the outlaws?

Amy's words were muffled against his chest, but he understood them. "Warrior and the wolves and the bear and the eagle saved us, Papa."

Thomas inhaled deeply, which shot pain through his shoulder, but also reminded him that he was still alive.

Tana returned with his medical bag and asked him how he wanted her to care for his wound. She followed his instructions precisely. The bullet had only grazed his body and for that he was grateful. Somehow he managed a smile and a smirk. "When we get home you can put some of that brown muck on it." He lifted his eyes to her face to see her mouth trembling. Raising his good arm he touched his fingers to her lips. "Tana there's only one thing in this entire world that will make me feel better right now."

"What's that?" she whispered.

"Your smile."

#  37: Mrs. Wilder

Ten months later

Thomas shifted his gaze beyond Mrs. Wilder seated on his examining table to stare blankly at the wall behind her. The elderly woman, a true hypochondriac, stopped describing her latest symptoms and sobbed. Thomas jerked his attention back to her.

Leaning forward and placing a hand on her shoulder, he said, "Mrs. Wilder, what's the matter? Are you in pain?"

Tears flowed down her cheeks and in a choked voice she replied, "Yes. But it's not in my body." She sobbed again, "It's in my heart."

Thomas wasn't sure how much he wanted to hear, but Mrs. Wilder was his patient and she was very distressed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She nodded and he reached into his pocket for his handkerchief. "Here. Dry your eyes while I pour you a glass of water. Then you can tell me all about it."

"Don't you have other patients waiting?"

"They can wait. This is more important."

She gave another pathetic sob and blotted her eyes.

Thomas stepped to a sideboard in his examining room and poured water from a pitcher while Mrs. Wilder composed herself. He handed the water to her; she sipped and returned it to him. He set it aside and waited.

Finally, she said, "Since my Henry died six months ago, I've been miserable. We were married forty years." Tears clouded her eyes when she said, "And I miss him so much I just want to go and be with him."

Thomas started to respond but she lifted her hand to stop him. "I need to say something."

He waited for her to continue.

"Henry and I rarely saw eye-to-eye about anything and...and...I didn't listen to anything he had to say. Eventually, he stopped talking about things that really mattered to him. You see, he was a cowpoke when we met. He loved riding the range. He loved living in the saddle, but–" she glanced down at her hands, "–but he loved me more. He became a merchant for me." She inhaled a shuddering breath. "He was a spontaneous man and often said, 'Let's go here, or let's go there.' He just wanted to visit a few places, and we had the money, but I always said no. After a long time, he stopped asking."

Thomas placed his hand over hers and waited.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Now I sit home alone and stare at walls. I imagine all the memories we could have made—all the memories I would have to comfort me now. But there aren't any. My only companion is guilt."

Thomas didn't know what to say. He thought about his dead wife and the memories that often made him laugh or cry, precious memories.

Mrs. Wilder turned her hand over and squeezed his. "Don't let that happen to you, Dr. Matthews. Don't become so set in your ways you shut out the ones you love. Make beautiful memories with your daughter, and if you marry again, with your wife. Really live and love and laugh with them, because all too soon, it's over."

Thomas lifted Mrs. Wilder's hand to his lips and kissed it. "Thank you, dear lady." After she left he sat in the examining room for a long time staring at the walls. The woman's confidences had solidified what he'd been feeling for months. Visions of Tana planted themselves in his mind and he knew more than anything he wanted to create memories with her.

He glanced around a room that reminded him of everything he and Ruth had dreamed of—his medical practice, a beautiful home in a community of friends—but now...now he wanted something different because people change. He had changed over the months since his return. He didn't want to be dogmatic in his medical beliefs. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with a woman whose touch held healing magic, a woman who could communicate with animals, a woman whose love was so great the animals would give their lives to protect her. He wanted to go on picnics in the red rocks and explore its secrets. He wanted to sit under the Spirit Tree and create elixirs with her. He wanted Amy to learn from her...he wanted to learn from her. He wanted to comfort her when she cried, and laugh with her over silly things. He wanted to have children with her so the legacy of her family would continue. He wanted every beautiful memory they could make.

#  Epilogue

He's returning, Tana.

Tana jerked awake. Frannie had been telling her the same thing for the past two months. And just as Tana had done when she was sixteen, she'd gotten excited, watched and waited every day. And just as before, no one came.

Tears dripped down her cheeks as she whispered, "Frannie, I miss him so much." She rolled onto her side and stared out the glass of her window. The spring day reminded her of the day Thomas and Amy had first arrived. In her mind she revisited every detail of their first meeting. Before she could sob, she sat up.

A soft sweet voice whispered in her ear. Trust me.

Tana spun around. "Frannie!"

The room was empty and silent, but Tana knew Frannie had spoken to her outside of a dream. A surge of happiness rushed through her. He was returning. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for years, but he would return and she would trust Frannie's words.

Later that morning after feeding, watering, and doctoring the animals, she sat in the center of the barn and sang the song Amy had taught her, raising her voice in thanksgiving to the Great Spirit who had blessed her beyond measure. The song lifted her into heavenly realms accessed only in music. Faintly, another voice joined her in singing Shenandoah and she gasped. The baritone voice continued, soon joined by a child's voice and then another child's. She ran to the barn entrance, scanned the trees, saw them, and started running again. Thomas dismounted Stanton and captured her in his arms. He twirled her around and kissed her with an intensity that promised a lifetime of happiness. "I'm never leaving you again," he whispered against her ear.

Finally, he set her back on the ground and motioned toward Amy on Petunia and a boy on another mule. He said, "Tana, not only do we have a daughter, but I've adopted this young man named Josiah."

Tana placed a hand over her heart. It was so full it wanted to burst. She said, "Welcome home, children."

#  Author's Note

For readers interested in knowing the real-life historical personages in this story, here is a listing in the order of mention or appearance: General George R. Crook, Curly Bill, Billy the Kid, Geronimo, U.S. Deputy Marshal Wyatt Earp, Ike Clanton, Jacob Waltz (The Dutchman), George Rothrock, and Captain William Wallace.

Most of the geographical locations are real and wonderful places to visit; however, I fabricated some of the trails. I did a lot of online research but I also visited Montezuma's Castle, Montezuma's Well, Fort Verde, Fort Apache, the Yavapai Trail (nka Apache Trail), Sedona, and Globe.

As for Sedona, the first time I drove through the red rocks, it was magic, and for a year my husband and I were fortunate to live nearby. About every two weeks we would drive to the monoliths to get our "Sedona fix." I was also fortunate to meet and become friends with a few Sedonians who introduced me to restaurants, trails, and wonderful places of interest.

One day, while driving toward the Village of Oak Creek ten minutes south of Sedona, the title for this book popped into my head: Healing Woman of the Red Rocks. For several months I listened to "whispers" from the hero and heroine revealing their story.

As I neared the end of writing the book, I got the idea to create a trilogy. However, this trilogy would be different from other series I have written. Rather than write the next two books in approximately the same time period (late 1800s), I would spread the stories over a few hundred years, categorizing them as past, present, and future.

I felt comfortable writing about the past and present, but challenged about writing a story that takes place way in the future. Another challenge was maintaining a western flavor for a future timeline. How could I do it? Well, I came up with an idea, but to reveal it would create a spoiler, and I hate spoilers. Suffice it to say, I believe I can pull this off. Books two (Song of the Red Rocks) and three (Spirit Tree of the Red Rocks) in this trilogy will be released in the summer and fall of 2015.

The website for Sharla MacIntyre's crystal elixirs is http://crystal-elixirs.com/.

#  Cry of the West: Hallie

Prologue: March 1866

With one arm around her eight year old son, Hallie Wells swiped her eyes with the handkerchief clenched in her other hand, trying to remain stoic. When men from her church began lowering her husband's coffin into his freshly dug grave she bit her lip until she tasted blood to keep from sobbing. She wanted to wail when the first pitch of dirt sounded on the simple wooden box.

Timmy, who had been so brave the past two days, turned into her side and buried his face against her bosom, his thin body shaking with gut-wrenching sorrow. Hallie's heart broke for her child who had loved his father dearly.

The pastor's wife placed a hand on Hallie's shoulder as Pastor Murdock said kindly, "Hallie and Timmy, it's time to leave."

Still clutching her son, Hallie turned slowly from the grave, but at the last minute paused to stare at her husband's coffin. She whispered, "I'll fulfill our dream, Thomas, I promise," and then released the sob she had been trying so valiantly to keep inside.

### 1: Finding Courage

The crackling fire usually so comforting on a cold night did little to dispel Hallie's anxiety. Staring into the flames, she took deep breaths and closed her eyes, but her mind refused any semblance of peace.

Tom, why did you have to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Why did fate send you to St. Louis on the same day as a tornado?

In the week since Thomas's burial, Hallie and Timmy mourned his loss, though in different ways. Usually outgoing and rambunctious, Timmy became reserved and quiet, while Hallie, hoping to still her fears for a while, weeded flower beds and scrubbed and cleaned the cabin that had been her home with her husband and childhood sweetheart for the past seven years.

Now, with Timmy in bed and her head drooping from exhaustion—sorrow, laced with fear of the future for her son and herself—could no longer be held at bay, and her tears coursed unhindered. That awful day when Pastor Murdock galloped to her farm with the sad news of her husband's demise replayed itself in her mind. The kindly pastor had tried to offer some consolation by explaining that Thomas, shielding a little girl from debris blown by the tornado and saving her life, was struck himself, and according to the deputy, most likely did not suffer since he never regained consciousness.

The thought of her sweet husband being so brave brought a fresh wave of tears, but for a few minutes Hallie allowed herself the unreasonable feeling of anger toward Thomas for dying and leaving her and Timmy alone. Her anger was soon replaced with self-pity because now they had nothing, all their worldly belongings having been sold a month earlier in anticipation of their upcoming travel.

Finally, with her anger and sorrow spent, Hallie inhaled a shuddering breath, stared into the orange flames, and resolved to find a solution to her dilemma. Methodically, she inventoried her predicament—she had no home, no employment, and practically no belongings. What she did have, however, was the reason for Thomas's trip to St. Louis. In his pocket were three tickets for passage aboard the steamboat Mirabella leaving in mid April from St. Louis to Westport Landing. She also had enough money to purchase a wagon, oxen, and supplies necessary to continue from Westport with the train headed west on the Oregon Trail.

You have more than that; you have the dream Thomas inspired.

For the first time in days, Hallie smiled.

Tom, your dream of adventure and new beginnings was infectious.

For a few minutes, she envisioned the land her husband had diligently researched—the Willamette Valley in Oregon. Even now, his enthusiastic voice rang in her ears. "It's the next best thing to heaven, honey. So beautiful it steals your breath away. We'll start a new farm with crops that fairly burst from the ground they're so happy at being sown. We'll build a home to last through generations. We'll have the adventure of a lifetime. Can't you hear the Cry of the West? Come on, Hallie, say you'll consider it."

A log popped, hissed, and crumbled, the sound bringing Hallie back to the present and crumbling her memory of that magic moment—but not her reply, which was the same today as it had been on that glorious day—"Yes, I'll go!"

Shoring up her resolve to continue onward to Oregon, Hallie determined that her next step was to hire a man to drive the wagon she'd purchase in Westport. She would have to budget carefully in order to pay him and the expenses of their journey, as well as the beginnings of her new life in Oregon, but it was all doable.

Finally, she dozed in her rocking chair dreaming of beautiful Oregon, a new state full of opportunity in this vast United States.

### 2: Unexpected Request

Cooper Jerome cursed and began walking the short distance from Jebson's Livery to Jebson's General Store so as to pass the time while his horse was being shod.

Dammit, Sweet Pea, why couldn't you wait until we got home to throw a shoe?

Cooper glanced at Vernon's Saloon and felt the pull of cheap whiskey. He wanted a drink—bad. So bad, in fact, his steps faltered and his courage wavered.

Bolstered with determination, he hastened his steps across the street and down the boardwalk to the store and saw Mrs. Wells enter with her son. He'd heard tell that her husband was killed in the tornado that hit St. Louis. He felt sorry for her, but she was young and would most likely find another husband—probably a widower with a few kids—and life would go on. She wasn't outright pretty, but she was passable.

He remembered meeting the Wells shortly after being discharged from the army and settling into the small farm he'd bought six months previous. Mr. Wells walked with a pronounced limp and a brace on one leg and Cooper wondered if he suffered from the ravages of infantile paralysis. As for Mrs. Wells, he'd never forgotten the color of her eyes—as green as the grass on Kentucky hills. One of the locals had introduced them outside of Jebson's store, the gathering place for local gossip and news. In fact, Toliver Jebson and a slew of brothers, sons, cousins, and other family members, owned just about everything in the small town of Jebson, twenty miles east of St. Louis.

After that first meeting, he'd transacted a couple of animal purchases with Mr. Wells when he'd bought a mule and some chickens to get his farm going.

Returning his thoughts to the present, Cooper knew the neighborly thing to do would be to offer his condolences. By the time he entered the store, however, Mrs. Wells had disappeared into the back room jammed with fabric bolts and sewing supplies. Rather than follow her into that part of the store, he decided to buy a case of shells for his twin Smith and Wesson six-shooters and wait for her to return.

* * *

Hallie pretended interest in a bolt of blue gingham while she tried to steady her rapid breathing.

"Ma, can I go see if Zack and Zeke are out back?" Timmy asked.

"Sure. Just don't get so caught up you don't hear me when I call."

"Okay, Ma."

Hallie breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't want Timmy overhearing her when she talked to Mr. Jerome. She'd seen the tall cowboy crossing the street toward the general store and then heard the door open when he'd entered. Her mind shouted, "Ask him!"

She'd met Mr. Jerome a couple of times before and later observed to Tom that he looked like a haunted man. Her husband had replied, "He's recently returned from the War of the States as a Union soldier and bought that ramshackle old Richardson place." He had sighed and continued, "That's what war does to a man, especially when its brother-against-brother." After that, Tom had pointed to his bum leg caused from a childhood bout with paralysis and said, "I guess something good did come of this. I didn't have to fight in a war and kill my fellow Americans."

Hallie heard Timmy call a greeting to Mrs. Jebson and then open and close the door as he went in search of his friends. Gathering her wits, she reentered the front of the store and bumped into Mr. Jerome when she rounded the door frame. Inadvertently, she gasped and placed a hand over her heart.

"Sorry, ma'am, I didn't mean to frighten you."

His voice was rich and deep and Hallie was suddenly tongue-tied. The man was so—she searched for a word—masculine: over six feet tall, with wavy black hair tied back with a leather strap and a face that seemed carved from granite with its angles and planes. Blue eyes that would make the loveliest shade for a dress stared at her above cheeks and jaws that hadn't seen a razor for days. She couldn't decide whether his looks favored that of an angel or a devil. Her courage almost failed, but then she remembered Tom saying that Mr. Jerome was a just and good man.

In a breathless voice, she said, "Hello, Mr. Jerome. You're just the man I wanted to see."

He gave her a questioning look. "Is that right?"

"Yes, sir. Do you suppose we could walk onto the porch? I'd like to discuss a proposition with you that is of a private nature."

Mr. Jerome quirked an eyebrow and Hallie turned scarlet when she realized the suggestive nature of her remark.

He stepped aside, motioning toward the door with his hand. "After you, ma'am."

Hallie prayed her heartbeat would slow down. If it didn't, she might faint.

Amidst curious glances from Mr. and Mrs. Jebson, they stepped out onto the boardwalk. She walked a few paces and then turned around, fisting her hands in her skirt. Just ask him. All he can do is say no.

Before she could speak, he said, "Mrs. Wells, I'd like to offer my condolences on the loss of your husband. He was a good man."

"Thank you, Mr. Jerome. Yes, he was a very good man. He also said that of you." She paused considering how to proceed. Mr. Jerome's blue eyes and intent stare unnerved her and muddled her thoughts. She grazed her teeth over her bottom lip.

"Ma'am, please say whatever it is that's troubling you."

It's now or never. "Um, I'm not sure if you heard that Thomas and I sold our farm and just about everything we own, including the animals. For years, he wanted to move west. It was a dream that eventually became my dream as well. We purchased a reservation with a wagon train headed out of Westport next month. The money we received from the sale of our property was for the purchase of a wagon, oxen, supplies, and also to hire hands to help with the building of our cabin on one hundred acres that Tom bought in the Willamette Valley in Oregon." She'd spoken the words in a rush and ended with, "The new homeowners are taking possession soon. They've been accommodating since Tom's death, but they sold their own place and need to move in."

Hallie watched Mr. Jerome furrowed his brow. After a long silence, he asked, hesitantly, "So, what is it you need from me?"

* * *

The expression on Mrs. Wells' face wasn't giving Cooper a good feeling. She wanted something and he definitely had the notion he wasn't going to like what it was, especially when she couldn't meet his eyes.

Unexpectedly, her emerald gaze stared directly at him and his gut clenched, and when the breeze blew a stray lock of her light brown hair across her forehead, he almost moved his hand to tuck it back under her bonnet.

"Mr. Jerome, would you be interested in driving my wagon to Oregon? I would pay you well."

Cooper blinked, forcing himself to look away from the pleading in her eyes. "Uh, well, ma'am..." He glanced back. She looked like she was about to cry. "Uh, ma'am, now that would take me away from my place through planting season and harvest, and longer." He dreaded her expression if he flat out refused.

"I would pay you whatever you would make during harvest and more." She blinked and brushed at a tear that kept welling up in one eye. "Mr. Jerome, I'm desperate. I have no home. I have no husband. I have no family to turn to. I have a young son to care for. And I have very little time to prepare before departure. The wagon train leaves the end of April. Believe me, if I were capable of driving the oxen myself, I would do so. But, as you can see, I am neither large, nor strong. I fear I would kill myself and my child. Besides, I doubt the train master would even allow me near the team after he saw me crack a whip." She gave a pathetic smile at her attempt at a joke.

Cooper forced his eyes away from hers and glanced down the street at the big SALOON sign. He wanted that drink. Stalling for time, he removed his Stetson, slapped it against his thigh, replaced it, scratched his neck, and finally met her gaze again. "Give me some time to think about it."

Her joyous expression transformed her face from plain to pretty. Dammit, Cooper. Just tell her no and walk away.

* * *

After thanking and excusing herself from Mr. Jerome, Hallie went back inside the shop and finished making her purchases. Then she stepped to the outside wall of the general store to call down the narrow alley for Timmy.

"I'm comin', Ma."

While she waited for her son, she couldn't stop the surge of hope that kept trying to break free. Since Tom's death her emotions were in constant turmoil, worrying about the future for her son and herself. Life without a husband was not easy, especially if one were destitute of a home. Mr. Jerome had said he'd ride out to her place in a couple of days with his answer.

Glancing down the street she saw him exit the livery and mount his horse. He was a big man and the thought of him driving the oxen and protecting her and Timmy on the five-month journey filled her heart with hope yet again.

Timmy rounded the corner of the building yelling goodbye to Mr. Jebson's sons and holding a lizard firmly, but gently, in his grasp. He looked up and smiled. "See what I found, Ma."

Hallie ruffled his blond hair, a shade lighter than his father's had been, and smiled.

Timmy eyed his mother. "Ma, you okay? You look kinda...happy, again."

"I'm feelin' better. How about you?"

Timmy sighed. "Yeah, I'm feelin' better, too." He paused. "But I sure miss Pa."

Hallie knelt and hugged him. "We're always going to miss him, son. But we have to go on."

Two days later, as promised, Mr. Jerome trotted his horse to the front of her cabin. The nervousness that had been giving Hallie stomach trouble for days now started her heart pounding furiously. What would she do if he said no?

* * *

Cooper glanced around the tidy yard surrounding Mrs. Wells' cabin. Beds of climbing roses twisted their vines up the posts and lattice of the porch, promising a burst of color and fragrance any day now. His gut twisted. He was going to tell her that he wouldn't be accompanying her on the Oregon Trail. Hell, it had only been a short time since his return from the nightmare of war and he'd dreamed of farming his own land for years.

Refusing to let his thoughts drift to the things he had seen and done in that God awful war, he turned his attention to the front door opening.

Mrs. Wells greeted him with a shy smile and his gut twisted some more. "Good afternoon, Mr. Jerome. Please come in and have some tea."

Cooper wanted to blurt a refusal of the tea, decline his assistance in driving her wagon, and gallop the hell away from her green eyes.

"Thank you, ma'am. That would be right nice."

He followed her inside. The cozy atmosphere fairly reeked with a woman's touch. She motioned to a large table in the center of the room.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Jerome. I also have oatmeal cookies just out of the oven. Do you like oatmeal cookies?"

Cooper saw her wring her hands together. She was as nervous as he was. "I like them very much."

She smiled, waited for him to sit, and then rushed to a sideboard, pouring a glass of tea and placing cookies on a plate. Bringing her offering to the table, she set it in front of him and then sat down across from him.

Cooper removed his hat and stowed it on the chair next to him. Mrs. Wells said, "Oh, where are my manners? Let me hang your hat on the hook by the door." She started to rise.

"Don't worry about it." He shot a hand out to stop her and immediately wanted to curse when he saw her eyes widen at his touch. He jerked his hand back and lifted a cookie. "Aren't you having one, too?"

Still flustered, she said, "Oh, not now. I always eat pinches of cookie dough while I'm baking. By the time they come out of the oven, I'm too full to eat any more."

She bit her full bottom lip, something Cooper decided was a habit when she was nervous, and he quickly glanced away. This was becoming more difficult by the second. He said, "Looks like we might get some rain this afternoon."

Mrs. Wells didn't respond and he glanced back at her. She wore a sad expression.

"You've come to decline my offer, haven't you, Mr. Jerome?"

Damnation! Don't look at me like that. "Uh, y..."

The door burst open and her boy ran in. "Howdy, Mr. Jerome. Are you takin' us to Oregon?" he asked loudly.

Cooper looked at the scrawny, tow-headed boy with a dirt-streaked face and cowlicks sending his hair in several directions, and his heart dropped to his feet. The boy reminded him of...

Mrs. Wells said, "Timmy, it's very rude to interrupt grownups by bursting into a room. As for Mr. Jerome accompanying us to Oregon, he said–"

Cooper interrupted. "I said, yes. I'll be driving your oxen and making sure you're settled in your new place." He glanced at Mrs. Wells' rounded eyes and wondered when he'd lost his mind.

Timmy shouted, "Yes! Thank you! Thank you!" He ran to his mother and hugged her. "Oregon—here we come!"

Cooper looked from the boy to his mother just as two big tears slid down her cheeks. Quickly, she swiped them with her apron and returned her son's hug. "Timmy, you go feed the chickens while Mr. Jerome and I discuss the particulars of the move."

"Sure, Ma." He looked at Cooper and grinned, showcasing a missing front tooth.

After the boy slammed through the door, Mrs. Wells asked, "Why did you change your mind? Was it Timmy?"

"Yes, ma'am. But it's not something I want to explain."

"Then I'll not ask you to."

An awkward silence filled the cabin.

"Um, ma'am, why don't you tell me everything you can about your scheduled departure time, so I can make some plans?"

#  Novels and Novellas by Verna Clay

CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

Western

Romance on the Ranch Series

Dream Kisses

Honey Kisses

Baby Kisses

Candy Kisses

Christmas Kisses

Rock Star Kisses

Forever Kisses

Forgotten Kisses

Angel Kisses

The Last Kiss

Oasis, Arizona Series

Stranded in Oasis

Branded in Oasis

Crashed in Oasis

Paranormal

Finding SOMEWHERE Series

SOMEWHERE by the Sea

SOMEWHERE to Spend Christmas

SOMEWHERE for a Hero to Hide

SOMEWHERE to Begin Again

SOMEWHERE to Fall in Love

HISTORICAL ROMANCE

Unconventional Series

*Abby: Mail Order Bride  
Broken Angel

Ryder's Salvation

Joy's Return

*2014 Gold Medal Winner Readers' Favorite Int'l Book Contest

Historical Romance

Finding Home Series

Cry of the West: Hallie

Rescue on the Rio: Lilah

Missouri Challenge: Daisy

Red Rocks Trilogy: Past Present Future

Healing Woman of the Red Rocks (Past)

Song of the Red Rocks (Present)

Spirit Tree of the Red Rocks (Future)

Journeys of the Heart Novellas

Violet's Vindication

Priscilla's Pride

Samuel's Sacrifice

FANTASY ROMANCE

Shapeling Trilogy

Roth: Protector (Book 1)

Fawn: Master (Book 2)

Davide: Prince (Book 3)

Jazmine

YOUNG ADULT ROMANCE

(Verna Clay writing as Colleen Clay)

Fragile Hearts

AUDIO BOOKS

Abby: Mail Order Bride

Broken Angel

Cry of the West: Hallie

Dream Kisses

Honey Kisses

Baby Kisses

SOMEWHERE by the Sea

SOMEWHERE to Spend Christmas

SOMEWHERE for a Hero to Hide

LARGE PRINT PAPERBACKS

SOMEWHERE by the Sea

SOMEWHERE to Spend Christmas

SOMEWHERE for a Hero to Hide

SOMEWHERE to Begin Again

SOMEWHERE to Fall in Love

