White Water Page 5

  Kara zipped her duffel bag shut and hurried down the stairs. At the bottom, she hesitated when she heard voices in the kitchen. Maybe she shouldn’t interrupt. Besides, she couldn’t talk to Anne if someone else was around. She started to turn around and go back to her room, but Dad’s voice caught her attention.

  “Then you think I should tell her now? I wish I could be sure she will understand.”

  “Wakara is wise for one so young, but you must follow your heart.”

  Kara stood there stunned. Dad and Anne were talking about her! What did she need to understand? And why all the secrecy? Was this what had Dad and Colin acting so weird? She hesitated. Part of her wanted to run back to her room and forget what she had heard. But if something was wrong, she needed to know about it.

  She turned toward the kitchen door just as Dad stepped out carrying a bundle of papers in one hand and a dingy brown, canvas-covered book in the other. When he saw her standing there, a flicker of dismay crossed his face. “Wakara.” He shifted the papers to his other hand. “How much of that did you hear?”

  Anne appeared in the doorway and shot her a reassuring smile. Kara decided to be honest. “Just the part about you not wanting to tell me something because you’re afraid I won’t understand, but Anne thinks I will.”

  Dad nodded. “I hope so.” He motioned her into the kitchen. “We received a package from your grandfather today. He asked me to read the material, then give it to you.” He nodded at Anne. “Would you please make a pot of decaf? This might take a while.”

  It might as well have been a double espresso, Kara thought an hour later as she took the bundle of papers and the canvas notebook up to her room. She would never sleep tonight anyway. She tossed her great-grandfather’s journal on the bed, stared at her reflection in the mirror, and repeated her given name, “Wakara Windsong Sheridan.” Her Yahi name.

  She lifted the charcoal drawing of her great-grandmother from the wall, held it up next to her own face, and compared the features. Eyes and nose, the shape of her chin and brow, were identical. The first Wakara was certainly her ancestor. But Kara had always thought her great-grandmother was Nez Perce. Great-grandpa Irish had written a letter saying he had found the infant Wakara in the woods near a Nez Perce reservation. She had always believed that. But now, if what Dad and Grandpa had read in Irish Sheridan’s journal was true, almost everything she thought she knew about her namesake was a lie.

  THE BEAT OF A BOOT-STOMPING country song shocked Kara into awareness. She groaned and fumbled for the off switch on her radio alarm, then squinted at the digital clock. Six o’clock. She had fallen asleep around midnight, after reading the first couple pages of Irish’s journal. It hadn’t made much sense to her, but she knew that was because she’d been so upset and tired. She wanted to read it again, but this morning they were leaving for Eagle Lodge, and she wouldn’t have time to do anything but last-minute packing.

  She looked at the clock again, then reached for the telephone on her nightstand. Tia’s parents had insisted she go to school today, so Kara knew she would be awake.

  Tia picked up on the third ring. “What’s up?”

  Kara flinched. Her friend had gotten a telephone for Christmas, complete with caller ID. Kara wasn’t sure she liked it, but that didn’t matter now. “You aren’t going to believe this, Tia, but remember the pages from my great-grandfather’s journal? The ones that came with Irish’s drawing?”

  “Of the first Wakara? Sure, why?”

  “They’re bogus, Tia. A fake.”

  “What? You’re kidding, right?”

  Kara shook her head even though she knew her friend couldn’t see. “I wish.” Her throat tightened, and she swallowed back the tears. “I know it’s stupid, but I feel betrayed; like Great-grandpa deliberately lied to me.”

  She went on to tell Tia about the journal and papers Grandpa Sheridan had found in the old trunk in Aunt Peg’s garage. “I’ve only read the first few pages, but in his letter Grandpa says the journal entries prove the version on the other pages was a lie, and that Irish didn’t want anyone to know about Wakara’s true background. He says the motive is in the journal too, but he won’t tell me any more. He says he wants me to read it and figure it out for myself, then maybe I’ll understand.”

  “Wow! You’re bringing it, aren’t you? We can read it at the lodge.”

  Kara had to smile. Tia was the one who’d been there for her when she’d first discovered the name Wakara was not Nez Perce, as she’d always believed. Anne had insisted “Wakara” was a Yahi word meaning moon, and Tia had dug up research to prove her right. But knowing that had only deepened the mystery around her great-grandfather’s words. Why had he told everyone the baby he’d found in the woods was Nez Perce, when he knew she wasn’t? If he lied about that, how much of the rest was a lie?

  “Earth to Wakara! I gotta go, Mom’s rattling my cage to get ready for school, and I still have to finish packing for tomorrow. Bring the journal, okay?”

  Kara sighed. “Don’t worry, I will. Oh, I almost forgot. Grandpa still wants to read the paper you wrote on the Yahi-Yana tribes. He’s still looking for something and thinks your research might hold the key—whatever that means. Could you mail it to him?”

  “Are you kidding? I mailed it yesterday. It’s halfway to Arizona by now.”

  By the time Kara got downstairs, Dad and Ryan were finishing breakfast. Dad studied her face. She must not look too upset, because he looked relieved, then smiled. “Good morning, Sugar Bear.”

  “Morning, Dad. What time is everyone leaving?”

  Dad took a swallow of coffee and looked at his watch. “Soon. I still have to contact the ranger station, then file a flight plan. Shouldn’t take long.” He looked at Ryan. “You ready to go, Tiger?”

  Ryan gulped down his orange juice and jumped up from the table. “Yeah. Kara helped me pack my bag last night. I’ll go get it.” He raced out of the room before Kara could tell him to slow down. She sighed, then realized Dad was looking at her again.

  “Thanks, Wakara,” he said. “I really appreciate all you do for Ryan.”

  Kara felt uncomfortable. She knew Dad was grateful for her help. He didn’t have to keep telling her, but this morning it did feel good to hear him say something nice.

  She helped herself to scrambled eggs and stuck a piece of bread in the toaster. When she sat down, Anne handed her a mug of coffee. “Thanks, Anne. Do you need any help?”

  The cook shook her head. “No.” Then she smiled. “It is only for one week.”

  Kara grinned back. “True. Wait until June.” It was a lot more work getting ready to be away for three whole months. Last year, Anne hadn’t been hired until they were already at Eagle Lodge. The supplies and gear had already been packed up and delivered by then.

  Dad picked up his dishes and carried them to the sink, then turned toward the mud porch and lifted his jacket from a hook. “Bud Davis and Floyd Carlson will be here with the stock trailers around ten o’clock. Greg and Colin should have the horses ready to go by then.”

  Kara felt a surge of excitement. The big stock trailer was on loan to another rancher who was taking an entire herd of cattle to auction. It would take two of the smaller trailers to transport six horses to the trailhead. Kara had actually ridden Dakota that distance last winter, but that was an emergency, and she wasn’t eager to do it again. Instead, she and Greg and Colin would ride into the valley from Pine Creek Meadow. It wasn’t an easy ride, but at least it was a trail.

  “I’ll get out there as soon as I’m finished,” she promised as Dad opened the door.

  He hesitated. “The boys will handle it. You see to your brother and help Anne. I’ll let you know when we’re ready to go.”

  Kara nearly dropped her fork. “What about Lily?”

  “We’ll handle it.” He was gone before she could say anything else.

  Kara sat there, stunned. She’d always helped with the horses, whether she was riding in or not. And Dad had just heard b
oth Anne and Ryan say they were ready to go. No way did they need her help. “Anne?”

  The cook was staring out the kitchen window, watching Dad walk to the barn. Kara jumped up and stood behind her. “Anne!” Kara knew her voice had risen about six octaves, but right now she didn’t care. This time her eyes were dry; she was too scared and angry to cry.

  “He is troubled.” Anne turned from the window and put her arm around Wakara’s shoulders.

  “Why! What have I done?” She couldn’t keep the fear and disappointment out of her voice. She felt like everyone was betraying her—even her own father—and that hurt so badly she could hardly stand it.

  The woman led her to a chair, then sat beside her. Kara could tell she was uncomfortable, but if Anne knew what was going on . . .

  “It is not what you have done that troubles him, but what could be.”

  Kara shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

  Anne sighed and reached for Kara’s hand. “In some cultures, a father sees a young man’s feelings for his daughter and locks her away until the bride price has been paid.”

  Kara scowled. “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “In this culture, fifteen is young to be a bride. Your father does not realize it, but he is locking you away.”

  “Locking me away?” She shook her head. “I don’t get it. I’m not even dating anyone. The only boys I ever see are Greg and Colin.”

  Anne said nothing, just squeezed her hand, and suddenly Kara understood.

  “Colin?” She felt like her face was on fire. “But he’s never . . . I mean I like him, but we’ve never even gone on a real date.”

  Anne smiled. “It is in the way he looks at you. Your father sees.”

  “And he’s trying to keep me away from him.” Kara felt a chill of anger. “That’s not fair. Colin hasn’t done anything wrong—he wouldn’t, and neither would I. I thought Dad trusted me.”

  “A father’s love is not always rational.”

  Kara looked up at her, astonished. “You mean he’s punishing me because he loves me? Right!” She took a deep breath. Get a grip, Wako, it’s not Anne’s fault. Her throat grew tight, and she made herself choke back the tears. “That’s just great; now what do I do? I wish Mom were here!”

  The words were out before she knew she’d said them, but she realized they were true. If Mom were here, Dad wouldn’t be acting like this.

  “Yes.”

  Anne’s voice was so soft Kara almost missed it. Then she blushed. “Oh, Anne, I’m sorry. Thank you for telling me. I was beginning to think Dad hated me, but I’m not sure this is any better.”

  “Shall I talk to him?”

  Kara shook her head. “No. I guess I’d better do it. If he’ll give me a chance.”

  The door slammed and Ryan rushed into the room, panting like he’d run a mile. “Kara, Anne, come on, the trucks are here and they’re getting ready to load the horses.”

  Kara flinched. “I’ll be right there, Ry.” To her relief, he turned around and ran back into the yard.

  She picked up her bag and was on the back porch before it hit her. Colin likes me, and we’re riding into the valley together! That thought made her stomach flutter all the way to the barn.

  The horses, including Lily, were already saddled and loaded into the trailers. Kara set her bag at the end of the walkway for Dad to take with him on the plane. Dad and Colin were standing by Mr. Carlson’s truck, and Greg was already in the front passenger seat of Bud Davis’s Land Rover. She headed for Mr. Davis’s rig. No sense in making things worse by trying to squeeze into the truck with Colin.

  “Wait a second, Wakara.” She turned to see Dad walking toward her. “Here.” He handed her a small paper bag. She opened it and held up a small canister that fit easily into the palm of her hand. “Pepper spray? What’s this for?”

  “When I talked to the ranger station, they told me there has been some problem with bears this spring,” Dad answered. “Be sure and aim for the eyes. This packs a pretty good sting and blinds them long enough for you to get out of the way.” She must have looked as nervous as she felt, because Dad laid a hand on her shoulder. “I doubt you’ll need it. Colin and Greg each have one. Put Lily in the middle and stay with the others. You shouldn’t have any trouble.”

  Kara shivered. “I hope not. I’ve seen all the bears I want to see for a while.” On impulse she put her arms around Dad and hugged him hard. He kissed the top of her head, and when she moved away, he said, “Be careful, Sugar Bear. Remember everything you’ve been taught and you’ll be fine.”

  She nodded and climbed into the backseat of the Land Rover. It wasn’t until they were almost to the end of the drive that she realized Dad’s words of caution could have a double meaning.

  THE TRAIL WOUND DOWNWARD, SNAKELIKE, narrow, and steep for the first few miles. They had to ride single file, which didn’t leave much opportunity to talk, but that was fine with Kara. She was still too confused about Colin’s and her relationship, not to mention Dad’s reaction to it. She knew by the way that Colin had been avoiding her that Dad had warned him off. The more she thought about it, the more it made her mad. Dad had probably insisted she ride in the middle not just to keep her safe, but so that she couldn’t talk to Colin. He was in the lead and trailing another horse, which meant he could hardly turn around in the saddle to carry on a conversation. And Greg was bringing up the rear. Was he supposed to be the watchdog and keep an eye on them both?

  She tried to distract her thoughts by studying the scenery. Most of the snow had melted, revealing a graveyard-like landscape with the skeletons of blackened trees scattered over acres of burned-out land. Where brush and wild rhododendrons once fought for space beneath the fir and juniper trees, a hint of green blanketed the damp, bare earth. When she looked closer, she could see tiny white wildflowers dotting the new grass like tie-knots on a hand-stitched quilt.

  Kara took a deep breath of the clean spring air. New growth—new life. It was so amazing how quickly the earth was restored, even after something as devastating as a wildfire.

  Colin pulled Dakota to a halt when they reached Otter Lake. The small basin was once again full of water from the melted snow, and Powell Creek ran fast, but shallow, dissecting the trail just below the lake. Colin stopped there to let the horses get a drink, then moved on across the creek. Kara let Lily drink her fill, then followed Colin to the other side.

  “Are you watching this?” Colin tipped his hat back from his forehead and nodded toward the creek.

  Kara heard Lyman snorting and Greg muttering under his breath as he tried to spur the skittish Arabian into the water. The horse behind them stood placidly, waiting for the lead mount to make up its mind. Kara tried not to laugh as Greg and his new horse wrestled it out. But Lyman was stubborn. Greg couldn’t let go of the lead line, so he finally dismounted and led both animals across the creek.

  “Keep it up and you’re dog meat!” Greg slapped his hand against Lyman’s rump, then remounted. The horse gave a little buck in protest. Greg stood in the stirrups, then plopped down hard into the saddle. The Arabian tossed his head once, then walked forward, placid as a little lamb.

  Kara and Colin both gave in to laughter. Colin winked at her. “I’d call that a draw, wouldn’t you?”

  Kara shook her head. “I don’t know. Something tells me Lyman thinks he’s won.”

  “This time.” There was a hint of a threat in her brother’s tone, but he patted Lyman on the neck. “We’ve still got some work to do, don’t we, boy?” He grinned at Colin and Kara. “All right, you guys, the rodeo is over. We’ve been at this for over three hours, and we’re almost there. Let’s get on with it.”

  Colin tipped his hat and turned Dakota down the trail. Kara sighed and fell in line. She had warned Greg that that horse would be a handful, but she could see how attached Greg had already become to him. It might take a lot of work to train Lyman, but Kara knew she would do the same as Greg.

  When Eagle Lodge came
into view thirty minutes later, they could see Dad’s plane, with the brown-and-green logo on the side, still standing on the landing strip. The tractor was parked close to the tail section, where Anne and Ryan were pulling out luggage and hefting it into the small trailer for the quarter-mile trip uphill to the lodge. Ryan saw them coming and waved.

  Kara watched as Ryan tried to wrestle a heavy duffel bag into the trailer. “Where’s Dad?”

  Anne looked up from her chore. “He is making repairs.”

  Ryan finally shoved the heavy bag over the side of the trailer. He wiped his hands down the legs of his jeans, then ran over to Greg and patted Lyman on the neck. Kara expected the horse to shy. Instead, he leaned into Ryan’s hand like a contented pup.

  “Dad’s fixin’ the door to the storage shed,” Ryan told Greg. “It’s all broke down, and I bet I know what did it.” He lowered his voice to a mock whisper. “I’m not s’pose’ to say in front of Kara, but there was claw marks all the way to the roof. Boy,” he shook his head, “that must have been one big ol’ bear.”

  Kara shivered and nudged Lily into a trot. When they got to the barn, she helped Greg and Colin unsaddle the horses. Lily and Dakota went eagerly into their stalls, but Lyman balked at the narrow entrance, so Greg led him to one of the outside stalls built along the back of the airplane hangar. They were right off the corral, so Lyman still had the three other horses they had lead in for company. He sniffed out his new domain, then settled down to munch his pile of hay.

  While Colin filled three five-gallon buckets with water and set them in the stalls, Kara filled the trough in the corral. The horses drank thirstily after the long ride, and Kara couldn’t wait to quench her own thirst. “I hope Anne brought lemonade,” she said as they took turns washing their hands under the water spigot. “I think I could drink a gallon by myself.”