Breaking Free: A Colorado High Country Crossover Novel, Pamela Clare [i can read book club .TXT] 📗

Chaska grinned, gave Jason a friendly jab on the shoulder. “I’ll pick you up at about three this afternoon, brother.”

“I’ll be there.”

Chapter 22

While Grandpa Belcourt cleaned the sweat lodge and prepared it for the ceremony, Jason threw more logs on the fire, the stones that would heat the lodge beneath the blaze. So far, the old man had barely spoken to him, but Jason knew the whole point of his being here was so that they could have a private conversation.

“Chanupa. That’s our word for the pipe. It’s wakan—sacred.”

Jason repeated the word. “Chanupa.”

Grandpa chuckled and set leather pouches of tobacco, sage, cedar, an old drum, an eagle-bone whistle, and his sacred bundle on the small, earthen mound that served as an altar between the fire and the sweat lodge door.

The lodge, a low structure with canvas and blankets fastened to a frame of willows, was built up the mountainside above the old wolf pen in a small clearing that overlooked Scarlet. Two tipis—one for men and one for women—stood on the edge of the clearing, giving people a place to change before and after the ceremony.

Grandpa sat on a nearby bench. “You’re a hard worker. Tell this old man about your family, your people.”

Here we go.

While Jason tended the fire, he gave Grandpa Belcourt his life story, holding nothing back. His parents’ murders. His brief descent into drinking and drugs. His life with his grandparents and learning the O’odham himdag. His job with the Wolves. His grandmother’s death. The promise he’d made. Elena’s arrest. His upcoming hearing.

As he’d done at the hospital, the old man listened intently, never interrupting, not even to ask questions. When Jason finished, Old Man nodded. “You have already walked a long, hard road with many twists and turns—just like the maze on your arm.”

Jason glanced at his tattoo. “You know the meaning of the Man in the Maze?”

Grandpa chuckled. “We old people share stories at the pow wow.”

That made Jason laugh. “Right.”

“This promise you made your grandmother—what words did you say to her?”

Jason thought about it, trying to remember the exact words. “I promised never to leave the O’odham people.”

Grandpa nodded. “A promise is a sacred thing. So is the love of one’s half-side.”

“Half-side?” Jason hadn’t heard that expression before.

“Naomi is Chaska’s half-side, and he is hers. Two people meet and find they were always looking for one another. They are two halves of one whole.”

Jason felt the truth of those words to his bones. “If both things are sacred, Grandfather, how can a man choose between them?”

“You must pray on this today, for it’s clear to these old eyes that my granddaughter loves you and you love her. She called for you, not her brother. You are her safe haven now. Remember that Creator doesn’t lead us to dead ends. We do that to ourselves. Creator gives us choices.”

Jason bit back his frustration. If there was a compromise here, Jason didn’t see it. Winona wanted to live near her family, and Jason couldn’t blame her. He could see how close they were. But he’d made a promise.

“Tell me about the rest of your family.”

Jason tossed more wood on the fire. “I have three older sisters scattered around the country and seven nieces and nephews. I never see them. My sisters left me in Sells and never came back. They married non-Natives, and they’re not raising their children in the O’odham way.”

“This makes you angry.”

“Yes.” It was the truth. “They abandoned me. I was still a boy when they left.”

“How about in Sells or over on the Mexican side—aunties and uncles?”

“Not any longer. They’ve all passed. I am the last of my family still on the land.”

Grandpa seemed to consider this. “It could be that it’s time for you to break free of your anger toward your sisters so you can consider your path in a new light. Be certain you’re not making decisions out of resentment toward them. These matters deserve careful thought.”

Break free of his anger? How would that change anything? And why did Grandpa think Jason would make decisions based on resentment toward his sisters?

Grandpa Belcourt was as cryptic as Jason’s grandfather had been.

The sun was close to setting now, and the others had arrived—Chaska, Gabe, and Doug, Naomi’s father, who would be driving back to Pine Ridge with Star and their kids in the morning.

Jason left the fire, walked to the men’s tipi with the others to change.

Chaska pulled off his shirt, exposing the Sun Dance scars on his chest. “Have you been to an inipi before?”

“One of my fellow Wolves is Lakota, so, yes, I’ve been to a few.” Jason stripped naked, put on his swim trunks, and wrapped a towel around his hips.

“I was hoping you’d say this was your first.” Gabe picked up his towel. “Old Man Belcourt goes easy on newbies.”

Grandpa chuckled, dozens of Sun Dance scars on his chest and back. “Are you complaining that my lodges are too hot?”

“Too hot? No. Never.”

The others laughed.

They walked together to the lodge, Chaska removing his wedding band, setting it on the altar, Doug and Gabe doing the same. If the inipi was hot enough, metal could burn. Gabe also removed his prosthetic leg and left it on the altar.

Then, one by one, they dropped to their knees and crawled into the lodge, Old Man first and then Jason, followed by Gabe and then Doug. Chaska remained outside to assist by handling the hot stones, using a steel shovel to pass them into the pit at the center of the lodge. Then, at last, Chaska entered, sitting to the right of the lodge door.

Sage. Cedar. Sweet grass. Smoke. Heat.

Then the door went down, the darkness total.

Jason willed himself to relax into the rhythm of the inipi.

The hiss of steam on hot stones. Scalding heat. The cry of an eagle-bone whistle. The beating of Old Man’s drum. Voices raised in song.

Jason didn’t know the songs, so he turned his thoughts inward, thanking Creator for