get impressions, and whatever he did see made him smile, showing off his gold tooth. She went to him and hugged him, too. She used to think Grandfather was so tall, like Father, but now she was nearly his equal.
“Grandfather, I missed you.”
“You are a woman now, Ella. Strong and beautiful, Joseph’s true daughter.”
“I hope this is so.”
“Can you eat?” Grandmother asked.
“I’m starving.”
“Inside with you.”
The walls were painted white, better to show off the collection of woven baskets that surrounded the combination living and dining room. A threadbare rug covered part of the planked floor, and a bow and arrow perched over the stone fireplace.
Ella inhaled the luscious aroma coming from the stove and sighed—the memory of Grandmother’s cooking kicking in. “There’s no bison stew as good as yours.” Her mouth was already watering.
“I made a corn pudding and baked pumpkin, too. And blueberry Wojapi to go with the fry bread.”
As they ate, they caught up on the missing years, concentrating on the positive rather than dwelling on the dark past that sent Ella, her mother and sister, Miranda, fleeing to the white world. A past from which her mother had never recovered. The grandparents wanted to know every detail about Ella’s work as a teacher of history, especially of their history.
“We have your book on the table by the couch so everyone who comes here can see it,” Grandmother told her.
“Your father would be proud of you,” Grandfather said. “Your returning to us shows that you are as fierce a warrior as he was.”
Ella’s pulse fluttered and her chest tightened. “Not fierce. The movie interested me…I couldn’t resist. A couple of weeks here seemed perfect.”
The grandparents exchanged looks that told Ella they didn’t accept that. Believers in fate, they would assume her presence had been guided by her animal spirit. While the film had delivered her, they would be convinced she was here for something more.
When they finished eating, Grandfather went outside to sit and to puff on his pipe, and Ella began clearing the table.
“It is so good to have you home, Ella.”
“Only for a few weeks, Grandmother. Only for the movie. This isn’t my home anymore.”
“This is where you are needed.” Grandmother hesitated only for a moment before saying, “We have no shaman. No one will practice here after what happened to Joseph.”
“I’m not a shaman.”
It is time…whispered through Ella’s head, but she instantly denied it.
Time for what? To give the people hope? Or to give hope to herself?
Ella pushed back the confusion. She reminded herself that she was just here for a summer job.
“Please, Granddaughter, the people need a spiritual leader. Do it for your grandfather and me—for your father—so that the legacy of the elders continues.”
The plea got to Ella—Grandmother had never asked anything of her before. While Ella remembered the tenets of her father’s beliefs and powers, she wasn’t sure she could actually execute them. Furthermore, even if it was something she wanted to do, she feared what might happen if she tried. She’d shut herself off from calling on the elements for fifteen years because Father had proved using abilities people didn’t understand was too dangerous, and she wasn’t about to embrace the danger again.
Still, having to deny the elderly woman made her feel bad. “I can’t help anyone, Grandmother. I am no medicine woman. And I don’t know if I remember enough of what Father taught me.”
“Talk to Nathan. He remembers.”
The tight, scarred skin on her arm twitched and Ella smoothed the cotton sleeve covering it. Part of her thanked her cousin for saving her. Part of her blamed him for letting her live burn- and memory-scarred.
Pausing a few seconds, she then asked, “So Nathan turned his back on shamanism?”
Grandmother nodded. “He has other interests that concern our people.”
“What kind of interests?”
“He’s become an activist. He’s part of First Nation.”
Ella knew about the long-standing activist group First Nation—a group that believed the Lakota should withdraw from all treaties with the United States and should reclaim the Paha Sapa for The People. Paha Sapa—the heart of everything that is—otherwise known as the Black Hills, Ella thought. Father had taught her the mountain held great power that needed to be respected. She knew that three decades ago, a federal court had agreed that in taking the land to mine gold in the 1870s, Custer had broken the treaty. The court had awarded the Lakota money that had now amassed to nearly a billion dollars. The Lakota were unwilling to trade their rights to the land for money. They didn’t believe in buying or selling the earth they walked upon.
Ella said, “I don’t think the U.S. government is ever going to give the land back to The People.” Her band was lucky to have been awarded a small reservation on one edge of the mountain, a lush piece of land compared to Pine Ridge, the next closest reservation on the Badlands.
“No. But I fear what First Nation might do to reclaim land they believe belongs to us,” Grandmother said. “We don’t need more war. Poverty and disease already take their toll on The People. What we need is someone who can heal the ills, not increase them.”
Doing the dishes gave Ella time to consider Grandmother’s words, as scary as it was for her.
Why had she come here if not to get involved with The People? an inner voice asked. Her working with the movie company and then coming back to the rez just to sleep would prove nothing.
She needed contact…knowledge…closure.
She needed to know the real reason that Father had died.
She needed to find the villain who was responsible and see that he was punished.
Chapter Three
Early the next morning, Ella left the house for her SUV, ready to head out to the film set and meet with Jane Grant. They’d only spoken on the phone or via e-mails, so she was a little anxious to get together with the producer in person. She was about to open the vehicle door when she sensed interested eyes on the back of her neck.
Turning, she locked gazes with a man standing just behind her. His eyes were dark and he had long black hair, a braid in the front decorated with strips of beading and feathers. His features had matured, his body filled out, but she had no doubt as to his identity. She remembered what Grandmother had told her about him the night before. Her stomach tightened as she nodded to her cousin.
“Nathan.”
His
