the mental subject, he ordered himself. Now. Do not think about Laurel Windsong. Think about…yes, the robberies at the vacant summer homes.
He’d phoned the sheriffs over in Flagstaff and Prescott on the off chance they were dealing with the same type of crime wave. Both men had said things were quiet on those fronts. It had been a long shot anyway, would have meant that a very sophisticated group was casing an extremely large area of the state to establish which homes were empty during the fall and winter.
No, he thought, this was his problem and whoever was doing it was from Willow Valley or the rez. As much as he hated the truth of that fact, that was the way it was. They were taking things that were easily moved. Televisions, VCRs and DVD players, computers, hunting rifles and ammunition, even microwave ovens.
Why? The stuff wasn’t worth much when sold in a dark alley somewhere. It was big risk for small return, which indicated that it was probably kids, teenagers who were bored and out for a thrill that would mess up their futures when he caught them.
And he would catch them, no doubt about it.
He was, Ben knew, bouncing back and forth between thinking it was one person pulling this off and several who were urging each other on. Whichever was the case, they would make a mistake and he would get them. Oh, yeah, he’d get ’em.
And then tears would flow and hopes for the future would be shattered and lives disrupted for all time.
A sudden image of Laurel appeared in crystal clarity in Ben’s mind.
“Yeah, well,” he said wearily, “there’s a lot of that going around. Decisions are made and pretty puzzles get ruined with no way to put them back together again.” He paused. “And, damn it, I’m talking to myself again.” He shook his head. “Maybe I should get a dog.”
Laurel stomped into the busy kitchen at the Windsong Café and crossed the room to stand next to her mother, who was frying hamburgers and steaks on a large grill.
“One more person,” Laurel said, planting her hands on her hips. “If just one more person asks me if I’m going to cut my hair, I’m going to scream the roof down.”
Jane smiled as she flipped hamburgers over with the ease of many years of experience.
“You knew it would happen tonight, sweetheart,” she said, glancing at Laurel. “I would think you’d have prepared yourself for the fun and games.”
“I thought I had, but this is really ridiculous,” Laurel said.
“No,” Jane said, laughing, “this is Willow Valley. Some things don’t change. The love of juicy gossip is one of those. The locals have waited four months for something—anything—to take place between you and Ben, and it finally did. I’m sure he’s getting the same nonsense thrown at him as you are.”
“He has it coming,” Laurel said. “He’s the one who opened his big mouth. And I still don’t understand why he did it in the first place.”
“Don’t you?” Jane said, giving her daughter a meaningful look.
“Goodbye,” Laurel said, walking away. “I’m not discussing this further. I have customers to keep happy.”
“Goodbye,” Jane called, laughing again. “Or rather, hagoonee, to show off my expertise in speaking Navajo.”
May, who was a short, plump woman in her early sixties, took a pie from one of the ovens and set it on a cooling rack.
“Laurel is all in a dither, isn’t she?” she said, smiling.
“Yes,” Jane said, turning over several steaks on the grill. “Oh, I do wish she and Ben could work out their differences, but ten years is a very long time.”
“Not when it comes to love.” May laughed. “Jane, remember when we’d take the babies to the park? We’d spread out a blanket and watch them wiggle and reach for each other. There was Laurel, Ben, Dove and my Joseph. Cute as buttons, every one of them. My goodness, how the years have flown by, haven’t they?”
“Yes, they certainly have,” Jane said as she served up the hamburgers and steaks.
She carried the plates and red baskets to the pickup ledge in several trips, called for the waitresses waiting for the orders and returned to look at May again.
“Think about it, May,” she said. “My Jimmy is gone and so are his parents and mine. Dove’s folks were killed in that tragic accident so many years ago. Ben lost his mother and father in that flash flood.”
“And Joseph’s father flew the coop before Joey was even born.” May shook her head. “I’m glad we don’t have crystal balls to see into the future or we’d wonder what the point of it all is. Well, Joey is happily married and spoils his two kids rotten, and I’m grateful for that.” She paused. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me yet why Laurel suddenly came home from Virginia.”
“I’m sorry, May,” Jane said. “I promised her I wouldn’t say a word.”
“That’s fine. I can wait until she’s ready. There’s a sadness in her eyes, though, that breaks my heart, and I don’t believe Ben Skeeter has been truly content since Laurel left all those years ago. And Dove? Oh, bless her heart. She had such plans to go to college and study journalism and ended up staying on the rez to raise her twin sisters and her brother. Seventeen years old, she was, and put aside all her dreams to care for those youngsters after their parents were killed.”
“Dove has done a fantastic job with her siblings,” Jane said, preparing hamburger patties. “Wren is married and has a baby. Robin is studying nursing over in Flagstaff. Eagle is a senior in high school this year. Once he graduates, it will be Dove’s turn to live her life the way she wants to. Finally.”
“But will she?” May said, pouring corn-bread ingredients into a large bowl. “Dove is very organized and set in her ways. I suppose she had to be to take care of those kids, but I can’t help but wonder if she might just keep on as she is after Eagle graduates. You know, live on the rez in that little house where she grew up, write for the paper now and again, make her rugs and what have you to support herself. I don’t believe change will come easy to Dove now.”
Jane shook her head. “Oh, wouldn’t that be a shame if Dove… Goodness, I don’t even want to think about that happening.”
“I felt the same way about you after Jimmy died,” May said.
“What?” Jane said, looking over at her dear friend.
“I was so hoping that in time you’d marry again, have more babies. But here you are doing exactly the same as when Jimmy was standing next to you. He wouldn’t have wanted you to be lonely, Jane, you know that.”
“I’m not lonely,” Jane said. “I’m very satisfied with my life the way it is.” She shook her head. “I just had this conversation with Laurel. What is this? Let’s-marry-off-Jane-Nelson-Windsong week?”
May laughed. “Whatever works.”
“Oh, hush.”
“Just one more thing,” May said.
“Hmm?”
“Is
