The Painted Pony Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine


While Jamie is in the kitchen getting more coffee together for their guests, she listens to the retelling of some funny details of life before modern technology. Jamie enjoyed the congenial banter, but her mind tried to sort through Courtney’s off the wall behavior. It seemed she always went against the grain.

Sheriff Hale’s appearance drew her back to the present. “Thought you might need a hand,” he said loud enough for the others to assume that was his mission. He pulled Jamie to the far corner of the room, effectively, out of the earshot of the others.

“Be careful of Courtney. Watch your back where she is concerned. I know she’s connected to those we suspect are involved with the marijuana grow. They’ve all been on our radar for a while. Getting evidence –rock solid evidence is the hard part. You could be in a lot of danger, just because of Courtney’s involvement.”

A chill surrounded Jamie and then faded. “She’s my sister. Courtney wouldn’t…” That lie refused see the light of day. Jamie remembered other times when that wasn’t true, not even slightly. When it interfered with what Courtney wanted, no one and nothing was off limits. “I’ll be careful. Do you really think these men or people are dangerous? I mean it’s just marijuana. “

Sheriff Hale’s look turned incredulous, and his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “It’s illegal.”

“I didn’t mean—I mean-- I know it’s illegal, and sometimes leads to the need for stronger drugs. I really only wondered how important this was to whoever is growing it.”

"Money always speaks loudest. Louder, even, than family or clan connections."

Deep inside Jamie knew what Sheriff Hale meant with everything else in a slump economically—always quick and easy money makers hedged the bets for those who could make it work. "Thank, I'll be careful."

"Well I better get back to doing my job before somebody thinks I'm asleep at the wheel."

Sheriff Hale said his goodbyes—the gaiety of a few minutes before seemed to follow him out the door.

"I better go tend to cattle business and see if there's anything else these guys need from me." BJ plucked his black cowboy hat off the hook by the door.

I thought the good guys wore white hats.

"Glad to see you're back home Jamie, really." BJ flashed her that infectious smile that threatened to make her like him.

She smiled back. Would liking him be a bad thing?

"I'll help you unload your trailer when you're ready."

BJ was turning into quite the gentleman. Maybe his arrogance was all in her perception. "Appreciate that. It can wait until tomorrow." Besides with all the commotion over the grow BJ had more pressing things to attend to.

Jamie picked up empty coffee cups and dessert plates to take to the kitchen. Ben followed with creamer and sugar containers. Soon, they had the kitchen and dining area back to normal order.

"I think I'll grab a few minutes of a catnap a 'fore I begin supper."

Ben looked so tired. Jamie wasn't at all surprised. The tranquil ranch atmosphere had been shattered of late. Not just the marijuana grow, the cut fences, missing cattle, life had taken on an edge Ben wasn't used to and Jamie didn't like.

"I think I'll do the same. It was a long drive and now this." Jamie brushed perplexion and angst away with fluttering fingers toward the outside.

"I'm sure sorry missy." Ben's face furrowed with age old concern.

"It's not a reflection on you Ben. It's just a sign of the troubled times we live in." She gave Ben a hug. "You go rest. Ther4e's nothing you could have done differently."

"Hell, missy, I wouldn't a knowed it was anything but a new kind of weed, if I had seen it."

Jamie kissed Ben's cheek. "I know, go rest."

Ben's referring to the grow as weeds nearly made her laugh. How our language has changed. Words morph into whole new meanings before we can say…

Jamie made her way down the hall to her room. It was more than a room, more like a suite in a grand motel, she mused as she opened the door. It had signatures of her from an earlier time. The shelf with her American Girl collection gathered dust, she would remedy that in short order. It was only now she remembered the painted pony. He was part of her collection of American Girl props, and now—how odd. Is that why she saw the vision of—no, she had led Jamie to the Elder's council fire. She was real. She had followed Jamie back to the ranch.

The ribbon shirt that waited for her at the council fire with the elders hung in her closet now when she opened the door. The ribbon shirt form her youth, revived and looking brand new. Hers had long since been relegated to the storage room in the attic, she thought and then remembered. The shirt, faded, the ribbons ready to come free from the cloth. She had kept the shirt boxed, but with her in college. Then it disappeared in one of her many hasty moves.

The ribbon shirt, this ribbon shirt, was brand new, an exact replica of the old. Jamie brushed a hand lovingly over the shirt. Memories stirred in her. She took the shirt from the hanger and hugged it to her. She could hear the heartbeat of the drum and the singers as if they were in the room with her. She walked ot the window where the view of the LaPlata Mountains rose in an ever changing panorama as shadows from the clouds raced from west to east. The mountains held mystery and intrigue for Jamie. As you can never step in the same river twice, you never see the same mountains twice.

They represented both protection and isolation, comfort in their strength, but danger as well. Mountains, obstacles, or barrier to the onslaught of the uncivilized trouble filled world. As Jamie stood admiring and contemplating all the ways those mountains had influenced her, the painted pony trotted into her line of vision.

Jamie startled, mesmerized by the pony's grace and beauty. Protector or bearer of a summons from her ancestors? Did the elders call, wanting her to follow the painted pony again?

What would the elders say about the illegal grow? What would her father say? Jamie slipped into the ribbon shirt and quietly slipped out of the house so as not to disturb Ben. As she walked to the barn Daisy darted to the paddock where Jamie usually saddled her. Do horses have their own silent language? She never heard a whinny or a snort, no vocalization from either horse, but here was Daisy. Perhaps, Daisy saw her coming and with all the commotion wanted to run to dispel her agitation. Jamie looked up as she saddled Daisy and led her out through the corral gate. Daisy waited impatiently while Jamie closed the gate. No one else appeared. She reasoned the hands were with BJ and or the FBI agents securing the grow field.

Jamie searched the landscape for the Painted Pony. She reared, catching Jamie's attention and Daisy's too, as Daisy danced impatiently, waiting to be nudged into flight. Jamie gently, nudged her heels into Daisy's sides and tipped the reins touching Daisy's left side of her neck. Her response was immediate and spirited. Daisy took a couple steps to the right and then broke into a gallop. Jamie saw the Painted Pony strike out ahead of them.

Daisy seemed to know her target and Jamie was a passenger to a phenomenal experience. She never doubted for a minute where her journey would conclude. She could already smell the council fire and hear the drums. The hills blurred into a mist shrouded valley. Suddenly, as quickly as she started Daisy bounced to a straight-legged stop. Jamie saw the elders around the drum and the council fire.

The Next Chapter - Painted Pony

The Painted Pony, Chapter Five

Jamie sat in her office feeling like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. What was Courtney involved in that made her so hateful?  It was hard to imagine the poverty and disruption on the reservation since she had last visited. When her father was alive none of this was going on, now…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a customer entering the store. Herbal tonics and information seemed to be much in demand today. Maybe it wasn’t just her world that was in serious need of intervention, of fixing. The interaction with customers allowed her mind to be consumed with their problems instead of her own. It was lunch time before she realized it. 

If she hoped to have her friend take over the business for the next month so she could go back to the reservation and try to help correct what was happening, she needed to do that today.   Donna had expressed an interest in doing just that for some time now, it would be a good opportunity for her to really get involved and decide if she wanted to open her own store as part of Jamie’s chain. The other managers could handle what they had for a month. They had already proven that to Jamie’s satisfaction.

Donna greeted her with a cheerful hug and hello. “So you need to go home for a while.”

“Actually, I call this home. But I do need to go back to Ignacio to take care of some business. I hope I will be back by Christmas.”

“Wow, that’s over a month. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure if you want to take over the store for me for that long.  It will give you some real experience and help you decide if you want to buy into a franchise with me or not.”

“That it surely would. I am convinced, I already want to. But I’d love the chance to prove I can do it to myself and you.” Donna smiled a kind of faraway glaze came into her eyes.

“Why do I feel like a but, is coming here?”

Donna turned toward her and didn’t answer right away. Her pearl gray eyes seemed even more far away as if she was reading through Jamie. 

“What, what is it?”  Jamie felt a cold sweat start in the palms of her hands. Donna had a tendency to be clairvoyant and while it was part of their attraction to each other it sometimes made Jamie very nervous. What was her friend seeing now that Jamie had failed to see about this whole situation. 

Enjoy - until  next time, I hope it won't be so long.  Mean time think about Donna - how does she fit into this mix, does she see something that Jamie doesn't -- is it possible there is more to the whole than it's collective parts so far? 

Billie

Chapter Four The Painted Pony

Watch For The Raven

Sitting in the old ranch kitchen with Ben, watching him work his magic with the fry bread he'd made especially for her, the world's petty troubles seemed far away and her father closer than ever. She missed him so much. Ben was as close to a second father as any could be, and they were a lot alike. Jamie could appreciate this now. 

"…Nephew comin ta hep out. Get the place ready fer winter 'n all."

Ben's smooth, mellow voice lulled her with its cadence. Nephew? Her mind grabbed the word and she pictured the lanky pain in the patoosie she remembered from earlier times. His flaming red hair, from his mother's side of course—those eyes that seemed to rivet people to the ground they were standing on. Menace, not a help, her mind said. She never really gave much thought to Ben's having relatives as they rarely visited when she was there growing up, or except for that red-headed nephew they were part of the woodwork, so to speak. She pretty much thought Ben appeared from thin air one day and was the total package, as in no relatives or significant others. 

"That'll be nice for you. Are you planning to stay the winter then?" He always had, but he looked so frail she couldn't help but wonder if maybe he should think otherwise this year. 

"Always have. Wouldn't know what else ta do. Not really inta skiin' Aspin or Vale, but love the winters here." 

Maybe his nephew could talk him into leaving. Winters here were tough even for the able bodied.

There was a short rat-tat tat on the door before it burst open and Courtney blew in like a Diablo wind. Courtney didn't acknowledge Ben as she brushed by him, spun a chair from the table so the back faced the table and straddled it in one flash move. Not giving Ben or Jamie a chance to squeeze out a word. She grabbed a piece of fry bread and tore a piece off to shove in her mouth. She looked like a painted hussy to Jamie. 

"So—how long you sitckin this time til the dust of desert sand sticks in your citified hair and you beat it to civilization again?"

Taken aback by her sudden appearance and tart manner, Jamie paused to drink in the full spectrum of a sister she no longer knew, indeed, if she ever did. Before she could respond there was another knock on the door. She and Courtney turned to see who this might be.

Ben's nephew removed his hat before he stepped over the threshold. "I'm here, Unc. " He slid by his uncle as he spotted Courtney and Jamie. After letting out a low whistle and said, "and who are these two visions?" He replaced his black hat on his equally black, full-head of hair. His blue eyes riveted Jamie to the spot. Courtney recovered way quicker than Jamie as she eyed the cowboy from his boots all the way to his six foot plus, to the crown of his hat. Courtney slithered from her chair and extended her hand. "Courtney," dripped from her overly painted lips. "Puleezed to welcome you to my father's house."

The tall stranger's eyes never left Jamie. Oh, cue the music. Jamie could feel soap opera drama smothering the scene. 

"B.J. Archer, meet Courtney and Jamie. They be Jim's daughters." Ben had closed the door and stood beside the mesmerizing BJ.

Jamie found her voice. "Hi and welcome. I hear you've come to help Ben winterize the ranch."

"Don't tell him, but I really just came for some of his vittles. Ya can't get food like this at Mc Donald's."

The air lightened with laughter, like the sunshine after a thunderstorm. Jamie's insides felt scrambled. Ben pulled plates out of the cupboard for all of them and Jamie helped him prepare to serve his meal to the sudden explosion of guests, while Courtney entertained blue-eyed BJ. This couldn't be the gangly teen she remembered, no way.  From the size of the kettle of beef stew, Jamie was certain he was expecting BJ before he showed up at the door.

Through dinner Courtney monopolized the conversation and BJ, though he kept his attention focused on Jamie. Jamie could fee his eyes on her. It made it hard for her to eat. She wished she could read minds. Especially, his mind. She also wished Courtney would evaporate or sink into a black hole and quit embarrassing herself and everyone else with her brash and distasteful swooning over BJ.

~*~

Later, much later, after Courtney had finally left and BJ retired to the bunkhouse, Jamie mulled over the impact both Courtney and BJ had had on her. Courtney was nothing but a big flirt and tease. If Damien caught her she would be in a world of hurt. Why she didn't leave that jerk Jamie couldn't figure out. He was trouble with a capital T and her dad knew it. Once Courtney turned eighteen there was no reasoning with her or stopping her.

Jamie tried to brush aside Courtney, BJ and the day to get her mind back to the council fire and the mission that seemed to be calling her. The Painted Pony had escorted her back to the ranch, but he couldn't be coaxed in for grain—she wasn't about to be corralled or confined, obviously. She never had the opportunity to ask Ben about The Painted Pony. In the morning she'd be sure to. Sleep seemed to come over her like Grandmother Nokomis pulling one of her handmade quilts over her. "Yes, morning was soon enough to ask question," Nokomis seemed to whisper.

 Watch for the Raven (Old cover will show - but the new cover, posted above, will be on the book you receive.)

Chapter Three The Painted Pony

Let's catch up with Jamie and her encounter with Courtney and see where we will be going from here. (Please keep in mind this is raw an rough and needs editing and polish - but thoughts come quickly some mornings and need to be captured before they get away.)

Chapter Four

A molting Blue-Jay dropped in front of Jamie to pick up some seeds from the open field. His neck looked too scrawny to hold his head up and his head and neck were totally featherless. It tugged at Jamie's heart strings. The striking colors and crest of the Jay was no longer his. As vain as he normally is, shrieking his loud "thief, thief; Thief!" He was muted, hungry and very nervous. It reminded Jamie how the Great Spirit Sometimes brings lessons to a person. Sometimes very subtle but often like a smack upside the ego, just as Mr. Blue Jay's vanity was certainly rebuffed or at least shown how quickly everything can change.

Being called to the council fire shook Jamie deep into her roots. She had neglected family and tribe since her father died. Her sister, Courtney, was not her responsibility and she couldn't tolerate her attitude since she joined the Spiral Edge Band and began living with Damien Westerly. As though their father, James Two Cloud's death had set her free, like a race horse at the sound of the starting pistol, nothing could stop her, reasoning wouldn't reach her. She was hell-bent on a path of destruction and Jamie felt so powerless and hopeless.

Jamie's father was not about to let Jamie loose from her responsibility to family, but what else was Courtney tangled up in besides drugs and or alcohol since she gravitated to this band? How did it affect the tribal youth and traditions mentioned at the council fire?  Jamie's head hurt from trying to sort it all out. She should start by talking to Courtney, if she would even listen to Jamie.  The Painted Pony nuzzled Jamie as if to say let's get moving. She was not at all sure she wanted to ride this phantom horse. Well, okay, she wasn't a phantom, but she seemed to have powers Jamie knew nothing about.

Suddenly, thundering hooves jolted her back to the spot she stood on.  Dust kicked up to invade Jamie's space. Courtney reined in the fiery-eyed black stallion and glared at Jamie. "Stay out of my life. Go back to your big city life and leave me alone."

"Wait Courtney, I haven't even seen you in two years. I'm not meddling in your life." Jamie stared at the gaunt frame of her sister as she sat astride the agitated beast that couldn't seem to stand still. Courtney's make up was overdone and apparently left over from the night before as it was smeared and half-gone. Courtney looked like a train wreck and sounded even worse.

Without replying, Courtney spun the horse around and charged back the way she had come. The Painted Pony snorted and pawed the ground.

First, how did Courtney know she was at the Rez, and exactly where she was? Second, why did she think Jamie had any thoughts of meddling in her life? She withdrew from Jamie and family, when she turned eighteen and never looked back. Perhaps it's time she looked into her little sister's life. Something was horribly wrong.

                                                                          New Cover

The Painted Pony Chapter Two

Our story now continues...

 

She wasn't prepared, how could she have been, it had been so long since she had been involved with her roots, except  for her belief in the powers of her holistic health, of course that was based on native traditions of well-being and healing.

Seven gray heads sang and drummed in the rhythm of her heart beat. She felt the tug from her youth. The painted pony grazed in the lush grass behind the council fire, undisturbed, peaceful, apparently satisfied that she had done her task. 

Jamie saw now that task was meant to bring her home. All she needed to know was why? Her grandfather motioned for her to join them. A spot had been left for her to sit, the ribbon shirt Nokomis had made her for graduation from high school waited for her as well as white deer skin moccasins. Jamie slid silently from Daisy's back and allowed the horse to back away. Daisy wouldn't go far as long as there was good grass for her to feast on. Jamie allowed the horse's reins to slip from her grasp, and then allowed thoughts of the horse to slip from her mind as she moved toward the council fire circle.  

Picking up the ribbon shirt, Jamie pulled the shirt over her head and dipped her toes into the cool, supple, tanned leather of the moccasins. She quietly took her position in the circle between her father and grandfather. It was an honor and privilege to be included here. She knew instinctively something powerful had been given her by this inclusion, but it was going to come with a price. What mission would she be asked to begin? Was she enough for the challenge?

Why this council of elders invited her pulled questions in her mind, as well as, the thought of the distressed child—where was she? Or he, but Jamie knew it wasn't a male child. How she knew that she couldn't understand, but that she knew that the cry was female that was certain in her mind. There was no sign of her now. Unless…Was she that missing girl child? Was the summons her own voice calling her home? She let the drum center her as she allowed her worrisome thoughts to disappear in the smoke of the council fire, rising for the Great Spirit to dispense with.

Slowly, Jamie focused on each face around the council fire. Most of them she remembered seeing before. Current and long ago they had traveled that strawberry path to the beyond; members of high honor in the Lakota Sioux tribe sat singing in powerful but soft voices. Remembering what the words meant came as easily as if she had been at her last pow wow yesterday instead of years ago.

She knew she was summoned and she knew the reason would be apparent soon, but Jamie needed the patience she had allowed to be stolen from her by the hurried world of city life. It had eroded from her being like the banks of a river. Sometimes the traditional ways infuriated her, but there was no rushing the elders. "Mistakes are made in a hurry; haste makes waste; race to error, repent in leisure."  The words tumbled from her mind as if spoken by the elders now observing her.

When the drums grew silent and the singing faded away, peaceful silence enveloped the gathering before Chief Lone Feather spoke. His voice crackled with age as he began but soon gathered an even resonate timber, a melodious cadence warmed his words as he spoke. Jamie sensed the graveness of the meeting the council was to address. The message soon found its way to his voice. Tribal values, ties to the Great Spirit and Mother Earth begged for intervention. The Chief's comments were directed toward her. The challenge was hers. As daughter of a lineage of chiefs, the council was convened for her and needed her help –with what? She knew her answer was in the troubled faces of the elders. She felt so small and inadequate. She straightened her shoulders and spine. If she was called, she must, if she could, give whatever it took to help her people.