Healing Trace (15 page)

Trace
was more interested in what was happening inside the truck parked beside them
when Brody exited the vehicle and reached inside the cab for Joan. Jealousy
fueled him as Joan scooted to the edge of the seat, and Brody picked her up by
the waist and stood her on the ground. Whatever Brody said left Joan smiling.

The
wispy, pastel green sundress fluttered around Joan's legs. She'd left her hair
loose, lying over her bare shoulders. His breath caught in his chest. Opening
his door, he stood in place letting his leg get used to the weight after the
ride. A primal urge to push Brody away from Joan hit him hard.

Instead,
he limped past the group, ignoring Joan completely, and disappeared inside the
community center.

***

Joan
frowned, watching the swinging of the door where he'd disappeared behind.
"Is he okay? Maybe I should go check on him. He's not used to walking
around this much in his new cast. His leg might be hurting him."

"He's
fine." Brody placed his hand on Joan's back and led her in the same
direction. "These celebrations stress him out, but he'll survive. He find
a corner and bide his time, the way he always does."

Joan
followed, entering the dance in time to see Trace do exactly what Brody
predicted. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip. Why did he put himself
through the pain of returning to the life that had treated him worse than
garbage?

Brody
wound his way through the crowd, stopping several times to converse with people
he knew. Joan used the next few minutes paying attention to what was going on
inside the room. Only searching for Trace when Brody stopped to chat, but she'd
lost him in the throng of people.

Men
played drums in the corner of the room, and women hustled around carrying
plates of food and taking care of young children. She tapped her foot to the
music, waiting for Brody, who'd turned his back to her and was hugging a Lakota
woman.

"Joan?"
Brody swung around. "This is my younger sister, Shelly."

The
woman's smile matched Brody's happy expression. Shelley was petite and had the
round face of someone who had spent most of their life laughing.

She
held out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Shelly."

"Brody
says you're living at Lakota ranch, taking care of Trace." Shelley leaned
closer. "Is there any hope that you will fall madly in love with my
brother?"

Joan
laughed. "I'm afraid we spend too much time picking on each other, we'd
drive each other crazy by the end of the week. Has Brody always been a
joker?"

Shelley
rolled her eyes. "Yes. He's always been a pain in our butts. That's why
we, my sisters, are looking to marry him off. We're afraid he'll grow old and
move back with one of us."

"Hey…you
love me. Everyone does." Brody folded his arms and stuck his chin up.
"I won't believe any differently."

"That's
the problem. We need to find someone who loves you more than yourself."
Shelley patted Brody's cheek. "Your ego is too big, brother. The extra weight
is going to make you fall on your face one day."

Brody
pulled Joan away from Shelley. She laughed, enjoying the sibling teasing. Her
and Katie had the same kind of relationship. They understood each other, and
they always found something to laugh about when they were together.
God,
Katie, I miss you.

"Come
on, let's dance." Brody pulled her out in the middle of the room.

She
stood in shock, not moving. "I don't know what to do."

"Watch."
He hopped from one foot to the other. "Listen to the base drum
sound."

She
studied him, swaying back and forth. The others were forming a circle and Brody
stepped back to join in. She gazed around her, stuck inside the chain of
people. A moment of panic consumed her. Not one who had much coordination, she
always shied away from dancing.

Waiting
until Brody worked his way around the perimeter back to her, she cut in between
him and another man. They each grabbed onto her hands, and swept her around
with them. She stumbled, and laughed. The smiles and curious glances aimed at
her gave her encouragement to try to keep up with the music.

Five
minutes later, she pulled out of the group and leaned against the wall out of
breath. Brody joined her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I'm
so out of shape." She fanned her face with her hand. "That's one heck
of an aerobic workout."

"You
did great." He pointed. "See the group of men over there. The ones
with their shirts off and in traditional Lakota dress?"

Seven
men danced alone, away from the others. Their skin glistened in the lights from
all the sweat coating their bodies. Tan breechcloths skimmed the top of their
thighs, and they all wore knee-high moccasins laced tight and nothing else. She
raised her brows, impressed. With not an inch of fat on their hard bodies, they
appeared strong and able.

"This
is the first Sun ceremony they're getting to participate in. For the last
twenty-four days, they have prayed and meditated in sweat lodges, preparing for
this weekend. They started dancing outside when the sun came up this morning,
and moved inside to continue dancing while everyone else celebrates and eats.
Tonight, they'll move back outside and dance as the sun goes down. That's where
the official ceremony will take place." Brody leaned closer. "No one
is to bother them, but offer support so that they can fulfill their
journey."

"Can
they not stop and take a break?" She blew her bangs out of her face.

"Yes,
they may stop if absolutely necessary." Brody grinned. "Although, the
competition to be the most devoted usually wins out over having to rest."

"This
is all new to me." Joan shook her head. "But, I'm fascinated."

"If
you notice, there are no other guests allowed inside the center when a ceremony
is being performed, but we were able to request special permission for
you." Brody motioned for her to follow. "Let's get something to
drink."

She'd
gone a half dozen steps when a little boy ran into her legs and bounced off,
landing on his rear. He stared up at her with eyes the size of quarters. She
bent at the waist and helped him to his feet.

"Are
you okay? That was quite the tumble you took." She straightened his shirt
to cover his rounded belly.

He
nodded, and continued to stare at her with a curiosity she found charming. She
tucked her dress around her legs, and kneeled down.

The
child dropped his gaze to her feet and poked her heels with a tiny finger. His
shaggy brown hair covered his eyes. She ran her fingers over the top of his
head, pushing his hair back.

She
smiled. "Are you having fun?"

"I
dance." He giggled.

She
guessed he was three or four. "Oh, I bet that is fun."

"Hey,
little man." Brody swept the child up in his arms. "Where's your
Ina
?"

"
Leksi
!"
The boy wrapped his arms around Brody's neck.

"This
little guy's name is Squirrel. He's my nephew." Brody leaned down to Joan.
"I better take him back to my sister, Christy, who no doubt is searching
for him. He has a habit of disappearing. I'll be right back. Why don't you find
Trace or Devon? They can help you grab something to eat before everyone heads
outside."

She
smiled and tickled Squirrel's side making him break out in giggles again.
"Go on, take care of this cutie. I'll be fine."

Winding
her way toward the back of the room, she broke away from the mass. She searched
the far wall until she found who she was looking for. Goosebumps broke out
along her arms.

Trace,
outfitted in black from head to toe, leaned against the wall piercing her with
his gaze. Warmth replaced the chill from earlier, and she walked toward him. He
shouldn't have to stand by himself at a party.

"Hi."
She scooted beside Trace and leaned against the wall. "Brody had to return
his nephew to his sister, and told me to find you."

"You
shouldn't be here." He glanced down at her. "It's no place for a
woman like you."

Taken
aback, she stood there not knowing what to say. His attitude of late, wore on
her patience. She'd tried to understand the demons he fought, but she could
only imagine what he was thinking most of the time.

There
were times, like now, where she came up empty handed, where she doubt if he
even liked her as a friend. His indifference angered her.

The
other night she'd wanted him with a passion she'd never experienced before. If
he had asked, she would have taken him to her room and made love. It was that
simple. She never questioned why or needed to know what would happen the next
day. Deep down in her heart, she knew being with Trace was right.

"I'm
sorry. I'll leave you alone," she whispered.

She
stepped away, and he grabbed her hand. "Why did you say that?"

Not
wanting him to see how his rudeness had her close to tears, she lifted her
chin. "I won't bother you anymore. I won't try to draw you into a
conversation, and I won't spend time alone with you, unless we're working on
your exercises. When your doctor deems you well enough to continue on your own,
I'll leave and you won't have to put up with me anymore."

"Joan,
I—"

"Don't
say it. Don't you dare say it." She shook her head, and kept her voice
low. "I don't regret one moment of the time I've spent with you at Lakota
ranch, and that includes all the flirting and the kisses we shared. So, don't
apologize."

"You
don't understand," he whispered.

"For
some reason, you don't see yourself worthy of a woman's attention. That makes
me angry, because all I see is a man who is stronger than anyone I know. You
put those you love before your own happiness, and protect those who need
protecting. But, who's going to protect you? Who's going to love you,
Trace?"

The
muscle in his jaw twitched, and he didn't answer her. He simply stared down at
her with eyes darker than the black abyss.

She
spun around and walked away. Losing herself in the crowd, she searched for an
exit. She would not allow herself to fall apart anywhere near Trace, and give
him another excuse to find something wrong with her.

The
fine line between patient and friend no longer existed. After all these weeks,
the boundary she'd set had faded away, under no control of her own. She knew
better. How could she turn off her heart?

She'd
gone into nursing, because she cared about people. Her main goal was making
their pain tolerable and seeing to their comfort. The satisfaction of having
helped a person feel better compared right up there with seeing small miracles
happen every day.

Not
every person she cared about would survive. Trace's leg would heal completely,
thanks to her regime of exercise and making sure he pampered himself. The only
person who could heal his shattered heart was Trace.

Outside,
she rushed to the Lakota ranch truck and found the door locked. She smacked her
hand against the window. Pain ricocheted up her arm, and she leaned against the
vehicle, groaning.
How could he not see what he's doing to himself?

A
small movement from the rear of the truck startled her. She sniffed, wiped her
cheeks, and stepped toward the back. Looking down on the ground, she gasped.
Oh,
my God.

The
young girl from the last time she visited the reservation with Trace sat on the
ground. Her legs drawn to her chest, and her arms wrapped around the bruised
and dirty limbs. Joan kneeled down in the grass. Reaching out, she pulled her
hand back before making contact. The last thing she'd want to do is frighten
Savannah or make her run off without someone helping her.

"Savannah?
I'm one of Trace's Friends. I'm his nurse, and helping him with his broken
leg." She lowered her head to peek at Savannah's face. "Are you able
to understand me?"

Blood
ran from Savannah's nose, and she gave a slight nod.

"Can
you do me a favor, and hold your head up a little more? We need to slow down
the blood flow."

Savannah
appeared in shock, but followed Joan's instructions. Joan grabbed the end of
her dress and ripped enough material off to hand over to Savannah. "Press
this on your nose, and hold really still. Try not to move your head, sweetie.
I'm going to go back in and find Trace. He'll know what to do. Okay? Will you
stay here, and not run off?"

Savannah
nodded, her eyes dry, unblinking, and void of emotion. Joan had seen the same
expression in Trace's gaze when he thought she wasn't looking. At Savannah's
age, it was important to work fast before she slipped further into herself.

Unable
to stop herself, she rubbed Savannah's arm. "I'll be right back with
Trace."

She
ran through the field, across the road, and spotted Trace and Brody standing
outside the doors of the hall. Not wanting to attract attention, she slowed
down to a fast walk and approached Trace from the rear. The quieter she could
keep what was happening with Savannah private until they figured out what
happened to the girl, the safer.