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Authors: Mary Tate Engels

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BOOK: Speak to the Wind
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Chapter Three

 

Maria’s busy life
returned t
o normal with meetings, out-of-
town business trips and absolutely no contact from Joe Quintero. She went to Dallas for three days, then on to Houston promoting Speechcraft Inc. Back in sunny Phoenix, she breezed into the office Monday morning, and dropped four new files on her secretary's desk. "Morning, Letty. Give me a few minutes to get organized, then come on in for letters to these new cl
ients. We need to work out a po
tential schedule for them, too."

Letty smiled up at her ambitious young boss. "Good morning, Maria. How was Texas
?
"


Fine. Busy.
I’ll
give you details later."

"Looks like you spent the weekend working again." Letty bent her graying head over
the folders Maria left her. "
You a
l
ready have new client profiles made?"

"How else can I get anything done?"

"There's always the regular work week, five days is enough for the rest of us."

Maria shook her head quickly. "Not for me. Too much to do. And see how far ahead we are? We're ready to start working with these new clients."

"Don't you ever rest, Maria?"

"What are you, my mother?"

"Mother-substitute," Letty said with a gentle chuckle. "I have a feeling your mother is too much like you to fuss about your workaholic life-style."

"She is," Maria confirmed with a satisfied smile. "She learned the values of working hard first and taught me. Is Kay in yet?" She nodded toward t
he office of Kay Barlow, her as
sistant.

"No. She called to say she'd be a little late today. Randy has a runny nose and the day care wouldn't let him attend sick. So she's arranging for a neighbor to take care of him."

"When she gets here, let me know. We have to consult on these new clients. Two of them want general Speechcraft seminars, and I think she should do them. Another wants an i
ndividual speech consultant. It’ll
be good experience for her." Maria walked toward her office door, leafing through the mail.

"There were several messages over the weekend," Letty said. "I left notes about them on your desk."

Maria entered her large
windowed, roomy office. The
bold contemporary
Southwestern decor provided a feeling of space, even though it was full of tall bookshelves that lined two walls with a small seating area tucked into one corner. Her desk, a huge, L-shape creation, allowed her to spread out her numerous projects.

"Letty?" she called. "What's this?"

"I knew it," Letty muttered under her breath. "Are you talking about the election committee? Listen to the second message on the answering machine."

"Uh-huh. What election comm
ittee? City, county, state or..
.bigger?"

Letty brought a cup of steaming coffee laced with cream to Maria's desk. "I don't think it's anything very big.
Just interesting
." She
pushed
the button to
play back the message in question. "They even set their own appointment time
this morning
. Nice, huh?"

"Uh-huh." Maria sipped he
r coffee standing up. "The elec
tion committee seems quite sure of itself. It's a good thing there isn't anything else s
cheduled at nine o'clock. Other
wise 'the committee' would just have to wait."

"Right. Sounds as tho
ugh he has an accent. Maybe His
panic."

"Or Indian."

Letty raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "You would know more about that than I, Maria." She re
turned to the outer of
fice, and precisely at nine she buzzed the intercom. "
Ms.
Eden, the election committee is here to see you. And you were right."

"
Okay, s
end them in." Curiously Maria stood up and waited for the mystery guests who had failed to identify themselves on the
ir message,
but who had made their own appointment.

In a quiet flurry three
dark-haired, impressive men en
tered her office. They were dressed modestly, except for the outrageous chunks of turquoise jewelry they wore. Bola ties, belt buckles, rings and
watches were outstandingly deco
rated with the blue-green gem. The three shook hands with her, and Maria offered them seats.

Politely they declined and
continued to stand in a semicir
cle around her desk. Maria stood, also.

"I am Albert Swimmer," the eldest man began. "This is John Cody. And Phillip Alchesay. We are members of the election committee for the High Meadow Apache Tribe."

"It's nice to meet you," Maria responded. So it was
that
election committee. Her mind whirled. But why in the world would these men want to see her? Did it have something to do with her cabin? Or the fire? Instinctively she waited for the men to state their case.

"We are supporting a new leader for our tribe," Albert Swimmer continued. "One who has the interest of his people
at heart. One who knows the ways of his people and will not go against them. One who is smart like the coyote and wise like the eagle. One who can teach his people new and better ways to do things, yet who knows the value of keeping the old traditions." He paused and looked at his companions. They nodded in agreement.

"Yes, I understand." Maria nodded solemnly, too.

"The man we have chosen to lead our people is wise in many ways, but he has no experience in making speeches o
r in speaking to the television,
radio
and all that other social media
. He is an Apache who knows about the white man's ways. He wants to learn how to work with the Anglo community as well as the Indian. Can you teach him these things?"

As they talked, Maria realized this election committee was considering hiring her to work with their chosen candidate. They could see the value in having a leader who could speak to the media with relative ease and the necessity of being able to move between the two cultures. It was always difficult to change from being a private person to a public figure.
I
n the Indian community
,
that was a
n even
big
ger
step. Immediately she was intrigued with the concept.

Maria gave Albert Swimmer a direct, businesslike gaze. "That's the purpose of my bu
siness. I do workshops for busi
ness groups or individuals. In fact, I've worked with many candidates for public offic
e, including governors and sena
tors who are now in office."

Mr. Swimmer raised one hand. “
To be an Indian leader is different. We do not want a white man's version of a leader. But we want our candidate to be a good representative of his people. This is a time of working together, the Anglo and the Indian, and our leader must be able to do that."

"I can assure you, I have
nothing to do with personal phi
losophy or direction. I teach my clients the
importance of listening and the
mechanics of
speaking and conducting themselves in difficult situations, not in what to say. In the en
d, what they do with my instruc
tions is up to them."

The eldest Apache nodded. "Good. That is good. That is what we want. You te
ach him the correct way to work
and his heart will show him the co
rrect way to act in the best in
terest of his people."

Maria smiled. If only life really worked out that way, every client she taught would be a dynamic leader and his or her heart would do the rest. Unfortunately every individual was human, subject to his or
her limitations. Maria fully be
lieved that her clients functio
ned better in public spheres af
ter taking her courses. She couldn't work miracles, however. She gave no guarantees of success.

"I'd like to talk to your
candidate before we make any fi
nal decisions. We

ll see if we can work well together. Also, I have an assistant. Sometimes she has a better rapport with a new client. You can let me
know later if you want Speech
craft's services."

"We have already made the decision. Our candidate wants to work with you.
Only you.
" Albert Swimmer fumbled in his coat pocket and drew out an envelope. He took a step forward and laid it on Maria's desk. "We will pay for this teaching. But we want it kept between us. We do not want anyone knowing, especially the
news media
."


I
understand.
I work in strictest confidence with
my clients. You have my assurance that any of our meetings will be confidential."

"We are willing to send you to another place to meet with him in private."

"Oh?" Maria raised her eyebrows, thinking the remote Apache reservation was sufficiently private. "Where?"


To a quiet place in Mexico. A
nice
little resort in a fishing vil
lage. Our candidate will meet you there in two weeks. There you can teach him in private.
Out of sight from anyone.
"

"Mexico?" Maria took the colorful brochure Albert Swimmer handed her. "It looks lovely. But why so far away?"


To keep it secret until he is ready."

"But... this is a little
extreme, isn't it? Why not some
where on the reservation?"

The Indian spokesman drew himself up and looked her squarely in the eyes. "You don't conduct secret meetings in your own backyard, do you
?
"

"Well, no—"

"We couldn't do this in secrecy on the reservation. People would know."

"I see." Maria nodded.
He had a point. While the reser
vation seemed remote to most, it was well populated by the Apache
people
.
In some respects, it was like a small town
where
there were no secrets.

"We will send you a plane ticket. Our client will meet you there."

"But if I don't meet him beforehand, how—"

"You will know him. You have already met him."

"I have
?
How do you know
who I’ve met
?"

"His name is Joe Quintero.

“Oh.
” Maria sucked in her breath. “
Yes. We’ve met.”


He is our choice for the next leader of the High Meadow Apache." The expression in Mr. Swimmer's sharp, dark eyes accentuated his words. "
That is, i
f you do your job, Maria Eden."

"Look, there are no guarantees here."

"You just do your job,
Ms.
Eden. And he will do his."

Maria nodded mutely, and the men filed out of her office. She could hardly believe w
hat she'd heard. A million ques
tions raced through her head. She was sure Joe was behind this visit from the committee. But why? Did he really need
her services? Or was this his way of getting them together? The man was certainly
enter
prising.

She recalled his parting kiss as a taste of passion. Sweet and seductive. Whetting her ap
petite for more. She smiled, re
membering that, secretly, t
he experience had left her shak
ing with desire.

Letty poked her head in the door. "I'm dying of curiosity. What did they want?"

Maria
motioned to her secretary. "You’ll
never believe this, Letty." She leaned back in h
er desk chair and started laugh
ing. Clutching her heart, she twirled the desk chair around and around, laughing like a fool.

"Maria..." Letty looked at her boss strangely.

"It's all right, Letty. You're going to get your way at long last
.
I'm going to Mexico with a very handsome man!"

"What
?
"

"Get this. The 'election committee' is a group of High Meadow Apache working to
elect a new leader. They're hir
ing me and sending me to a remote resort in Mexico to work with their candidate
.
Now can you beat that?"

"I've never heard of such a thing."

BOOK: Speak to the Wind
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