He laughed then, like a man who needed that cleansing relief in his life a lot more often. “So, it’s going to be that way? I’m unemployed and you’re a felon, and life will be just one happy dance.”
“No.” She rose up on her knees, bending over him and putting a hand on either side of his face. “It’s going to be hard. But we will find moments. And those moments of happiness will grow and expand until we can hold the dark places at bay most of the time. I want to try that with you. If you want it, too.”
“Dance with you?” His eyes turned soft into liquid gold currents where the dark shadows shimmered. “Anytime. Anyplace. Anywhere.”
She kissed him and it was warm and soft and so very nice. The hum of passion never left him but this time it was muted, a part but not all of his need for her.
Much later, when her phone rang, Jori was reluctant to answer but when she saw who it was, she had to. Yardley Summers. They had talked twice in the past two days. She supposed she should have told Law. But both brother and sister were hard to slow down, impossible to stop once they were on a mission.
“Hi. Yes, Yardley, he’s here.” Jori rolled over and handed Law her phone.
He frowned and didn’t take it. “My sister? Why is she calling you?”
“You’d better let her tell you herself.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Jori sighed in gratitude when the Albuquerque VA Medical Center came into view through the cab window. Albuquerque was clear and as cold as ice the week before Christmas. If not for the cold, it was easy to imagine it was summer. She doubted the season changed the brown desert landscape very much.
She glanced at Law, who sat next to her with his legs spread and his arms relaxed, but the pose didn’t fool her. The lines around his mouth were deeper than usual. His gaze unfocused. Only the presence of Sam, who had recovered surprisingly quickly, seemed to hold him in place. He rhythmically petted her while she leaned fully against his good leg. Everyone at the airport had smiled at the rusty-red floppy-eared dog wearing a service vest with a purple paw, and camo-print protective booties.
Jori looked away. She hoped she and Yardley were doing the right thing.
When the car pulled up to a parking lot near the main building, Jori sat forward, looking for the woman Law had earlier described as tall and striking, with deep-mahogany-red hair. The moment she spotted Yardley standing on the shallow steps of the main building, Jori knew she could have picked her out in a crowd of hundreds. She had an Elle Macpherson curviness about her. And hair like a horse’s mane. Jori was glad she was Law’s sister.
When they had exited, Jori went ahead while Law paid the driver.
Jori held out her hand to the beautiful woman who shared Law’s sludge-gold eyes and direct gaze. “Hi, I’m Jori.”
Yardley looked at her and then embraced her. “You’re a miracle worker. I could never have gotten him to do this.”
“I just hope we did the right thing.”
Both women turned to watch Law approach. He and Sam were truly an inseparable pair these days. They had arranged for Law to spend three days here to take part in the Native American healing ceremonies at the VA center, where PTSD issues were treated with a holistic approach and ancient Native American ceremonies.
Yardley embraced her brother, whispering in his ear, “I like her. She can handle you.”
Law smiled. “You have no idea.”
Then his gaze shifted to the two men who stood a little to one side. The taller of the two, a man with a deeply lined tanned face, long gray ponytail, and plaid shirt, came forward. Silver glinted on his wrists and his bolo. He smiled and nodded politely at the women but he reserved his attention for Law.
“Welcome, warrior Battise. I am John Ayze, one of the traditional practitioners. You understand what we do here today?”
Law nodded. “I know the sweat lodge ceremony.”
“Yes. But this is a special ceremony for Native American war veterans. Before a soldier goes to war, you are given the ceremony of training and armor and comrades so that you can protect yourself in battle. But when you return, there is no ceremony to remove these things, and all the spirits you have collected at war. Many suffer because of this rift between war and peace. It goes by many names. Here we remove that armor in ceremonies meant to honor your service and allow you to return to us in peace.”
The man touched Law’s arm. “You were wounded. Western medicine has healed what is possible to physically heal. Here we deal with spiritual matters. We begin with a sweat lodge ceremony. Afterward we will conduct the first ‘enemy way’ ceremony. It is the traditional ceremony for countering the harmful effects of the spirits you collected in battle. In three days we will have completed the ritual. You may come back as often as you need to until body, mind, and spirit are one in peace. Are you ready?”
Law took a breath and nodded.