Mountain Moonlight

chapter 11





The trail they followed was the steepest yet, the horses laboring uphill for what seemed an endless time. When they finally came out onto a more or less level area, Bram called a halt and they dismounted.

"Let's see that map again," he said to Davis.

Davis extracted the map from a saddle bag, handed it to him and then stood close to peer at it with him. Vala joined them to stare down at the deerskin.

"This is it," Bram declared after a few minutes study. "The end of the road."

"You mean the treasure is here?" Davis asked, looking around eagerly.

"As far as I can tell." Bram rolled the map back up and handed it to Davis. "Better put this away before we go haring off to search."

Davis made the run to the saddlebag and back in record time.

"Listen up," Bram announced. "No splitting the search party. We three stick together at all times. Is that clear?"

No one objected.

"We'll start to the far left and search the outer areas in a clockwork rotation," he went on. "Don't any of you figure it's going to be easy to find whatever it is we're searching for. Look sharp."

They'd covered half the outer rim when Davis cried, "My foot hit something."

Bram knelt and dug around a metallic chunk with a small collapsible spade from his gear. Vala held her breath as he eased the object free. What was it?

"I'd say this is the broken-off end of a pick-ax," Bram announced. "Whether or not there's any gold here, somebody had a fling at digging for it."

Judging from the broken point of the pick-ax, which resembled some old relic, Vala figured the digger had been here a long time ago. She held out her hand and Bram gave her the piece of metal.

Vala intended to save it--just in case. If nothing else turned up, at least Davis would have a souvenir from the trip.

As they went on, they came to a mound of broken rocks. Glancing up, Vala saw the rocks had come from a shattered spire thrusting high above.

She noticed Bram follow her gaze. "Remember, the Superstitions are of volcanic origin," he said. "There are a couple of great cones down at the west end."

Davis made a sweeping gesture, "You mean a volcano made all this?"

Bram nodded. "A long time ago."

"Everything interesting happened before I was born," Davis complained. "Like the dinosaurs and all."

"Then I guess you'll just have to find something interesting to do with your life," Vala told her son.

"Like find the treasure," Davis said.

As they continued around the rim, Davis spotted what looked like it might be the opening to a mine, but it turned out to be no more than a shallow hole in the rock.

They finished the circle without finding anything else. "With our next clockwise sweep," Bram said, "try hard to spot anything unusual."

He was saying this, Vala figured, because once they finished making the second, inner circle, there was no other place to search. Find it this time or it isn't here.

She hadn't allowed herself to really believe there'd be gold at the end of the journey, but she'd hoped all along she'd be proved wrong. Turning the broken piece of metal over in her hands, she resigned herself to this fragment being all they'd discover.

Near the center of the area rose a rounded dome-like formation with smaller rocks scattered around it and some larger ones on top. On the far side, a large pile of rocks suggested something had broken off at one time or another and slid down here in pieces.

A different colored rock caught Vala's eye, whitish instead of the red-brown prevailing color. Curious, she reached into the pile to try to pull it loose to examine it but found what she'd grasped was the small end of a large rock. Determined not to be thwarted, she gave a hard yank. Instead of the rock pulling free, the entire pile shifted and she jumped back to avoid the tumbling rocks. The noise brought Davis and Bram from the other side of the formation.

"I saw this rock I wanted to look at--" she began to explain before Davis cut her off.

"Look!" he cried, pointing. "There's a hole."

Vala eyed the long gap the falling rocks had revealed. Just a crevice--or something more?

It took the three of them almost an hour to shift enough of the rocks so Bram could shine his flashlight into the opening. Vala watched impatient Davis fidget when Bram continued to look inside, not moving or speaking.

"What's in there?" Davis finally demanded.

Bram pulled back and handed Davis the flashlight. "See for yourself."

Davis inched closer and shone the light inside the cavity. After a moment or two, he pulled his head out, his mouth drooping in disappointment. "Just some old pictures somebody drew on the rock in there."

Vala took the flashlight from him to discover what he was talking about. She was gazing in fascination at the strange drawings inside when she heard Bram say.

"Okay, Davis, I want you to use that smart brain of yours. What do those drawing remind you of?"

"Uh--nothing much. Sort of like a little kid's drawing."

"You're not thinking. Where have you seen drawings like that lately?"

Vala pulled her head out in time to see her son's face light up. "On the map!" he cried. "On Mokesh's map."

She nodded. They were very like.

"So what does that mean?" Bram persisted.

Looking at him, Vala realized there was something different about Bram, a sort of brightness in his face she hadn't noticed before.

"Mokesh said the map was made before his time," Davis said slowly. "So whoever made it lived way long ago. His Ndee ancestors, maybe." He reached up and tugged at his ear. "So those drawings in there have to be real old, too, don't they?"

Bram nodded. "They're called pictographs. Native Americans drew them in many places in this country. But no one is sure how old the drawings are. Sometimes these same symbols are found carved in rocks."

"Petroglyphs," Vala said, remembering a display she'd seen in a New York museum. She realized now that they'd found something of incredible value in these rock drawings. "Right," Bram said. "If Mokesh were alive, he'd tell us the Ndee found those pictographs when they settled around here a long time ago. He'd say people they call the Old Ones drew them."

"Who were the Old Ones?" Davis asked. "Mokesh told me they were here before the Ndee but he didn't explain except to say they were still here."

"He meant their spirits remain. No one knows who the Old Ones were. They left no trace of their presence in these parts except for the pictographs and petroglyphs."

"With the opening hidden by fallen rocks like it was," Vala put in, "we might be the first people to see those pictures since the Ndee found them."

"I'd say the Ndee covered the opening to keep the pictographs safe. That was no accidental rock fall." Bram spoke like he knew. "We'll all take one more look and then we're going to put the rocks back like we found them. This is a sacred place."

He spoke so solemnly he raised the hair on Vala's nape. Davis's expression was one of pure awe.

"Mokesh wanted me to see those pictures." Davis was almost whispering. "He gave me the map 'cause he wanted me to see the Old Ones' sacred place."

"I think you're right," Vala told her son.

No one complained about the hard work it took to replace the rocks so no vestige of the opening showed. As they finished, the sun came out for the first time since the rain of yesterday.

"See," Davis said. "The spirits are thanking us."

Vala decided not to correct him.

They rested and ate afterward in silence until Bram finally spoke. "Davis asked me once how I knew so much about the Ndee and I didn't answer. The truth is I'm Ndee and I've learned on this trip that there's no need to conceal what I am. There's never been any need, but I didn't understand until now."

"You're really Ndee? Honest and truly?" Davis could hardly contain his excitement.

"Half. But still Ndee. My father was a full-blood." The father he never mentioned when he was young, Vala thought. How wonderful Bram had opened his heart and embraced his heritage.

"I'm happy for you," she told him.

He looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled and nodded. "By following Mokesh's map, I found not only the pictographs but my own treasure."

"I wish I was Ndee," Davis said.

"You don't need to be," Bram told him. "Ancestry isn't important unless you're ashamed to admit to it. Then it's a stone hung around your neck."

"Yeah, but it'd be so cool to be a shaman, like Mokesh."

"Who said you had to be Native American to learn what the shamans know?"

Davis blinked, obviously thinking that one over.

Bram had been so good for Davis, Vala told herself. He encouraged the boy, praised him when he did a good job, told him he was smart and treated him like a friend. She could see the difference in her son in just this short time. Not that she didn't do all those things, but the problem was in Davis's eyes she was just Mom, the person who loved you no matter what. Bram didn't have to like him.

Bram was a man Davis could look up to and encouragement from him meant so much more than Mom's praise. She hoped some of it would stick with Davis when they returned to New York.

Davis had found worthwhile treasure, too, on this trip. He was beginning to discover he could be valued for himself. And Vala's treasure? She shook her head. She was the only hold-out in the group, unless she counted learning to ride a horse.

"Time to get started on the return trip," Bram announced. "Want to bet it'll take a lot less time going down than it did coming up?"

"Aw, everyone knows that," Davis scoffed. "Wanna bet I won't get lost and get stuck full of stickers on the way back?"

"I'd say that was a given," Vala told him.

"Will we get to stop and see Pauline?" Davis asked.

Bram shook his head. "We're taking the shortest way down so you guys will have time to make your return flight. We won't be anywhere near Pauline's."

Davis looked at Vala. "I almost forgot we have to go back to New York," he said.

"That's where home is." She meant her words to come out light and cheerful, but to her own ears her tone sounded forced.

No more warm days--at least not until spring. No more nights of sleeping under the stars. No more Bram.

"Arizona's more fun than New York," Davis complained.

"That's because we're on vacation," Vala said firmly. "Vacations are always more fun."

"I'll sure miss you, Bram." Davis spoke wistfully.

Vala held her breath hoping Davis wouldn't put Bram on the spot by asking an embarrassing question like was he going to come and see them. Of course he wasn't. She'd known that from the beginning.

"This was an exceptional trip all right," Bram said, noncommittally.

To Vala's great relief, Davis subsided.

By the time they camped that night, though, Davis had stocked up on questions.

"Is this something we can't ever talk about? I mean I know we have to keep the sacred place a secret forever and ever, but can I tell people I saw real pictographs?"

"No reason you can't," Bram said. "There are National Park sites where everyone's allowed to go and view the Old Ones' drawings."

"So if I just say somewhere in Arizona that's okay?" "Yup."

"I sure wish Mokesh was still alive so I could tell him."

"He knows."

Davis stared at Bram. "Do you really think so?"

"Yup."

Vala didn't see any reason for a reality check. After all, how could anyone be sure Mokesh, wherever he was, didn't know?

"Sometimes you sound just like in one of those old cowboy movies," Davis commented.

"I learned my yup and nope from Gary Cooper in one of those old westerns," Bram admitted. "The people I guide expect stuff like that and it gets to be a habit."

"It must be neat to guide people. You get to ride horses and camp out and all."

"Beats sitting in a office or in court," Bram said.

"You have to remember, though, that I always have another profession to fall back on if I had to. That's the important thing. Sometimes, to do what you enjoy doing, you need to have a back-up plan. I'm glad I went through law school-- learned a lot, made some good friends."

"I suppose." Davis didn't sound convinced.

"Take you, now," Bram went on. "A smart kid like you, you're college material. By the time you're old enough to go to college chances are you'll have a pretty good idea of what profession appeals the most to you."

"Being a guide sounds like more fun."

"Okay," Bram said, "but college first."

"You better believe it," Vala said to her son.

After Davis called it a night, Vala and Bram sat next to each other on his sleeping bag, close but not touching. Overhead, the waning moon scudded across the sky playing hide and seek with clouds.

"Thanks for giving Davis good advice," she said.

"I lucked onto it. My mother wanted me to go to college, partly because she never had. My father's advice tended to be more philosophical, in the vein of Joseph Campbell's 'Follow your bliss.'"

"Which you did."

He half-smiled. "No. I'm just starting to try to do that now."

Vala realized he must mean his belated acknowledgement of half his heritage. "I was never quite sure exactly what Campbell meant by that," she said. "I have no driving urge to follow any road."

"That's because of Davis. You feel focusing on him is the single most important thing in your life."

Did she? Certainly that was true before she came back to Arizona and met Bram again. Her son was important to her, yes, but Bram had made her realize she was missing out on another vital part of life.

"I'm all Davis has." No way did she intend to mention that she'd learned she needed to be a woman as well as a mother.

He nodded. "There is that."

Did this man realize how easy he was to talk to? Did he entertain the slightest notion that she didn't have a clue how she was going to cope when he was thousands of miles away from her?

"You have to keep in mind not to overdo the mothering, though," Bram went on. "Davis is more capable that you may realize."

She'd learned that from watching how Bram dealt with her son. As much as she loved Davis, maybe she hadn't been doing the best by him. Surely she hadn't been influenced by Neal's put-downs of the boy--inept, clumsy, timid, whiny, useless? She fervently hoped not. Davis was always better when he was out from under his father's critical eye, but on this trip he'd proved he was none of the things his father had accused him of.

"I do try to remember he's not my baby any more," she said.

"Keep in mind he didn't go to pieces when he was lost and hurting from the cactus spines. And remember he faced down a rattler without getting bit, because he knew how to act. I don't lie to kids. I tell him he's smart because he is--smart and brave."

"Smart enough so he's probably peeking through the flap in the tent right now seeing if we're going to kiss good night again."

"In that case, why disappoint him?"

Before she could say yes, no, or maybe, she was in Bram's arms being thoroughly kissed.

As always, she lost herself in pleasure, her heart telling her this was where she belonged.

He released her far too soon to suit her, saying, "If we go on with this the kid'll get a sex education he definitely doesn't need at his age. I remember nine as a relatively naive time in my life. Sure, I knew men and women had sex, but I didn't apply that knowledge to my mother and father. Not them."

Vala sighed and nodded. "You're right. The possibility that my mother and father could be sexual beings was the farthest thing from my mind."

He took her hand and held it in his, making her feel warm and comforted. And still a bit turned on, but she tried to quash that.

"Really, why didn't you ever get married?" she asked after a time.

He grinned at her. "No one asked me."

She squeezed his fingers. "Seriously."

"My folks, I guess. I know it wasn't easy for my mother to be alone so much. I blamed my father, not realizing until lately that it might have been lonesome for him, too. Marriage looked like a painful proposition to me, one I didn't want any part of."

"You were never even tempted?"

Bram shook his head.

She decided that had been a dumb question. He probably could have any woman he wanted without benefit of marriage. And did have? Best to leave that one alone, she told herself.

"Never mind that people all around me got divorces," she said, "I had the illusion that marriage was forever, like my folks'. Otherwise I probably wouldn't have stayed with Neal as long as I did. He was not good for my ego, just as he isn't for Davis's."

"He sounds charming." Bram's voice was a near growl. She shouldn't throw all the blame on Neal. She hadn't been what he'd expected he was getting any more than he'd been what she thought he was. But he'd been so nasty about the whole thing that it felt good to vent her feelings. "That's all past," she said firmly. "I've no intention of making another mistake like that."

"No more marriages?"

"Something of the sort. Men are--unpredictable."

"Men are?" He turned to look at her, eyebrows raised. "It's women who hold the honors in that field."

She frowned and pulled her hand free of his. "Do you find me unpredictable?"

"Haven't been around you that long," he said.

"Cop-out and you know it."

"Okay, so it is," he said. "Let's take when we were kids, that night I came over to your house. You don't think the way you acted was unpredictable? It sure felt that way to me."

"Only because you didn't know what I'd overheard. And misinterpreted, as it turned out. What had you predicted? That I'd let you kiss me?"

"Hell, I can't remember. I did want to kiss you, though."

"And I'll bet you figured once that was accomplished I'd fall at your feet and become your willing slave?"

He grinned. "Hey, I was a hormone driven teenager." Vala couldn't help but wonder if the scenario she'd presented could actually have happened if she hadn't overheard the Ice Maiden conversation. She'd been totally fascinated with Bram as a teen. Of course, her parents probably would have put a stop to any relationship between them before things got to that state.

"We'll have to throw out the teen years," she admitted. "No one that young is totally reasonable."

"No one caught up in infatuation is reasonable, no matter how old they are," Bram countered.

She couldn't argue. Hadn't she made the mistake of marrying Neal in just such a state? And wasn't she well into such a state again now? Bram had only to look at her and she tingled.

"I like to think the years have added a little sense," she told him.

"My grandmother, my father's mother, lived well into her nineties," Bram said. "Sharp to the end. Before she died, I went to see her. I made the mistake of asking her what she'd learned from life." He shook his head. "I should have remembered about the Ndee. As Davis complained, Mokesh never explained. That's definitely a Ndee trait. Grandmother looked me in the eye and said, 'Boy, you ask a foolish question. The older we get, the more we understand we know nothing.'"

Vala took time to think that one over.

"So," Bram went on, "why are we sitting here arguing when we actually know nothing, but just think we do?"

She smiled at him. "Because we're not yet ninety, I guess, so we don't believe it."

He was going to miss Vala. Every other time he'd been involved in a relationship with a woman, sex had been the center and the talk had been trivial.

Vala didn't spout trivia. She was a woman you could actually talk to and enjoy the conversation. What she said even made him think.

He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit sex was also involved. Involved? A wimpy damn word for what was between them, physically and otherwise. He'd never gotten in this deep before, never felt the overwhelming urge to protect a particular woman from any possible harm. Hell, he was even tempted to take on that bastard of an ex-husband and punch his lights out.

Insanity.

"You look positively ferocious," Vala said. "Since you're not aiming it at me, who's the scowl for?"

"That damned Trickster," he muttered. "He can't stand to see a man get his life where he wants it without jumping in to interfere."

"If I were as old and wise as your grandmother," she said, "I might be able to answer that. In fact, I'll give it a whirl, anyway. Stasis."

"Stasis?"

"The Trickster doesn't like stasis, so he devises ways to force change on us poor humans who keep struggling to maintain the status quo."

Bram nodded. "I'd say that's an answer worthy of a Ndee."

Vala felt absurdly complimented. She also felt sleepy. "It must be getting late," she murmured.

"You could bring your sleeping bag out here next to mine," he said. "Nothing wrong with sleeping under the stars together."

Though tempted, Vala shook her head. To preserve her sanity, she was better off sharing the tent with Davis. Because of her constant need to touch and be touched by Bram, lying next to him at night was just not a good idea. Even though that was exactly what she longed to do.

"Not tonight, but maybe once more before the trip ends," she conceded, needing that promise for herself.