The developed portion of the reservation ended abruptly, extending a bit farther into the untouched land where the wildlife refuge took hold. It was on these grounds that Ela’s grandfather White Eagle lived, on land unspoiled and unchanged since the time of his ancestors. Sure enough, their trek brought them up to a hump that settled onto a narrow strip of earth perched against a pond fed by a churning waterfall. A man with a hunched back and stooped frame stood in the spotlight of the sun, between matching elm trees, hands clasped behind his back and flowing hair tossed about at the whims of the wind.
He had the look of a man who’d once been tall, now shrunken by the ravages of time and age. He wore trousers stitched out of some kind of hide, moccasins, and a leather vest over a tattered woolen shirt, in spite of the heat. Drawing closer, Caitlin could see that the furrows and wrinkles crisscrossing his face were so thick that the sun turned it into a patchwork road map of dark avenues carved through the light. She let herself imagine that if a man from the nineteenth century really were still alive today, this was what he’d probably look like.
“Caitlin Strong,” the old man said, through lips that seemed not to move, his jawline utterly slack.
Caitlin felt Cort Wesley tense just to her right. Something about the old man knowing her name seeming to activate his defenses. She watched Ela advance, approaching White Eagle.
“Grandfather, this is the—”
“I know who she is and what she is,” White Eagle said, never taking his eyes off Caitlin. “I feel like it’s 1874 again and I’m looking at a different Strong.”
“I’m sorry to intrude, sir.”
“I’m not a ‘sir.’ Sir is a white man’s term. Call me White Eagle, just like your ancestor once did. I’ll call you eckawipe. Means ‘first woman,’ since you are the first woman Texas Ranger—at least the first one to truly last and make your name. Come and sit with me.”
It seemed to Caitlin that the old man wasn’t even acknowledging the presence of the others. Even when they all took short stools set in the cover of a grove of shade trees reflected in the shimmering surface of the still pond, it was as if the two of them were alone. Silence dominated at first, broken only by the regular dappling of the waterfall’s currents slapping against the pond waters.
“Do you know why I’m here, White Eagle?” Caitlin finally asked.
“That man was killed off our lands. It’s not our problem or our concern.”
“I was hoping you could shed some light on other matters.”
“They should know he will only be the first,” White Eagle continued, ignoring what Caitlin had just said, sounding like he was playing a recording through his mouth. “That if they don’t heed this warning, others will die too, just as they did in the time of your great-great-grandfather. You hear my words, Eckawipe?”
“I do, and they sound like a threat.”
“Because they are, not from me but from the land itself. From nature.”
“Your granddaughter mentioned that.”
White Eagle’s gaze shifted to Ela, as if noticing her for the first time. “My granddaughter does not speak for me or the land. She has yet to learn that language.”
“You’re aware of Steeldust Jack Strong’s experiences here, then.”
“I remember it like it was yesterday, Eckawipe.”
Caitlin let the old man’s comment stand. “He came to the reservation because of a killing just outside it, too. The victim today was found in virtually the same condition.”
“Torn apart, as if by an animal?”
“I was thinking bear.”
“So did Jack Strong. But I’ll tell you what I told him. No bears roam these parts. No wolves or mountain lions, either. Not then, not now.”
“You told him,” Caitlin repeated. “In 1874. A hundred and forty-two years ago.”
“I believe your math is correct,” White Eagle told her. “And the white man today who repeats the same mistakes will pay the same price, Ranger. Many more will fall now, just as they fell then.”
“Your own tribal leaders made this deal, White Eagle,” Caitlin reminded. “Your granddaughter’s standing in a protest line facing across the road, when really she should be teaching those kids she came back here for, and watching her back.”
“Then the land will protect her as she protects it. That is the sacred bond our people made too many centuries ago to count. Persist in your trespass and you place your own life in jeopardy from forces you can’t possibly imagine or understand.”
“Why don’t you help me understand them?”
White Eagle shook his head. “You’re no different from your great-great-grandfather. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him: begone and let nature handle its own.”
“And what if I can’t do that?”
“Then even I won’t be able to protect you.” The old man’s eyes fixed briefly on Cort Wesley before moving to Dylan and holding on him. “Or those you love.”
32
RALEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA
“Will the defendant please rise?”