A Rainbow in Paradise Read online

  Half an hour later, she was up to her elbows in white glue and wishing the Pilgrims had worn simpler costumes when she heard the front door open. I hope one of the parents has come early, she thought idly. Anything to take the pressure off would be welcome just now.

  She stood and turned around, ready to put on a happy face for the parents who made up her clientele. But it wasn't a parent.

  "Logan, what—?" She paused in mid-sentence as her knees turned to jelly beneath her. Her mouth still half-open, she slumped back into her chair.

  "Hi, Eden," Logan said. "Looks like I've caught you at a busy time."

  "Uh... um..."

  "Yes," Laurel answered, protectively stepping in. "It's a very busy time. Is there something I can do for you, Mr., er...?"

  "Redhorse," he answered. "Logan Redhorse."

  Laurel's eyes widened. "Oh. Redhorse. Oh. You're the—"

  "It's okay, Laurel," Eden said, finally finding her voice. "I'll handle this."

  "Okay. Sure thing, Eden. Can I take over the Pilgrims and turkeys for you while you two, uh, talk?"

  "I'd appreciate that," Eden answered. "Logan, would you like to step into my office?"

  "I'd like that," he said, noticing how unsteady Eden was on her feet as he followed her. He shut the door behind her as she stepped into the room. "Are you okay?"

  "No," she answered unevenly. She didn't look the least bit happy. "No, I don't think so. What are you doing here, Logan?"

  He managed a small smile, an effort to cover his disappointment. Well, what did you expect, Logan? Did you think she'd throw herself at your feet? "I've missed you, too," he said, attempting a joke.

  Eden didn't smile. "I repeat, what are you doing here?"

  He'd hurt her. He knew he had hurt her. Maybe he hadn't realized how much. "I was joking when I said I'd missed you." He reached out to touch her arm; it was a simple effort to connect. She pulled away, dodging it. "I was joking," he said again, "but I have missed you, Eden. I've missed you terribly."

  "Is that all you have to say?" she asked, her face defiant. "Because if it is, I've got three teachers out with the flu and I need to get back to my Pilgrims and turkeys." She turned her back on him.

  He took her by the shoulders. She flinched, but allowed the touch. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Eden. Please believe—''

  "What difference does it make?" She turned, her eyes flashing with anger and limpid with tears. "You did what you said you'd do all along, so what's there to apologize for? And why did you come here today if all you're going to do is dredge it all up again?"

  "That's not... Eden, that's not why I'm here."

  She finally looked, really looked, at him. "Then why are you here? Why have you come?"

  This would all be so much easier if she'd let me hold her, he thought. "Can we sit?" He gestured toward one of the chairs.

  Eden eased into the chair at the desk and he took the other. Then she waited.

  "Eden, I've done a lot of thinking," he began.

  She nodded. "I guess one can do a lot of thinking in a month."

  "You' re not about to make this any easier for me are you?"

  She took a deep breath. Her voice was gentler when she said, "Okay, I'm listening."

  "Eden..." He cleared his throat, then started again. "Eden, I was wrong."

  She raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

  "About the promise I made to my children."

  Eden was out of her chair before he finished the final syllable. "No, Logan. I don't want to hear this. Please leave now, before we hurt each other anymore."

  "You don't understand." He caught her arm, stopping her movement toward the door. He put all the feeling he could muster into his voice when he spoke again. "I wasn't wrong to make the promise. I just misinterpeted it."

  Eden eased back into her seat, and Logan went on. "It took me a while to realize it, some miserable weeks and a quiet talk with Chris, then another with Reverend Phelps, but I know now that you're what I was waiting for all along. You are what I promised them."

  Eden blinked. "Me? Logan, you're not making sense. You wanted a Navajo mother for your children, someone who could give them a clan affiliation of their own."

  "That's what I thought I wanted, but it was Chris who pointed out to me that it was never what I said. I always said I wanted my children to have an honorable heritage with a mother who was a child of the desert, and a daughter of Dinehtah. You are a child of the desert, Eden. I've known it since that day at White House."

  She smiled, looking inward. "Yes, I remember that day."

  "My children can have their heritage through Frank Manypersons if you like. He likes you so much that he said he’d be happy to adopt you—for ceremonial purposes only, of course. Or if you don’t want to do that, my children can have their inheritance the same way I do, through my Dineh side. That is, our children can. I want you to be their mother, Eden."

  "Stop, Logan." She rose again. "I can't have you compromising what you really want just because—''

  He didn't wait for her to finish. He caught her arms instead, kissing her with all the force in him, letting her feel how much he meant his words. Perhaps her anger was melting now, because she kissed him, too. In fact, her response gave him the first hope he had felt since he'd come here today. He released her only briefly, holding her close against his chest, kissing her mouth and eyes and hair as he whispered over and over again, "Oh, Eden, Eden. I've missed you so much. I don't know how I'd live my life without you. You are what I've always wanted. You, only you."

  Finally believing enough to let her go just a little, he held her at arm's length, watching her eyes. "I love you, Eden. I think I've loved you since the first moment I saw you walk onto Chris's porch. You fascinated me long before I knew anything about you, and the more I learned, the more I wanted you near me. I want to spend my life with you, to love you and cherish you and keep you close beside me forever. I want my daughters to choose you as their 'ideal woman,' and my sons to grow up honoring your name. Marry me, Eden. Marry me and be the mother of my future generations."

  Eden felt stunned, shocked, as though her world had just shifted beneath her. "But what about your children?" she asked. "What about your promises to your children?"

  "Our children, Eden. Yours and mine. I don't even want to have children if you aren't their mother."

  "But—"

  He kissed her quiet. "Don't argue, love. Not now. Just tell me you'll marry me."

  Eden took a long, deep breath. The confusion seemed to clear away with the fresh air. "All right, Logan. I'll give you an answer. But first, look me straight in the eyes and promise me that if I accept your proposal, you won't ever regret being married to a belagaana:'

  Logan smiled. "That one's easy." He held her directly in front of him, hands on her shoulders, as he said, "Eden Grant, I love you with all my mind, life, and heart. I could easily regret marrying just any old belagaana woman, but I could never, would never, will never regret marrying you—never for all of my days or all my generations."

  Logan saw the life come back into Eden's face. He saw the smile begin from the inside out, spread first through her eyes, then to her mouth, and finally even into her voice. "I do believe you mean that," she answered.

  "I do. I swear I mean it. Marry me, Eden. Say you will."

  A sudden pounding on the office door interrupted them. "Miss Eden! Miss Eden!" a young voice called. "Miss Eden, Timmy's eating the paste again."

  Eden felt her lip quiver. "You mean you really expect me to give up all this?"

  Logan grinned. "Promise you'll marry me, and I'll deal with Jimmy."

  "Mr. Redhorse, you drive a hard bargain."

  "Then it's a deal?"

  "I love you, Logan. I've spent the last month wishing I'd never met you because I've been so miserable without you."

  "But does that mean yes?"

  "Yes! I love you, Logan Redhorse."

  "I love you, Eden," he said, and took paradise in his arms. />
  Discussion Questions:

  1. Differences in race, ethnicity, and culture are central to this story, as well as the prejudice that sometimes accompanies such differences. What roles do you think ethnic traditions play in the lives of modern people? How do you think a couple such as Logan and Eden, who come from differing traditions, might blend their traditions, overcoming their differences?

  2. The traditions of a kinaalda are alien to most modern Americans, and yet more young Navajo women are seeking out these old traditions in an effort to know their roots. Eden also sees great value in the ceremony. What did you think—both of the traditions as you saw them and of Eden’s comments on their value?

  3. How does Logan recognize Eden as “a child of the desert”? What effect do you feel the environment in which we are raised affects the person you become? Example: If you grew up in a big city, do you think you might see the world a little differently than someone from a small town? If you grew up in forests, might you see landscapes differently than someone raised in the desert? How do those differences affect the person you become?

  4. Love is shown in many ways in this story, not just with the couple, but also with their friends and family. What are some of the ways love is demonstrated by different characters? How do you show love to those around you?

  Follow Susan Aylworth at www.susanaylworth.com or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/susan.aylworth.author or write to [email protected].

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  THE TROUBLE WITH RAINBOWS

  Book Six

  In the Rainbow Rock Series

  SUSAN AYLWORTH

  Chapter One

  Spring, and a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love—and young men aren't the only ones, Angelica DeForest thought as she sat in the large bay window off her living room, watching the schoolkids walk by, many of them in pairs. The couple passing her window right now—probably no older than thirteen or fourteen—were adorable together, swinging their linked hands between them and smiling shyly, the girl giggling at something the boy had said. They're so sweet, Angelica thought with uncharacteristic longing. If only...

  Now where did that come from? she chided herself, turning away from the window. If anyone had asked, she'd have testified that she'd long since given up the "if only's" and the dreams of what might have been, of what never would be if she didn't get her act together—and quickly. It's time, Angelica, she warned herself sternly. Unless you want to spend the rest of your life alone, it's time and past time.

  She needed to reorganize her life, to become bolder in going after what she wanted, to make new plans for the future and make those plans come true. But The Big Change will have to wait a little longer, she thought with a sigh. It was almost time for her students to start arriving.

  She started for the piano, planning to dust before her first afternoon lesson, but was interrupted by the telephone. "Hello?"

  "Angelica? It's Cretia Carmody. Do you have a moment?"

  "Yes, of course." She couldn't help wondering why Cretia had become so chatty lately. She'd hardly bothered to speak to Angelica during their school years. True, she was several years younger and had been a freshman when Angelica was a senior, but... "Sorry. What was that? I'm afraid I was, uh, distracted."

  "I asked if you ever teach violin lessons," Cretia said.

  "No, I never have. I have a couple of viola students, and several in beginning piano. But not violin. Why?"

  "My niece wants to take lessons. Do you know anyone who teaches?"

  "Locally, you mean? Here in Rainbow Rock?" Angelica combed her memory. "No, I can't think of anyone in this area, or Holbrook, either—not for private lessons." She paused. "I didn't know you had a niece here."

  "I don't—yet," Cretia answered. "My brother Joe has accepted a job at the power plant. He's going to move his family here in a couple of weeks, as soon as they finish their school year. His daughter's eleven. She's taking violin lessons now and she's worried that she may not be able to continue when they move."

  "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll keep my ear to the ground. If I hear of anyone, I'll let you know."

  "Angelica?"

  "Yes?"

  "Is it possible you could consider taking one violin student? I know it's different from the viola, but it isn't that different, is it?" Cretia sighed. "I don't mean to push. It's just that I haven't found anyone who teaches locally, and it means so much to Victoria. Her mother played violin."

  Angelica tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice. "Then perhaps her mother could teach her?" The silence on the other end of the line was a clue that she'd made some kind of faux pas. The story of my life. Angelica sighed. She'd never been good at social contacts.

  "Her mother died," Cretia said. "Just over a year ago. Victoria is studying violin in her mother's memory."

  "Oh. I'm sorry." How do I always stumble into these things? "I'm so sorry, Cretia. I didn't... I never would have..."

  "It's okay. You had no way of knowing."

  "But you're right, you know. The violin isn't really that different from the viola...." Five minutes later, having committed herself to taking her first and only violin student, Angelica hung up the phone just in time to welcome her first piano student for the afternoon. How do I get myself into these things? she pondered again as little Rodney Chapman sat down to mangle "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" in the key of C.

  * * * * *

  "Well, what do you think?" By now the kids had had plenty of time to examine their new digs in Rainbow Rock, Arizona. This picturesque little town was where he had spent his own teen years, and Joe Vanetti was hoping for a little approval from the next generation. He'd certainly put the effort into making this work: paying extra for the moving crews to haul everything out and set it all up while he took Victoria and Nicholas to Southern California theme parks for three days; faxing his sister, Cretia, a detailed map of their rental home, drawn to scale, showing where everything should go so it could all be neatly put away before he and the kids arrived; labeling all the boxes to match the diagram....

  "It's fine, Dad." Victoria offered him the same dispirited, who-cares voice she'd been using for more than a year now.

  "I like my room," Nicholas said, glancing at his dad to get official parental notice of the way he was one-upping his sister. "I've got a cool sliding glass door that leads out onto the patio."

  "And which you are not to use after bedtime," his father said firmly.

  "But Da-ad," Nicholas began.

  "Quit while you're ahead, Nicholas," Joe warned him. "You could end up in Victoria's room, the one with the built-in vanity."

  "Oh, goody." Nicholas rolled his eyes.

  "I think I'll keep the vanity, Dad—if it's all the same to you." Victoria stared at her feet, drawing shapes on the floor with her toe.

  She doesn't want me to know she cares, Joe noticed. Poor kid. She's been a wreck since her mother died. And she's growing up. She needs her mother. "Okay, honey," he said aloud. "That's where we'll keep you—for now, anyway." He grinned at her and ruffled her hair. She gave him her long-suffering look and combed her hair back into place with her fingers. Yeah. That went over great.

  "So," he said, "since everything's all set up here, what d'ya say we call up your Aunt Cretia and her family and invite them to meet us for dinner? I hear there's a nice Thai place in Holbrook."

  "Thai?" Nicholas wrinkled his nose. "Nobody should ever have to eat coconut milk with lime juice in it."

  "You like the silvery rice noodles," Joe reminded, but Nicholas just turned up his nose.

  "I like Thai, Dad." Victoria stuck her tongue out at her brother.

  "Thanks, honey." Wouldn't you know it? The only sure way to get my daughter to agree with me is if she can rub it in her brother's face. "I'll call Cretia and Max and the gang. Maybe they'd like to meet us there."

  Well, it's hardly an auspicious beginning, Joe concluded as he started for the phone, but we're here. That's something. As Victoria and Nicholas b
egan bickering in the background, he sighed. Maybe that's the best we're going to do, for now. He could only hope tomorrow would be brighter.

  * * * * *

  It's almost two o'clock. I hope he's punctual. Then again, he was always quick. Angelica grinned at her own little joke as she paced back and forth in front of her picture window. It still stunned her that she was awaiting the arrival of Joe Vanetti, the hottest athlete—and nicest young man—Rainbow Rock High School had ever produced. That she had worshiped him all through junior high and high school was one secret she'd never whispered to a soul, a secret she expected to carry to her grave. That he'd never known she was alive was obvious to anyone who'd gone to school with them both.

  Who could blame him? she pondered as she glanced at the clock yet again. He was the town's Golden Boy and I was the shy, awkward girl who made a fool of herself every time she spoke or moved. It wasn't exactly a match made in heaven. Besides, I was a junior when he was a senior, and nobody ever notices the younger kids.

  She'd certainly given him every opportunity to notice her. She felt her face warming slightly as she remembered some of those "opportunities" now. There was the time she'd been sitting in the bleachers watching him compete in the state Class A wrestling qualifiers, held in Rainbow Rock that year because the school had won the state title three years in a row. She'd just sat down with her hot dog and a can of soda when the sophomore boy in front of her had waved to one of Joe's teammates and smacked her right in the face—sending ketchup, mustard, and soda spraying in every direction and showering her in the process. She'd missed Joe's winning match while she was cleaning up.