“What is the problem?” Jennifer asked calmly, as if she didn’t know.
“Jen, you and I, we…have nothing in common, we don’t belong together.”
Jennifer nodded slowly. “I see. Then what are you doing with me? Did I seduce you? I don’t recall it, I don’t make it a practice to ravish big, strong football players.”
He didn’t respond, not meeting her eyes.
Jennifer’s anger was a defense against her pain. “I have a question for you,” she said. “If you feel this way, why do you torment me by coming back?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Ah, yes, poor Nitsokan, torn between two worlds, unable to help himself, hung up on a woman who’s wrong for him. Do you know that you’re a hypocrite, Lee? You harbor the same prejudices against me that you once thought I had against Indians. What makes you so sure you’re right about this? Have I ever asked you to do anything contrary to your background or your beliefs?”
He dropped his eyes. “Not yet,” he said softly. “But one day.”
Jennifer folded her trembling hands together, trying for control. “If you honestly believe that, after what we just shared in that bedroom, then I think you’d better leave.”
Lee stood abruptly, thrusting his hands through his hair. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right,” Jennifer said flatly. “I don’t understand. The last time, when you left, I convinced myself that you were right. I knew what you were thinking, and I believed it, too. But now there’s tonight between us, and it’s becoming clearer every minute that the bottom line is either you have faith in me, or you don’t. And you obviously don’t.”
Lee turned on her, his eyes blazing the way they had when he’d spoken of his sister. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!” he said bitterly. He jabbed his thumb at his bare chest. “Look at me. Do you think because I went to college, talk like an accountant, wear these clothes, that I am like you? What did you expect, war paint and sign language? What you see is a survival suit, protective coloration. Don’t be fooled by it Underneath I am as red as Montana clay.”
His voice was hoarse, his features contorted. “I am Siksika, Nitsokan, Youngest Son.” His hands stabbed the air, the right rubbing the left, back and forth twice, making the sign for “Indian” he’d once showed her, followed by another she didn’t understand. “I am Indian, and I am not like you.”
Gone was the light tone of the early days, when he had joked about Chingachgook. This was no laughing matter now. He saw a threat to his basic identity in his strong feeling for Jennifer and was asserting himself in the most fundamental way: “I am Indian, and I am not like you.”
They stood facing each other, emotional, spent Jennifer felt the rejection and struck back with her best weapon, words.
“Funny how these scruples always arise after, you’ve slept with me,” she said nastily. “They never seem to bother you before.”
He flinched, as if she’d struck him. “That’s a cheap shot, Jen, unworthy of you. I don’t deserve it.”
Jennifer put her hand to her mouth, choking back a sob. She would not cry in front of him.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” she said. “I’m hurt and confused and somewhat lacking in tact this evening.”
Lee studied her face, his own unreadable. “I’m sorry I hurt you, paleface. I never meant to.”
“Just go, will you please go?”
She didn’t watch him go back to the bedroom for the rest of his things and didn’t turn when she heard him pause behind her.
“Jen, I—” he began.
“Leave. Now.”
He did so, and she waited for the sound of his motor to fade away outside before she gave way to the tears she’d held in check so carefully.
Goodbye, Nitsokan.
Chapter 8
Jennifer made herself sick over the whole thing. She threw up her breakfast two mornings running and was so tired she could barely keep awake. To make matters worse, she was overdue for her period, and felt bloated and out of sorts. She called in sick to work for several days and spent her time at home sleeping and feeling sorry for herself.
Dolores kept her posted on what was happening with daily telephone calls and startled her by concluding one conversation with the bulletin that Lee was also.
“What’s the matter with him?” Jennifer asked, alarmed.
“He has the chicken pox.”
Jennifer laughed so hard she dropped the phone.
Dolores’ voice came tinnily through the receiver. “Jen? You still there?”
Jennifer picked the receiver up again, wiping her eyes. “Yes, I’m still here. Are you sure about that story?”
“Sure as sunrise. They think he caught it during that visit to the children’s hospital with you. You’ll probably be next.”
“No fear. I had it in second grade. Whatever I’ve got, that isn’t it How long will he be off the roster?”
“Two weeks or so. Roy says he’s mad as hell. Everybody else thinks it’s hilarious. So do you, I gather.”
“Funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”
There was a pause. “What’s going on with you and Lee?”
“Nothing.” At the moment, that was true.
“Hmmm. A likely story. Well, I won’t keep you. Rest up and take care of yourself, I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye-bye.”
“Bye.” Jennifer hung up, still chuckling. She went to her bedroom to turn on the radio, and glanced at the pillows where Lee’s head had rested. Her resentment of him faded with each passing day, leaving only the love behind. He couldn’t help how he felt, and his convictions were hurting him as well as Jennifer. No one would ever be as good for him or love him as much as Jennifer did. And he would never want anyone the way he wanted her. Jennifer knew that on some subconscious level he was well aware of all this, and he would have to live with the choice he had made for the rest of his life.
She lay down on the bed and took another nap.
* * * *
Jennifer was back at work a week when Dolores buzzed her on the intercom one afternoon.
“Dawn Blacktree to see you,” Dolores said.
Jennifer put aside the work she was doing, puzzled. What was this? She had sent Lee a funny get well card, but had not expected a reply and so far had received none. Could this visit be connected to that impulsive act? Was Dawn here to tell her that Lee wanted no further communication between them?
“Send her in,” she told Dolores.
Dolores opened the door, eyeing Jennifer cautiously. She lingered as long as was decently possible and then went out quietly, closing the door. Jennifer wasn’t fooled. She was probably standing on the other side with a glass to her ear.
Dawn was looking very lovely, dressed in a deep rose pantsuit, her glorious hair falling straight to her waist from a center part. She seated herself gracefully in a conference chair and gazed serenely at Jennifer.
“Hello, Dawn. It’s nice to see you again. What can I do for you?”
“Lee asked me to come in to see you. Our local newspaper in Montana needs copies of some of his publicity releases. They’re preparing a Lee Youngson Day back home, a sort of a county fair, and the proceeds from the booths and exhibits will go to the Indian school Lee and I attended. This is a list of the publications and the dates.”
Jennifer took the sheet of paper Dawn handed her, aware that Lee had sent Dawn to do this rather than call Jennifer himself.
“I’ll have duplicates prepared today and mail them to Lee’s house.”
“Thank you.” Dawn smoothed her tunic over her knees. “That is not the only reason I came, Ms. Gardiner.”
“Please call me Jennifer.”
“All right, Jennifer. I could have telephoned, but I wanted to see you in person.”
Jennifer waited, watching the Indian girl.
“Lee has been ill,” Dawn began.
“Yes, I heard that I hope he’s feeling better now.”