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Chapter Twelve

"The Healing Way"

Peter awoke to chants and burning herbs. He opened his eyes to find the old man praying over him. He used a feather like a fan to waft the smoke from the herbs over Peter's body as he sang prayers in his native tongue. For as long as Peter could stay awake, he watched with fascination, but finally the need for sleep won out.

When he woke up the next time, he asked for something to eat. Judy brought him a tray with some delicious homemade soup, and then he slept some more. He spent most of the day in bed, napping and consuming food and liquids without getting sick. Judy woke him every hour or so to make sure he wasn't sleeping into a coma.

The old shaman's chanting had a soothing effect on him, almost like he was receiving some of the old man's chi, yet it wasn't the same sensation. It had a different feel to it, but both were helpful only in different ways. And he had to admit he felt stronger than he had upon arriving at the Whitehorse general store.

Judy came in to check on him. She looked at the dressings, and then tested his pupil response. Finally, she put a hand on his forehead. Shaking her head, she pulled out a thermometer.

Once she looked at the reading, she shook her head again. "Just what I thought. You've got a bit of a fever. It's time for your acetaminophen anyway."

She gave Peter the tablets with a glass of water. Peter saw Judy exchange a worried glance with her father-in-law, and then he launched into a new prayer to the spirits on behalf of the injured man in the room.

After a bit, he came over to Judy, and both of them assumed Peter was asleep, but he wasn't.

"Daughter, this man needs to be in a togan for proper healing. A holy place to sweat the poisons from his body."

Celeste was standing at the doorway. "Grandfather, with all due respect, we are not moving this man until he is stronger."

Judy nodded in agreement.

"I will do what I can for him here, but it may not be enough." Whitehorse Sr merely sighed and went back to his corner to pray.

A few more hours of sleep and Peter opened his eyes to see Judy and Celeste beside him. "I need to change your bandages again, hon," Judy said with a hint of apology.

"Sure, if you'll let me get dressed and move around a bit afterwards."

Celeste didn't hesitate. "No, it's too soon, Peter."

Judy put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "It might be good for him. I'll have Joey stay within easy reach of him while he's walking."

Celeste's frown of worry didn't ease with her friend's assurances. Not even when Peter joined the Whitehorses at the dinner table for a real meal while she fed Tommy in the living room.

"I still can't believe you managed to drive over Manners' Crossing with a bullet-riddled car and in your condition!" Joey exclaimed as Judy gave him a plate overflowing with good home-cooked food.

Too bad Peter's stomach felt like it was about to launch a full scale revolt if he swallowed more than a couple of bites, but it felt so good to be up and around. With Kermit arriving later that evening, he had to be ready for action anyway.

"Honey, that's what they call the walking wounded. They look fine, sound fine, but they're really about to die," Judy explained and then stopped herself with a horrified look. "I-I didn't mean you were that sick...Oh, you'll find this hard to believe me, but I worked as an RN in an ER doing triage and patient care for three years at the reservation's main hospital before Joey talked me into marrying him."

Joey and Peter just laughed at her obvious distress.

Celeste chimed in from the living room. "You are still much to pale to be up and about, but I'm not the medical expert here."

Peter was still chuckling. "I don't think I'm anywhere close to dying, not with all of this great food waiting to be eaten. That would be just too cruel."

Peter brought a fork full of food to his mouth to prove his point.

Joey nodded in agreement and patted Peter on the back, not noticing Peter's grunt of pain. "Say, Judy, did I say I liked this guy?"

Judy merely rolled her eyes. "Yes, Joey."

Peter couldn't help but notice that Celeste was even more silent and withdrawn as she

worked with Tommy in the living room, feeding him his dinner by hand. Tommy was a little more aware of his surroundings as he ate, snuggling into Celeste's embrace whenever she tried to encourage him to eat more.

When Peter finished his dinner, he walked over to them. "Hi, sport, how's it going?"

Tommy managed a mild smile at Peter's appearance.

"How about I finish giving you your dinner while Aunt Celeste goes and gets something to eat?"

Celeste shook her head automatically, knowing she was the only one allowed near Tommy when he was like that, but she was surprised when Tommy rose up a bit and nodded his head.

"Oh my God, Joey, look what's happening!" Judy said as she almost dropped an armful of dirty dishes.

Celeste slid away from Tommy and Peter slid back into her place. "Peter, you need to rest soon, too. Joey will stay near by if you need help before I come back."

Peter smiled and nodded to Joey, and then winked at Celeste. "Got it."

As Celeste walked away, Peter whispered with a tone of conspiracy, "I tell you these friends of yours really know how to cook."

Tommy smiled and opened his mouth for the spoonful of mashed potatoes Peter had ready for him. Celeste stood at the entrance to the kitchen with a hand to her mouth and tears in her eyes. Judy came out and hugged her friend, whispering, "Who would have imagined that?"

Tommy had eaten most of the food on his plate when he reached out with his hand and touched the bandage on Peter's head.

"It doesn't hurt much, sport," Peter lied.

Tommy's delicate fingers traced the growing spread of bruising and looked deep into Peter's eyes with his own wondrous silver-gray eyes. Peter's gaze darted away. "Okay, you busted me. It hurts a lot, but I've had worse and that's the truth."

Tommy pressed his hand against Peter's heart again.

Peter knew what he meant as Celeste approached quietly to take away Tommy's dinner plate. Peter was aware of her presence, but he answered anyway, "Yes, this thing on my head is nothing compared to that."

Tommy pressed his head against Peter's chest and promptly fell asleep. Celeste sat down on the coffee table and stared at Peter in awe. "What kind of magic do you have?"

Peter was confused and whispered, "What do you mean?"

"Tommy has bonded to you in a way I haven't seen with anyone except me. Why is that?"

Peter swallowed and began to speak in a low tone, "The night before we left the Zimmerman's, Tommy came to me and showed me the locket with pictures of his parents. I told him how I'd lost my parents when I was just a little older than him. I guess he thinks of me as a kindred spirit, someone who knows what it's like to have your whole world turned upside down."

Celeste had tears in her eyes and they began falling freely. "You must be an angel in disguise, or someone sent by the Great Spirits. Nothing else would explain the change in Tommy so quickly. Thank you!"

She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll have Joey put him into bed."

Peter shook his head. "Not right away. It feels good to hold him. Maybe he's helping me heal some of my old wounds I thought were long gone."

Celeste nodded. "Okay, but you need to rest yourself soon. Tell Joey when you're ready. I'll be in the kitchen with Judy."

Peter took a deep breath and brushed his fingers through Tommy's thick blonde hair. There weren't many lights on in the living room and the rising moonlight from a nearby window made Tommy's hair seem almost silver in color.

"What was it Celeste called you once? Moonglow? Good nickname for you, little guy. You've got the heart of a fighter. Just keep on fighting your way back and soon you'll be talking up a storm."

Peter continued to sit there, holding the child in his arms, whispering encouragements to him until Celeste came out and had Joey put Tommy in his bed.

"Come on, Medicine Man, time for you to go back to bed yourself."

Peter didn't argue, merely took his time to stand and slowly made his way to the bedroom with Celeste at his side all the way.

oOoOoOoOo

While Peter was sleeping, Celeste sat down with Joey and Judy.

"I know this conversation goes without saying, but I have to say it for my own peace of mind. No one, and I do mean no one, can ever know we were here or you'll be risking the lives of everyone at Ansel's, along with your own. Warn Grandfather Whitehorse for me, please."

Joey shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "I already had that conversation with him. He was the one to warn me not to speak of your presence to anyone. He also had a lot to say about Peter and Tommy."

Celeste leaned forward. "Like what?"

"It was about them and the spirits of the forest being disturbed by murderers and assassins. I usually just nod along when he starts talking about the crow telling him this or that, but not this time. This time, I think he's right on target."

Celeste swallowed in reaction and Judy reached over to take her hand. "If Grandfather's predictions come true, then remember the legends of our people. You and I both have seen some pretty strange things happen in that forest. Trust in the Great Spirits to protect you all."

oOoOoOoOo

Before leaving, Celeste and Judy gathered groceries for them to take with them to Ansel's cabin. Peter walked in just as Celeste told Jody, "I can't believe we've already been here two days."

"Me, too, but then we've been pretty busy with Tommy and Peter."

Celeste turned toward the door, seeing Peter standing in the doorway. "Speak of the devil, here he is."

Peter smiled at them and rubbed his stomach. "That apple cobbler was excellent. Thank you very much."

He glanced around the room. "Anything I can help with?"

Celeste shook her head. "No, but you can sit here and talk with us. I can't get over how quickly you have recovered from your injuries."

Peter winked at her. "Good genes."

Celeste sighed, but didn't pursue it further.

Judy handed Peter a cup of coffee and went back to organizing several items from a long list. "Just don't push it, Peter. You were seriously injured. Don't you start thinking you can play the Lone Ranger again. At least, not without the risk of serious complications," she paused, surveying him again. "Damn, but you are a miracle."

Peter shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. He stared at the bags and boxes of supplies. "What? Are we moving in for the winter?" he quipped.

Celeste smiled. "No, part of this is to replace Ansel's food supplies for the winter."

"How will Ansel taking our coming unannounced?" Peter asked, scratching at the tape holding his bandage on his temple in place.

"Not a problem. My father said he had a friend going past Ansel's place earlier today and would warn him that your group would be getting in late tonight."

Peter sighed with relief. At least that was one confrontation they wouldn't have to deal with. Joey pulled Peter aside. "You can take our other car since yours is much too noticeable for the road."

Peter reached up and put a hand on Joey's shoulder. "Thanks, Joey, but I think my partner will be arriving with something big enough to carry all of us, even with that mountain of groceries you've gathered up. There are a few things I need to buy for myself before my partner gets here."

With Joey's assistance, Peter was able to pick out a couple of shirts, jeans and underwear, along with some personal supplies since they would be spending the next few weeks with Celeste's relatives.

'Man, it'll be almost Christmas before we'll get back. Annie will have my hide if I miss Christmas. Not to mention what she'll do to Paul.'

He also bought some gifts, just in case they were still stuck at the cabin through Christmas. Something he prayed wouldn't happen. And the thought of being with Ansel for three weeks was chewing on the back of his thoughts. Dammit, the mystery man was hard to take even for a few minutes. As he stewed over their upcoming living situation, Joey called to him.

"Okay, your things are all boxed up and ready to go."

Peter reached for his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

Joey burst out laughing. "Sorry, pal, but your money isn't accepted around here."

When Peter started to protest, the towering man simply folded his arms in front of him, his expression a picture of determination.

"Ah, Joey, you don't have to do that for me. Really."

Joey only shook his head and Peter knew there would be no arguing with him.

"Okay, you win...and thanks."

Joey's demeanor changed immediately and his ever present smile returned. Peter noticed a few touristy type items on one counter, mentioning the Spirit of the Forest. "What's all that about?"

Joey shrugged. "Local folklore. Hey, it sells, so I keep ordering more," the tall man smirked at Peter.

Then Joey turned serious as he helped box up Peter's purchases. "My father truly believes there are spirits protecting the forest and those who go into it. And I guess I do too...to a certain extent. Things have happened while I've been up at Ansel's. Things that can't be explained by our logical world."

Celeste heard their discussion as they came up the stairs. "Oh Joey, don't bore Peter with legends and folklore. He doesn't know anything about the Sioux Nation and doesn't have time to take a crash course from you."

Joey protested. "Listen, my father was adamant about it this time. I tell you, Judy, the 'Spirits of the Forest' are back. The signs are too great to ignore."

Celeste started to argue, but Joey's father had entered the store without making a sound and was standing on the stairs leading to the living quarters. "Do not ignore the signs, daughter. For it will only anger the Great Spirits and they will take the "Spirits of the Forest" away from us. We all need their protection while in those forests. Too many hunters and hikers have been found dead in recent months."

"Three, Grandfather Whitehorse," Celeste countered.

"Three who should not have died and three more that are still missing," he replied as he went into Peter's bedroom.

Peter followed him into the room. "Look, I'd like to thank you for everything you've done to help in my recovery. I never imagined I'd be feeling so much better in such a short time."

The Shaman put his hand to Peter's heart, much like Tommy had done. "There is still much danger surrounding all of you. Remember this, never let Tommy out of your sight. Only together will the two of you will survive. It is your destiny."

Peter sighed. Destiny again. Sarcasm got the better of him and he asked, "Who told you that? The mountain lion?"

Whitehorse shook his head. "No, the wind. And the wind knows because it speaks often with the trees of the forest."

"Why would it be my destiny?"

"Because the Great Spirits have blessed you with healing. Because you have helped Tommy Hills heal."

Peter had a distinct impression he was speaking to a Native American version of his father, and he bowed slightly with respect. When he rose, he said, "I will remember your words...Grandfather Whitehorse."

"You have a good heart and good instincts, young man. The spirits will do the rest."

He gathered his supplies and prepared to leave the room, but then stopped where Peter had sat down on his bed. Whitehorse gave him a small object wrapped in soft leather.

"I have heard you cry out in your dreams and know that you are plagued with nightmares from your past. Perhaps, this will help quiet the nightmares for you."

Peter held up an intricately woven circle with crisscrossing lines like a spider's web. It was surrounded by tan leather with a series of beads and feathers hanging from the bottom. There was a length of leather at the top, tied off so that it could be hung from a wall or a window.

"It is said that one of the Ancients, Spider Woman, wove little dream catchers to place on the cradle boards of the babies to ensure the infants a peaceful slumber. Bad dreams stuck in the spider web-like weaving, unable to go any further, while the good dreams found their way through the openings to the visions of the dreamer.

"You need a dream catcher to stop the bad dreams from coming. Ansel Crowfoot is a man who has known bad dreams. Search him out, learn from him about the land and the spirits, he will save your life with his lifetime spent in pursuit of wisdom."

Peter kept a straight face when Whitehorse mentioned Ansel. Instead of something disrespectful, he simply said, "Thank you, Grandfather. I will take it with me."

"I have been told that if a man dwells on the past, he robs the present. But if a man ignores the past, he may rob the future. The seeds of our destiny are nurtured by the roots of our past. That is where your destiny comes in. Send your roots down into that rich past of yours and you will be able to guide yourself and Tommy along the proper path to survival."

With that said, the Shaman simply nodded once and left, leaving Peter to stare at the simple gift, wondering how much was legend and how much was truth. And the wisdom Whitehorse had just shared with him. Destiny. Why did everyone have the need talk to him about his destiny?

He sighed deeply as he held the dream catcher before his eyes, letting his thoughts drift around the detailed gift. Thoughts of destiny and survival flooded his mind. Deep down, he had a distinct sense that the old man was right.

oOoOoOoOo