The Ashtons: Walker, Ford & Mercedes: Betrayed Birthright / Mistaken for a Mistress / Condition of Marriage. Sheri WhiteFeather

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      Three

      Walker studied Tamra’s profile. He had so many questions about her, about his mother. He was even curious about Lakota protocol. Although he wasn’t sure why.

      “Who told you I was looking for my mom?” he asked.

      “I heard it through the moccasin telegraph. Someone who knew someone who knew someone else.” She turned onto the highway. “You’re lucky that Mary works at the PHS. That people are familiar with her. It’s not easy to locate someone on the rez.”

      “No, I suppose not.” Which was what he had been counting on. “Everything is so spread out.”

      She continued driving. By Walker’s standard, her pickup was old, an early-eighties model with plenty of mileage. But it seemed reliable enough. At least, he hoped so. He knew there were places in Indian Country where neither cell phones or CB radios worked. But for now they were still in Nebraska.

      “Did you forget about my lesson?” he asked.

      “No. I’m just deciding where to start.”

      He examined her profile again, thinking how striking she was. Her prominent cheekbones, the slight imperfection of her nose, the way her hair framed her face. Her eyes fascinated him, too. Whenever she looked at him, heat surged through his veins.

      A sexual response, he thought. Lust in the first degree.

      “We’ll start with respectful eye contact,” she said, making him blink, making him realize how closely he was watching her. “In the old way, you’re supposed to avoid eye contact with your elders. And children were taught not to stare. When you stare at someone, you’re challenging them.”

      He glanced away. He’d been staring at her from the moment they’d met. Of course, she’d done her fair share of locking gazes with him, too.

      “As for pointing,” she went on to say, “the Lakota gesture with their lips.”

      He frowned. “Their lips?”

      “Like this?” She moved her mouth in his direction.

      He tried it and made her laugh.

      “You’re overdoing it, Walker. You look like Mick Jagger.”

      He laughed, too. “What other social laws should I know about?” he asked, deciding he enjoyed her company, her relaxed sense of humor.

      “Addressing a family member by a kinship term is part of the old way.”

      “Like mother, son, daughter? That sort of thing?”

      “Yes. But some of the terms are quite specific. Older brother. Younger sister. Male to female. Female to male.”

      He leaned back in his seat, knowing this would be important to Charlotte. “What’s the term for younger sister?”

      “From a male to a female? Tanksi, I think. Sometimes I get confused. I’m still learning the language.”

      Walker nodded. He suspected that Mary hadn’t raised Tamra in a traditional manner. Not after the things she’d said about his mother avoiding the Hunka and other Lakota ceremonies. “Does my mom speak the language?”

      “She’s not fluent, but she’s working on it. We’re both trying to make up for the past. For the years we didn’t embrace our culture.” She kept her hands on the steering wheel. “But we’re still not overly traditional. We just do the best we can, trying to respect others.”

      Walker tried to picture Tamra in San Francisco, far away from the Lakota. Knowing that she’d chosen SFSU because of him and Charlotte made him feel closer to her. But it made him uncomfortable, too. She’d grown up in his shadow, and СКАЧАТЬ