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Authors: Sherryl Woods
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She’d almost forgotten why he was there. The wicked danger of it all faded when he continued to behave like a perfect gentleman.
Then came the Saturday night that snow started falling while they were sharing a meal of beef stew and homemade bread. Karen wasn’t aware that the weather had changed outside as Grady beguiled her with stories of his grandfather.
As the tales unfolded, it became evident that Thomas Blackhawk was an amazing man, one who fought to preserve his Native American heritage while getting along quite well in a white man’s world. Hewas mayor of his town in the northwest part of the state and there was some talk that he might run for a position as delegate from the region to the state legislature.
“The first time I ever saw him dressed in a suit and tie, I couldn’t believe it was him,” Grady said, his eyes twinkling. “I’d seen him most often in jeans and flannel, but there he was speaking to a crowd at a town meeting, wearing this fancy black suit, his lined face filled with pride. It was quite a transformation. When I commented on it afterward, do you know what he said?”
“What?” Karen asked, fascinated.
“That all the fancy clothes in the world couldn’t make a man respect you. It was actions that did that.”
“You love him a lot, don’t you?”
“It’s more than that,” Grady said. “I love him and I admire him. He lives a very simple life in the middle of nowhere, in a house he built himself. As a kid I spent a lot of time with him, listening to him talk about nature, about our place in the universe. He taught me all of the old legends and practices, but those weren’t the most important lessons, by far.”
“What were the really important ones?” Karen asked.
“He taught me about self-respect and loyalty, about family and duty.”
She thought she saw where this was going. “Was he the one who taught you to hate the Hansons?”
“Not to hate them,” Grady denied. “My grandfather has never hated anyone. He just made me aware that this land should have belonged to his father, that it should have been Blackhawk land.”
“In other words, he planted a seed in your head,watered it regularly and now it’s grown into this obsession,” she said, derision cutting into the admiration she had begun to feel for Thomas Blackhawk.
“It’s not an obsession, Karen. It’s a commitment. I want my grandfather to stand on this land someday, look around and know that it’s back with its rightful owners, that it’s Blackhawk land again.”
“Would he be happy about that if he knew the price you’d paid?” she asked.
“Dollars aren’t the issue,” he told her.
“No,” she agreed. “And I wasn’t talking about the amount of money you say you’re willing to put on the table. I was talking about the rest, the attempts you’ve made to force Caleb, and now me, to sell.”
He regarded her with obvious impatience. “Dammit, I’ve told you I had nothing to do with trying to sabotage your herd.”
“If not you, who?”
“Both things could have been accidents. Cattle get ill. Pastures catch on fire during a dry summer.”
She regarded him evenly. “Do you honestly believe that’s what happened? Isn’t it a little too coincidental that both the outbreak of disease and the fire happened to our herd and no one else’s?”
“I’ll admit it looks suspicious, but I had nothing to do with any of it.”
“So you say.”
“In a lot of very powerful circles, my word is good enough.”
“All that tells me is that the world is filled with foolish people,” she said, stubbornly clinging to her—no, Caleb’s—conviction that Grady couldn’t be trusted. She needed these reminders from time to time. Otherwise, it would be too easy to start to likehim a little too much, to begin to believe the pretty words that tripped so easily off his tongue.
He gave her a steady look, one clearly designed to rattle her. “Can you honestly sit there and look me in the
Then came the Saturday night that snow started falling while they were sharing a meal of beef stew and homemade bread. Karen wasn’t aware that the weather had changed outside as Grady beguiled her with stories of his grandfather.
As the tales unfolded, it became evident that Thomas Blackhawk was an amazing man, one who fought to preserve his Native American heritage while getting along quite well in a white man’s world. Hewas mayor of his town in the northwest part of the state and there was some talk that he might run for a position as delegate from the region to the state legislature.
“The first time I ever saw him dressed in a suit and tie, I couldn’t believe it was him,” Grady said, his eyes twinkling. “I’d seen him most often in jeans and flannel, but there he was speaking to a crowd at a town meeting, wearing this fancy black suit, his lined face filled with pride. It was quite a transformation. When I commented on it afterward, do you know what he said?”
“What?” Karen asked, fascinated.
“That all the fancy clothes in the world couldn’t make a man respect you. It was actions that did that.”
“You love him a lot, don’t you?”
“It’s more than that,” Grady said. “I love him and I admire him. He lives a very simple life in the middle of nowhere, in a house he built himself. As a kid I spent a lot of time with him, listening to him talk about nature, about our place in the universe. He taught me all of the old legends and practices, but those weren’t the most important lessons, by far.”
“What were the really important ones?” Karen asked.
“He taught me about self-respect and loyalty, about family and duty.”
She thought she saw where this was going. “Was he the one who taught you to hate the Hansons?”
“Not to hate them,” Grady denied. “My grandfather has never hated anyone. He just made me aware that this land should have belonged to his father, that it should have been Blackhawk land.”
“In other words, he planted a seed in your head,watered it regularly and now it’s grown into this obsession,” she said, derision cutting into the admiration she had begun to feel for Thomas Blackhawk.
“It’s not an obsession, Karen. It’s a commitment. I want my grandfather to stand on this land someday, look around and know that it’s back with its rightful owners, that it’s Blackhawk land again.”
“Would he be happy about that if he knew the price you’d paid?” she asked.
“Dollars aren’t the issue,” he told her.
“No,” she agreed. “And I wasn’t talking about the amount of money you say you’re willing to put on the table. I was talking about the rest, the attempts you’ve made to force Caleb, and now me, to sell.”
He regarded her with obvious impatience. “Dammit, I’ve told you I had nothing to do with trying to sabotage your herd.”
“If not you, who?”
“Both things could have been accidents. Cattle get ill. Pastures catch on fire during a dry summer.”
She regarded him evenly. “Do you honestly believe that’s what happened? Isn’t it a little too coincidental that both the outbreak of disease and the fire happened to our herd and no one else’s?”
“I’ll admit it looks suspicious, but I had nothing to do with any of it.”
“So you say.”
“In a lot of very powerful circles, my word is good enough.”
“All that tells me is that the world is filled with foolish people,” she said, stubbornly clinging to her—no, Caleb’s—conviction that Grady couldn’t be trusted. She needed these reminders from time to time. Otherwise, it would be too easy to start to likehim a little too much, to begin to believe the pretty words that tripped so easily off his tongue.
He gave her a steady look, one clearly designed to rattle her. “Can you honestly sit there and look me in the
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