read no contempt in his half-brother’s face.
“Have you ever been to any of their ceremonies?” he wondered.
“Yes.”
“Jess Hanks, this friend of mine at school, says that they carry rattlesnakes in their mouth.”
“The Hopi does this in his snake dance,” Hawk explained.
“Don’t they get bit?”
“Sometimes.” Hawk shrugged to show it was unimportant.
Chad digested that and looked around disinterestedly. “Is it true your mother was a whore and that she would sleep with anyone my father told her to?”
The insult sparked the flames that leaped in Hawk’s eyes. “She was his second wife. She slept with no one but him.”
Chad laughed at that. “His second wife! A man can only have one wife at a time, and he was married to my mother. If your mother slept with him, then she was a whore.”
Anger deprived Hawk of all sense of caution. It ceased to matter that Chad was older, taller, and stronger, or even that he was his half-brother. He hurled himself at him. The ferocity of the attack knocked Chad to the ground. The two scuffled in the dirt, with Hawk kicking and hitting and inflicting some damage, but Chad soon gained the upper hand. Twisting an arm behind Hawk’s back, Chad straddled him and pushed his face in the dirt.
“Do you give up?” Chad demanded in a voice that was hoarse from breathlessness. When there was no sound of surrender, he applied more pressure to the twisted arm. “Do you give?” Hawk gritted his teeth and shut out the cry of pain that tried to escape from him.
“What’s going on here?” J. B.’s gruff voice loosened Chad’s hold. In the next minute, Chad was standing up and Hawk was free. A large pair of hands insisted on helping Hawk to his feet, then brushed the dirt from his cheek. “Are you hurt, boy?” Hawk kept his eyes downcast as he shook his head in denial. “Go to the house, Chad,” his father ordered.
“But we’re supposed to go riding together,” Chad protested.
“I said go to the house!”
“I never started it. He did!” Chad cast an accusing finger at Hawk.
“I don’t care who started it! I want you to go to thehouse!” J. B. turned his head to enforce the order with a piercing look. With a mutinous set to his mouth, Chad reluctantly obeyed.
“What started the fight, Hawk?” his father demanded when Chad was gone.
Hawk lifted his head to study him with emotionless blue eyes. “Were you married to my mother?”
A certain grimness settled onto his father’s features. “Yes, we were married in the way of The People.”
“But it isn’t the way of the white man.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Because I loved your mother; therefore, I respected her ways.”
“But in the white man’s way, she wasn’t your wife.”
“In my heart, White Sage was my wife,” his father insisted.
“Then why did you not marry her in the white man’s way?” Hawk did not relent in his search for an understanding.
“Look around you, Hawk. Your mother would not have been happy here. If I had married her, this would have been her home.”
He could see the truth in his father’s words. That part was settled in his mind. “I am your son. Why don’t I live in your house?”
“It isn’t possible,” his father declared with a helpless shake of his head.
“At school they call me a half-breed—half-Indian and half-white.”
“It would be harder for you if you lived in my house,” J. B. explained wearily.
“Because they would call me a bastard,” Hawk guessed, speaking the word in a voice that held no feeling.
“Yes. Now do you understand why I don’t want you to carry that burden, too?”
“Are you worried how people will think of me, or how they will think of you?” he asked, exhibiting a wisdom beyond his years.
Guilt blanched his father’s face. “Try to understand, Hawk. There are more people involved than just you and me. I have to consider Katheryn and Chad, too. I’ve provided you with a good
“Have you ever been to any of their ceremonies?” he wondered.
“Yes.”
“Jess Hanks, this friend of mine at school, says that they carry rattlesnakes in their mouth.”
“The Hopi does this in his snake dance,” Hawk explained.
“Don’t they get bit?”
“Sometimes.” Hawk shrugged to show it was unimportant.
Chad digested that and looked around disinterestedly. “Is it true your mother was a whore and that she would sleep with anyone my father told her to?”
The insult sparked the flames that leaped in Hawk’s eyes. “She was his second wife. She slept with no one but him.”
Chad laughed at that. “His second wife! A man can only have one wife at a time, and he was married to my mother. If your mother slept with him, then she was a whore.”
Anger deprived Hawk of all sense of caution. It ceased to matter that Chad was older, taller, and stronger, or even that he was his half-brother. He hurled himself at him. The ferocity of the attack knocked Chad to the ground. The two scuffled in the dirt, with Hawk kicking and hitting and inflicting some damage, but Chad soon gained the upper hand. Twisting an arm behind Hawk’s back, Chad straddled him and pushed his face in the dirt.
“Do you give up?” Chad demanded in a voice that was hoarse from breathlessness. When there was no sound of surrender, he applied more pressure to the twisted arm. “Do you give?” Hawk gritted his teeth and shut out the cry of pain that tried to escape from him.
“What’s going on here?” J. B.’s gruff voice loosened Chad’s hold. In the next minute, Chad was standing up and Hawk was free. A large pair of hands insisted on helping Hawk to his feet, then brushed the dirt from his cheek. “Are you hurt, boy?” Hawk kept his eyes downcast as he shook his head in denial. “Go to the house, Chad,” his father ordered.
“But we’re supposed to go riding together,” Chad protested.
“I said go to the house!”
“I never started it. He did!” Chad cast an accusing finger at Hawk.
“I don’t care who started it! I want you to go to thehouse!” J. B. turned his head to enforce the order with a piercing look. With a mutinous set to his mouth, Chad reluctantly obeyed.
“What started the fight, Hawk?” his father demanded when Chad was gone.
Hawk lifted his head to study him with emotionless blue eyes. “Were you married to my mother?”
A certain grimness settled onto his father’s features. “Yes, we were married in the way of The People.”
“But it isn’t the way of the white man.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Because I loved your mother; therefore, I respected her ways.”
“But in the white man’s way, she wasn’t your wife.”
“In my heart, White Sage was my wife,” his father insisted.
“Then why did you not marry her in the white man’s way?” Hawk did not relent in his search for an understanding.
“Look around you, Hawk. Your mother would not have been happy here. If I had married her, this would have been her home.”
He could see the truth in his father’s words. That part was settled in his mind. “I am your son. Why don’t I live in your house?”
“It isn’t possible,” his father declared with a helpless shake of his head.
“At school they call me a half-breed—half-Indian and half-white.”
“It would be harder for you if you lived in my house,” J. B. explained wearily.
“Because they would call me a bastard,” Hawk guessed, speaking the word in a voice that held no feeling.
“Yes. Now do you understand why I don’t want you to carry that burden, too?”
“Are you worried how people will think of me, or how they will think of you?” he asked, exhibiting a wisdom beyond his years.
Guilt blanched his father’s face. “Try to understand, Hawk. There are more people involved than just you and me. I have to consider Katheryn and Chad, too. I’ve provided you with a good
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