her pistol, then put on her windbreaker. She was almost ready to go when Rose came into the room.
“You’re leaving? You just got here.”
“I won’t be gone long.”
“Don’t you want any dessert?”
“I’ll have some when I come back, okay?”
“When are you going to start taking some time for yourself? You haven’t had your friends over in a long time. I can accept that youdon’t want to marry Wilson, though I just don’t understand why. But how are you going to meet anyone if all you do is work and play with your computer?”
“I love Wilson, he’s been a great friend. But I’m not in love with him; that’s why we could never marry. And I’m not looking to meet anyone either,” she said, kissing her mother on the cheek. “Not everyone’s life’s path is the same.”
“You will want to marry again someday, daughter. I just hope it won’t be too late by then for you to give me grandchildren.”
Ella walked out the door, knowing from experience that this conversation was going nowhere. They’d had it a million times before. She’d fallen in love and been married once, and had found her identity as a wife, but she’d been young then, and more uncertain of who she was. But herhusband had died. Since that time, she’d matured and found her own sense of purpose. She’d never again be able to adapt so easily to the needs and demands of married life, even if she did happen to fall in love again. Her priorities were different now, just as she was different from the girl she’d been then.
It had been an extremely long day, and Ella’s thoughts drifted as she drove down thealmost deserted highway. The moon was hidden behind a cloud, and the syrupy darkness of the unlit highway was by now so familiar to her it seemed routine. At night this stretch of highway was illuminated only by headlights, and the moon when a driver was lucky. But she knew every pothole and every curve by heart.
She listened to the silence around her. Even the two-way radio was still. Policework could be lonely at times, but she couldn’t envision herself doing anything else.
Ella thought of Wilson Joe. Despite her mother’s wishes, there could never have been a future between them. Although his devotion to teaching was as great as hers to police work, she didn’t think he’d ever be able to put up with the long hours, and the pressure, and the nightmares that were all part of her work.Eventually, her career would have driven a wedge between them.
Ella was almost at the Totah Café when, along the outer edge of light cast by her headlights, she caught a glimpse of an elderly Navajo woman wearing a canvas jacket and the usual colorful scarf over her head. With the assistance of a cane, she was walking back and forth beside a truck on the shoulder of the road, adjacent to whatlooked like a used pickup lot. Ella pulled in behind her and called dispatch, giving her ’20.
The elderly woman approached Ella’s vehicle, speaking fast in Navajo. Ella couldn’t make out a word of it.
“Calm down,” she said, hooking the mike back up and opening her door. “Do you speak English?”
Another stream of fast Navajo was her only reply. Ella got out and went over to look at the woman’struck. The minute she was clear of her Jeep, all the headlights came on from the parked trucks. Trapped by the row of bright lights, she couldn’t see. Ella reached back for her gun with one hand, shielding her eyes with the other.
“This is only a warning,” a surprisingly clear voice boomed out from behind the glare. She could tell from the rhythm of his speech that the man who spoke was Navajo,though she couldn’t see his face.
“We could have killed you tonight—understand that. The danger to you doesn’t come from us, but if you don’t back off, we will not be held responsible for your safety. We will handle the problems at the mine, and restore harmony. Do not interfere.”
“Who are you?” she demanded. “Why are you afraid
“You’re leaving? You just got here.”
“I won’t be gone long.”
“Don’t you want any dessert?”
“I’ll have some when I come back, okay?”
“When are you going to start taking some time for yourself? You haven’t had your friends over in a long time. I can accept that youdon’t want to marry Wilson, though I just don’t understand why. But how are you going to meet anyone if all you do is work and play with your computer?”
“I love Wilson, he’s been a great friend. But I’m not in love with him; that’s why we could never marry. And I’m not looking to meet anyone either,” she said, kissing her mother on the cheek. “Not everyone’s life’s path is the same.”
“You will want to marry again someday, daughter. I just hope it won’t be too late by then for you to give me grandchildren.”
Ella walked out the door, knowing from experience that this conversation was going nowhere. They’d had it a million times before. She’d fallen in love and been married once, and had found her identity as a wife, but she’d been young then, and more uncertain of who she was. But herhusband had died. Since that time, she’d matured and found her own sense of purpose. She’d never again be able to adapt so easily to the needs and demands of married life, even if she did happen to fall in love again. Her priorities were different now, just as she was different from the girl she’d been then.
It had been an extremely long day, and Ella’s thoughts drifted as she drove down thealmost deserted highway. The moon was hidden behind a cloud, and the syrupy darkness of the unlit highway was by now so familiar to her it seemed routine. At night this stretch of highway was illuminated only by headlights, and the moon when a driver was lucky. But she knew every pothole and every curve by heart.
She listened to the silence around her. Even the two-way radio was still. Policework could be lonely at times, but she couldn’t envision herself doing anything else.
Ella thought of Wilson Joe. Despite her mother’s wishes, there could never have been a future between them. Although his devotion to teaching was as great as hers to police work, she didn’t think he’d ever be able to put up with the long hours, and the pressure, and the nightmares that were all part of her work.Eventually, her career would have driven a wedge between them.
Ella was almost at the Totah Café when, along the outer edge of light cast by her headlights, she caught a glimpse of an elderly Navajo woman wearing a canvas jacket and the usual colorful scarf over her head. With the assistance of a cane, she was walking back and forth beside a truck on the shoulder of the road, adjacent to whatlooked like a used pickup lot. Ella pulled in behind her and called dispatch, giving her ’20.
The elderly woman approached Ella’s vehicle, speaking fast in Navajo. Ella couldn’t make out a word of it.
“Calm down,” she said, hooking the mike back up and opening her door. “Do you speak English?”
Another stream of fast Navajo was her only reply. Ella got out and went over to look at the woman’struck. The minute she was clear of her Jeep, all the headlights came on from the parked trucks. Trapped by the row of bright lights, she couldn’t see. Ella reached back for her gun with one hand, shielding her eyes with the other.
“This is only a warning,” a surprisingly clear voice boomed out from behind the glare. She could tell from the rhythm of his speech that the man who spoke was Navajo,though she couldn’t see his face.
“We could have killed you tonight—understand that. The danger to you doesn’t come from us, but if you don’t back off, we will not be held responsible for your safety. We will handle the problems at the mine, and restore harmony. Do not interfere.”
“Who are you?” she demanded. “Why are you afraid
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