Breaking Free: A Colorado High Country Crossover Novel by Pamela Clare (well read books .TXT) 📗

time with nausea for a while, too. But you’re feeling better?”

“I’m twelve weeks as of yesterday, and the past week hasn’t been bad.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He glanced at his watch. “We need to go. Your man is waiting. I think all of Scarlet turned up. They’re sitting on the ground around the party tent and picnicking in the backs of their pickups.”

Winona laughed. “I warned Jason that would happen.”

Chaska walked with Winona out of the cabin and toward the side entrance at the rear of the party tent, where her bridesmaids fussed with her gown. And then the music started—Bach’s Air on the G String.

Lexi turned and gave Winona one last smile before starting down the aisle, Kat following a few moments later.

Naomi glanced back at them. “I love you both.”

Then it was just Chaska and Winona.

Winona’s pulse quickened as they entered the tent and started up the walk up to the altar together. Looking impossibly handsome, Jason stood with his groomsmen at the front, Grandpa beside them, all of her friends and loved ones rising to their feet.

Later, Winona wouldn’t remember the tears that spilled down her face or her nervousness as she walked up the aisle. All she would remember was the love shining in Jason’s eyes as they vowed to care for one another all the days of their lives.

Winona leaned back against Jason, his arms around her, the two of them watching the clouds drift in front of the stars, her heart so full of happiness it seemed to overflow. Music, conversation, and laughter spilled out of the party tent, the scent of ponderosa pine carried on a cool summer breeze.

It had been a perfect day.

Jason nuzzled her ear. “I can’t wait to get you to our hotel so I can strip that gorgeous dress off you and have married sex.”

Winona liked that idea. “We should say goodbye to our guests and drive Grandpa home. He must be tired.”

They had an early morning flight to Mazatlán, so they had booked a suite next to the airport. Jason wanted to share his other homeland with her, so they were honeymooning in Mexico.

“Where is Old Man?”

“He and Jack have been talking all evening. They’re new best friends or something.” Winona supposed it wasn’t that much of a surprise. For two men from completely different worlds, they had a lot in common. “They’ve been sitting in the exact same spot since we finished dinner.”

“Yeah. I see them now.” Jason chuckled. “They’re still talking.”

“Did you see the look on Grandpa’s face when we told him I was pregnant?”

“I did.” Jason’s hand moved to caress her belly through the silk of her dress. “That entire wrinkled-apple face of his turned into one big smile, and that laugh…”

“One minute, he was telling me he was ready to make the journey now that I was settled. The next, he said he had to stick around because he had young people to teach.”

“Your grandfather is one of a kind.”

“He’s what traditionals would call a true Lakota.”

“Let’s see if he’s ready to go.” Jason threaded his fingers through hers, and they started back toward the party tent.

Winona saw they were near the maze. “I’ve never actually walked it, you know. Is it as hard as the kids say?”

“Give it a try.”

“Now?”

“Why not?”

Winona found the entrance and set off, trying to find the center. The stone walls were high enough that she couldn’t see dead ends until they were before her. Jason watched, laughing, as she retraced her steps several times, twice going all the way back to the beginning. “Another dead end?”

Jason went to stand at the entrance. “Come here. I’ll help you.”

This time, she walked with him as he guided her at last to the center.

“Woohoo! Journey’s end. That was hard. I can see how your old ones found the maze to be a metaphor for life’s journey—all the twists and turns, not being able to see what lies ahead until you’re there. And here we are—the two of us—at the start of our journey together, with a baby coming.”

Jason looked into her eyes, his expression now serious. “When you walked down the aisle today, one thing became clear for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Wherever life takes us from here, Win, you are my center.”

Then he drew her close and kissed her.

We hope you enjoyed this story. Read on for a special note from the author.

Author’s Note

Jason and Winona’s story was born out of the fifteen years of my journalism career spent reporting on Native issues. As a journalist, I made a conscious choice to give the voice I had to others, focusing on women in prison and Native peoples. I learned all I could about the challenges these two groups face and did my best to share their struggles with my readership.

From the start, I had two rules for myself when it came to covering Native issues. The first was not to go to any reservation without first being asked to come. I did not want to be the stereotypical white journalist who asks questions about the wrong things of the wrong people in the wrong way—and then gets the answers wrong in print.

My second rule was to never go to any ceremony without being invited. I refused to impose myself on people practicing their own beliefs or to make demands of their time. I was an outsider, and I knew it. My job was to report, not to invade.

Then one afternoon, I got a call from a woman in Denver who’d heard from her husband, a Sun Dancer, that the elders wanted me to report on the harassment of Sun Dancers by federal agents.

I dropped everything, hopped in my car, and made the twelve-hour drive over rutted, unpaved roads with a map drawn on a napkin to the Sun Dance site. I had to go off-road to get around a federal van that was blocking access to the site. I covered the story as best I could and, in the