Silk and Stone Read Online Free PDF Page A

kept to themselves, clinging to pieces of land so rugged, no one would challenge them for it.
    Clara Big Stick clung to traditions just as tenaciously.
    The Raincrow babies were a matter of professional concern to Clara. As a medicine woman, it was her duty to give them the proper protection against evil after they entered the world, even if she disapproved of their parents’ mixed marriage. She was, after all, honor-bound to treat members of her own clan, which the Raincrow twins were, but only on a technicality.
    Clara brooded over the ethical quandary as she followed Rachel Raincrow’s spry path up the brick steps of Pandora’s small hospital. Certainly she had an obligation to Rachel Raincrow—a respected elder, and her distant cousin—who had requested her services. She figured the matter of the babies’ clan would have to be accepted, problems and all. By rights they belonged to their mother’s clan, but because Hugh Raincrow had seen fit to marry a white woman, and whites had no clans, traditions would have to be juggled.
    The spirits might not be entirely fooled, but some protection was better than none at all.
    Short, sturdy, and strong—at forty, she was in the prime of her career—Clara easily shouldered a heavy woven bag filled with her materials. She cast dour looks at the squat little hospital’s lobby as Rachel Raincrow led her through, ignoring the curious stares of the nurses.Sacred ceremonies could not be confined to impersonal places. White people were so ignorant.
    “My son is not here right now,” Rachel whispered in Cherokee as they made their way through a maze of short hallways and then double doors marked MATERNITY WARD . “He went home to sleep. Sarah said we should come now. She knows this is important, and he doesn’t believe.”
    Clara frowned thoughtfully. “She’s a wise woman, even if she’s not one of the people.” This fact reassured Clara. Surely the mother’s good heart would account for something.
    They entered a small private room filled with flowers—that was a good sign—but smelling unpleasantly of useless things like antiseptic. Clara saw immediately she had her work cut out for her: Rachel’s freckled, red-haired daughter-in-law was lying in the bed, and looked none too well. This show of weakness might encourage bad spirits to waltz right in. “Sit up,” Clara told her, dropping her medicine bag into a chair and going to Sarah.
    Sarah groaned. “Mrs. Big Stick, I had a cesarean twelve hours ago.”
    “I can’t help that.
Sit up.
”
    She nodded wanly. Clara and Rachel helped her scoot back and lean against the pillows. They smoothed her frilly cotton nightgown, and Clara made a satisfied mental note of the stains on the front. “You’re feeding them yourself?” she asked.
    Sarah chuckled. “Oh, yes. They eat like horses. The nurses think I’m being peculiar, but I don’t want bottles.”
    “Nurses are crazy.” The poor, abused girl had the courage to smile at her. “See my beautiful babies?” She pointed to a pair of bassinets beside the bed. Clara nodded brusquely and went to them, shaking her head in disgust when she saw how many clothes they wore. Goodness, the spirits would think these two couldn’t survive at all.
    She removed their tiny shirts, their caps, their diapers, then sighed with relief. One boy, one girl. A goodbalance. “What do you think?” Rachel asked, peering over her shoulder worriedly. She spoke only in Cherokee, as Clara had instructed. Best that the spirits think these babies belonged entirely to the people. “Big, with clear eyes,” Clara noted approvingly. “Strong genitals.” She peered into their eyes and stroked their fine black hair. Their skin would be awfully pale, she feared, and their light eyes would undoubtedly be green, like their mother’s.
    “They have it,” Rachel said proudly, laying one gnarled hand on each of their heads. “Like me. They have the gift. I can feel it.”
    “Are you certain?”