Pathway to Truth: Oregon Valley - Matson Creek Series, #3

By Beverly Kovatch

While Rebecca seeks to find out who she is, and where she came from, her best friend Maggie learns more about the Indian Spirit world than she ever thought possible. As Maggie searches for her missing friend, her struggles and secrets produce a challenge she will have to overcome. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Beverly Kovatch
• Release date: Jun 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533781260

Beverly Kovatch

This Author is about as unknown as one can become. She sometimes lives in the past, sometimes in the future, sometimes right in the middle of the present. Her mind wanders from what was to what is to what could be. That is the power of the written and spoken word. There are so many opportunities for so many people, and she wonders why no one seems to seek them out. She lives on a farm in what was once a vast farmland area. A few people still believe in farming, but each year, there seem to be fewer and fewer of them. This past year, it appears that the moral background of the world is rapidly disappearing. It takes hard work to be a farmer nowadays. It is a lot easier to sit back and watch others do it. People have taken this place we call home for granted. The pandemic threw us all for a loop, but it also made some realize that unless we fight for what we believe in, our country, the one we all grew up in, could be lost. It took hard work and determination for us to be where we are, and all of it started with a small dream. You see, everything in life begins with a dream. This Author once dreamt she could one day write a book that others might enjoy reading, and here she is. She has written not one book but more than twenty books. Some people dream of owning just a small piece of land, owning their own little business, raising their families in a free land, a place where we are allowed to say what we feel in our hearts, fight for what we believe in, worship at the church of our choice. These past few years have taught this Author that there is power in our words. Once our words are silenced, we have given up one of our most treasured rights. It is my hope, my dream, that the power that you, my readers, have within you will never be silenced. The dreams you hold inside will always be fulfilled, and that you will always and forever … Keep on Dreaming!

Book preview

Prelude

It was the end of May , the baby was due soon, and Rebecca was feeling lost and confused by the things that had transpired in the last few weeks.  She had many questions and needed answers. Rebecca was feeling sad for deceiving Maggie. Maggie was one of the few people who loved her and would help her, but Rebecca knew she had to do this alone.  She would have to seek her answers from those whom she hoped would remember.

Rebecca got into the truck and drove to the reservation.  She could only hope that Mason’s grandparents would remember something, some kind of clue as to who she was and where she belonged. All Rebecca needed was just a tiny piece of information to give her a start on this crazy fact-finding journey. She needed to put her questions to rest or go crazy trying to figure out why her father had lied to her all these years.

Rebecca drove down the old dirt road and parked the truck in front of Shawnna’s trailer, and apprehension of what she had to ask came over her.

She sat there wondering where this new road would take her as Shawnna hurried out of the house, excited to see her.

Rebecca, look at you, oh, our precious baby must be due very soon.  Come, Come, sit, let me get you a cool glass of ice tea. she insisted as she ran back into the house.  Rebecca smiled, knowing Shawnna was always the hostess. She admired Shawnna. This little old woman had seen the worst that life could shove on anyone, yet she was always joyful and caring. Shawnna was short and stocky with long dark wavy hair. She spoke English well, but she had an accent that Rebecca could never quite figure out. Shawnna had told her once that her tribe originated in Alaska, and her father had been a French fur trader. Shawnna loved people, and she loved to be around people.  It didn’t matter who you were; she would take you in. Everyone was family to her. If you missed visiting her or calling her for more than a week, you ended up in trouble.

She took great care of Grey Fox, and all of the family attested his longevity to her constant care. Rebecca sat on the front porch enjoying her time with Shawnna sipping ice tea while a soft cool breeze caused the new-sprung leaves to shiver.

I cannot wait to hold that precious great-grandchild of mine.

It will be just a few more weeks, grandma.

Rebecca didn’t wish to hurt Shawnna, but she knew that she would be going on a journey that could take her far from this place if she found any helpful information regarding her father.

"Gram, I have some questions. I am asking you to remember things that happened years ago, but they are important to me. Dr. Morehouse has told me something that I don’t understand. I need some answers, and I have to ask someone who was there when all this happened. I need someone to tell me what went on and why my father chose to lie to me. He said my father showed up at his clinic one night and left, suddenly heading to your village to seek out the medicine man.  

I know his words are true because I found a similar story written in Heather’s diary. What I don’t know is where he lived. Did my father ever tell you? How do I find my people?"

Shawnna was deeply disturbed by Rebecca’s revelation. The tribal leaders met and agreed that Takoda’s secret would remain a secret.

At all costs, she needed to protect Rebecca. Heather was not Indian. She had not been part of this.

How careless to have assumed that she too would not be curious as to her husband’s secret? She wondered now how she could fix this without making Rebecca more curious.

My sweet Rebecca, it was so long ago when your father arrived in our village. At the time, our concern was more for you than where he came from, I am afraid. You were running a high fever. If it hadn’t been for the care of Heather and the medicine of Red Hawk, I am not sure that you would have survived the night. We were all surprised that you did.

What about my real mother? Did he ever mention her or who she was?

We never asked him personal things. That night all he said was that he could not return to his village.

I do not understand why he never told me that Heather was not my mother. Why did he lead me to believe that she was? What was my father hiding? Did he kidnap me? Did I belong to him?  There are just so many questions.  

My child, you should not worry yourself over these things. Your father left many times over the years, but he always returned, and I am sure he will return. You must be patient, that’s all; when he returns, he will answer all your questions.

How can I be patient. My father has been gone for almost a year now, with no word from him at all.  Even as a child, I do not ever remember him leaving us for more than a few days. She paused, taking a deep breath. What am I supposed to think?

Shawnna sat quietly for a moment, contemplating what she was going to say. She had to tell her something substantial, or Rebecca would continue to seek answers that they had kept secret for years.

"Heather told me that she thought he once returned to his village. It was not long after he came. It was while you were still quite ill. He left you with her and was gone a couple of days. She also told me that he disappeared with you when you were just a few months old and was gone for several days.  She was terrified that he would not return because he had taken you with him.

When he returned, he was sad and spoke not a word. It was as though he was in mourning.  He told Heather that his home was now with her and that he would not leave her again. She tried to get him to tell her where you both had been, but he said that the place no longer existed. She never understood what he meant. Maybe someday, the Great Spirit will reveal these things to you. You should not worry so much about the past but look forward to your future. Soon we will have a new baby to spoil, and this baby will be the leader of our tribe."

The words leader of our tribe frightened Rebecca. This task was supposed to be Mason’s, not hers. It just seemed that Mason had a mysterious way of always leaving her to handle the hard stuff alone.  She felt guilty, knowing that it had not been his intention of leaving her alone. It just happened, and she had to move on, even if it meant she had to take on his responsibilities.

"If you have more questions, maybe you should ask Grey Fox.  He may surprise you at what he remembers, although some of it may sound crazy.

Lately, he has been telling tales of his youth that do not make much sense; however, he and Takoda often talked.  Maybe your father confided in him.  He will want to see you. This past week he has been asking for you and Mason. Sometimes he seems to forget that Mason is not here any longer. I have Red Hawk’s son take him to the Hot Springs, and sometimes he gets confused when he has been there.  He tells me that he has had deep conversations with Mason there."

Maybe I should go with him to the Hot Spring then. I have a lot of things that I would like to discuss with Mason right now. Rebecca said, rolling her eyes. Suddenly both of them broke out in laughter, finally ending the tension that had been in the air.

Shawnna hugged Rebecca tight and walked with her to the teepee of Grey Fox.  When she entered, she found him sitting on the ground on buffalo furs, and his eyes closed tight as if he were a statue.  The fire in the teepee sent off gentle warmth. The silent way he sat there with his legs crossed reminded her of Silver Wolf. She thought that the cold hard ground underneath the bear furs would be pretty uncomfortable for someone of his age, but he did not seem to mind at all.

Rebecca is here, Shawnna said, breaking his silent trance. She wanted to be sure that he realized Rebecca was there to visit since his mind had seemed to wander into the past so much lately.

He opened his eyes; his smile at seeing her told her he was very pleased.

How happy I am to see you, my child. Come sit by me. He patted the ground next to him. I am so glad that you have decided to visit me, Rebecca." 

To Rebecca, he seemed very alert, unlike what Shawnna had just revealed to her.  

Grandfather, it is so good to see you too. I have meant to come sooner. I am sorry it took me so long. Are you up to having some company today?

Of course, my child, I am always pleased to see you. I only wish that Mason had come with you.

He shook his head as if disappointed. 

He should not waste this time. He still has so much to learn. His mother was a good woman, but she did not teach him the Indian ways.  If my son had lived, he would not have allowed Mason to be uneducated in his Indian heritage.  Kate and that Yancey they taught him to be a white man, a cowboy, not what he truly was a warrior.

He seemed agitated at the very thought of his grandson wearing a cowboy hat instead of an Indian headdress.

Mason used to love to ride; they had ridden together many times at Heaven’s Gate.  The wide-open field gave way to a beautiful valley below, and sometimes they would ride for hours, taking in all the beauty. She would make sure not to tell Grey Fox that she was the one that bought him the cowboy hat.

Grey Fox enjoyed visits from his grandchildren. He was especially pleased when they asked questions about their heritage.  He was a walking book of knowledge regarding Indian ways and legends, and he loved to share his wisdom.

"Grandfather, I have been given some news about myself that has been very frustrating to me.  You spoke many times with my father, so I hope you can answer some questions for me. I need to know if you can remember anything about my father, especially when he first came to the reservation.

When I saw my father last, he said he was returning to our reservation, and I assumed that meant here, but he did not return here. Did he ever mention where he came from to you?"

Grey Fox sat silent for a moment as if he was debating just what he would tell Rebecca. It made her uncomfortable. Why did it seem that everyone hesitated when it came to answering questions concerning her father?

When your father came to us, he was quite frightened. He did not speak much, and he was running in fear. He was fearful for you.  His village was in much turmoil and sickness. He was afraid that you were going to die. He sacrificed all to save you. He did not say more than that. Your father was consumed by the fact that he was losing his only child. Heather and Red Hawk worked all night trying to bring you through the high fever and illness.

I know that part, grandfather; what I need to know is if he ever mentioned my real mother.

Grey Fox’s attention seemed to wander off at that moment. It almost seemed as if he were using it as a means to avoid her question.

Takoda knew the old ways. His father believed in keeping those things alive.  We talked for hours about the ways of our people. Young people today do not seem to care for those ways any longer. He said with sadness in his voice. His thoughts went wandering again. What he was saying was not the information that she wanted to hear.  

She was not sure now that Grey Fox was capable of remembering the details that she needed.

Suddenly, as if he had been talking the whole time, he blurted out. My wife Juanita was a beautiful woman. Her mother was Mexican, her father, Cheyenne. Her long dark hair curled around her face just as yours does.  When she carried our son, she told me she had the perfect name for him.  She wanted our son to be called John Mason.

He paused for a moment as if he was seeing them in front of him again.

"When I asked her why this name, she said that a young man named John Mason had once saved her. 

My father arranged our marriage. He said she was of good stock, strong, firm. He called me weak and told me that I needed a strong older woman who would make me a man. He laughed a little, breaking the momentary awkwardness of his statement. I have long outlived my father in years." He chuckled again.

She, Juanita, I mean was several years older than I was, more experienced for sure. She told me about a half-breed who came into our village with some friends one night. He was handsome, or so she said.  I was probably seventeen at the time and out sewing my wild oats, I am sure. My Juanita was a good lover, and she had much experience before she became my wife. She was maybe twelve or thirteen years old the first time she had been with a man. At the time, old enough to be married according to village law.

"Her father was angry because the Indian he had arranged for her to marry brought her back, telling him she was no good, and he did not want her. Soon my precious Juanita was a widow. No one knows for sure what happened. There was speculation that Juanita’s father killed him for dishonoring her.

Juanita was a wild one, free-spirited, and she desired to marry someone who would someday be a great warrior.

So what happened? How did the two of you get together?

"My father was next in line to be chief. He was in charge of keeping things under control in the village. So it did not take long for the gossip in the village to reach my father. As I told you, my Juanita was wild. She wanted more than to be a wife and mother. She wanted to