Coyote's Flute

By JoEllen Conger

Recently widowed, Barbara Livingston flies to New Mexico to stay with longtime friends for the summer. However, instead of her friends, a sexy, Spanish cowboy meets her at the airport. While awaiting her friends to retrieve her, he takes her home to his working ranch. Trini Montoya tells her about Kokopelli, the shape-shifter in local Navajo legends and folklore. When she hears Coyote's mystical flute music drifting on the wind, she understands there is to be a 'Promise of Change' in her life. Trini has no idea just how much he wants her until she and his favorite horse suddenly disappear into the devastating heat wave on the New Mexican desert. The search begins to find her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9781613091166

Book preview

Disclaimer:

Never before have I ever thought to Google my heroine’s name...until after I had finished writing The End to this tenth book. It was purely spontaneous. And what to my amazed eyes did I find!...that a Barbara D. Livingston is a real live, living and breathing person, who is also a multi-published author and photographer of horses, as I claimed for my heroine in this story . I was stunned .

However, I wish to state that this book was not written with her in mind, nor have I ever met or spoken with her. I actually considered changing my heroine’s name...but then I thought: What does it really matter? The original and my Barbara may never meet, but just to be on the safe side, let me say that my Barbara Livingston is a character straight out of my own imagination, and does not resemble anyone by the same name, living or deceased.

So, now I must confess the rest. The Weavers Of Chimayo was indeed inspired by real live people who I met when I summered in New Mexico. I acknowledge Lisa & Irvin Trujillo, who also can be Googled. They truly are the weavers in Chimayo, and still have a showroom there: Rio Grande Weaving. Santa Fe indeed holds a competitive fair the last weekend of July. The Spanish Market is well worth visiting for its hand-crafted items.

And while I’m confessing, let me apologize to my summer hosts, Lisa’s parents, Jerry & Anne Rockwell for borrowing their personalities for my characters Gerod and Annah Goldstein, without their permission. Regrettably, there never was a Trini Montoya and family, or their working ranch. Nor a copter pilot named David, or a professional Search and Rescue team. The animals: Shep, Molly, and Jasper came straight from my fertile imagination. However, Ringo’s name has been changed to protect his notoriety.

JoEllen Conger

One

Anxiety chewed at her confidence as Barbara Livingston searched the crowded Albuquerque airline terminal, anticipating to locate her longtime friends at any moment. Other deplaning passengers pushed and bumped against her. She stepped aside, feeling her irritation rising.

Her friends should have been with the crush of people waiting at the crowded debarkation gate. But they weren’t. In fact, no one had stepped forward to meet her. A quaver of anxiety rippled through her stomach. She suddenly felt like a little girl, lost in a frighteningly strange and unfriendly city. Her heart fluttered, pounding against her ribcage. Barbara pressed a splayed hand across her heart. She had a hard time catching her breath.

She pivoted in her search, eyes darting to detect someone she recognized. Anyone. She could feel her throat constricting, her heart pumping wildly. It wasn’t just the unexpected heat wave that made perspiration trickle down her temples. With instant clarity filling her mind, she realized her anxiety medication was right there in her suitcase, just for such a possible attack of nerves, but she didn’t want to rip open her bag in front of God and everybody, just to get to it.

It was her first excursion away from home—alone, since her late husband’s passing. She was used to his reassurances when she fretted about unexpected changes. I can do this, she assured herself. After all, I am a mature adult. She drew in a deep breath.

She searched again for her missing friends. Then gulped. Her mouth felt as dry as New Mexico’s desert outside.

Did I remember to send them the correct flight information? Do I have the right day? Sheesh, Barbara, come on! You managed to get yourself to the ticket counter. They took your ticket in San Jose, didn’t they? Today is the right day.

Could Annah and Gerod have forgotten? She drew in a quick breath to calm her frantic thoughts. Don’t panic! There could be good, logical reasons why they’ve been detained. Possibly they’ve gotten held up in traffic. Or...had trouble finding a parking place. So keep your cool, Barbara! Just take another deep breath.

Her carry-on seemed to grow heavier, the leather strap cutting into her palm. Her camera bag jabbed her back at every step. You’re hyperventilating, Barbara. Get control!—Take another deep breath and hold it.

She rearranged her hold on her luggage as she labored to control her racing heart. The shoulder strap holding her camera equipment: a small Digital camera, and a 35.mm Olympus with a flash attachment and all her lenses, macro, wide angle and telephoto, cut deeply into her shoulder. In the same hand she juggled her weighty, suitcase-sized hard-pack video case. She had never given up the full-sized camcorder for the smaller 8mm. When she had tried one, she hadn’t cared for the dizzying-film produced by her wrist action.

Although heavier, the full-sized camera at least sat solidly on her right shoulder and steadied the videography. Resigned, she settled her bags by her feet. Then as she searched the area again, she scrubbed her sweating palms against the knobby texture of her raw silk skirt. She was soaked in sweat; her matching jersey clung to her.

With a shuddering in-breath, she slowly placed her heavy camera bag on top of her laptop and fastened them to the handlebars on top of her wheeled suitcase. She wound the camera cases’ straps tightly around the pull handle. Now all she had to worry about were her carry-on bag and camcorder case. She’d heard the sad story about her friends losing their photo equipment when they had been traveling, so she’d become extra vigilant of her surroundings. Someone had nabbed their equipment when they had been distracted and looked away for only a moment. It won’t happen to me, she declared emphatically, hoping her declaration would calm her inner trembling.

Even her brother-in-law had lost his briefcase in Japan. He’d set it down between his feet to talk to an airline agent and some deft robber had swiped it. She wanted to make sure that didn’t happen to her, here. Her livelihood depended upon her cameras and her laptop. Even backed-up before coming on the trip, she couldn’t afford to lose all her research material...reels of video-film and proposed plots she hadn’t written yet, and photographs of every place she and Jed had ever traveled. Her heart jerked at the very thought of losing them.

She studied everyone in the terminal. Everyone seemed to be dashing for their intended destination with no one showing any particular interest in her expensive equipment...or her, for that matter.

Her misgivings tumbled crazily in her mind as she scanned the airport’s vast expanse one more time. Where could they be? Surely I’ll recognize them. They couldn’t have changed that much since I last saw them...at Jed’s funeral. She scowled, feeling very alone without Jed holding her arm. He had no right to go on without me. He said we’d be together forever. How am I supposed to manage without him?

She picked up her camcorder case again. Towing her wheeled ‘airporter’ suitcase behind her, she circled the open area, analyzing each person’s face. She had known Gerod and Annah for years...back when her husband was still alive, and the four of them had traveled together all over Mexico. They had become fast friends back in those days.

Her friends had offered her a change of scene for the summer. She realized it was their way of helping her change her mindset. A way to forget she no longer had her life-partner. Her old gingerbread house on the California coast had seemed larger than ever without Jed’s snoring on the other side of the bed, or him tossing down his boots in the middle of the living room floor. The empty house echoed her every step. Not even Jed’s ghost came to haunt her anymore. It was getting harder and harder to remember how his body had felt, all silky and warm spooned up behind her in their massive California king-sized bed. Or the smell of his skin as he slept.

In fact, the whole house stayed neat as a pin without his ever-changing projects. She’d never expected to miss his jumbled, hodge-podge ways. Life had become dreary, unexciting, totally uninteresting, and downright boring without him. She had been so lucky to have married the ‘Bad Boy’ and all the excitement he had brought into her life. The only thing she could recall now was just how hot his hands had felt when he caressed her into arousal. She threw back her head recalling his hot kisses on her neck. She longed to feel his reassuring arms wrapped around her, protecting her from the unknowns of the world.

And then the doubt came stealing back into her mind. Maybe Gerod and Annah have been delayed by a traffic accident.

Butterflies trembled in the pit of her stomach. It was the first time she’d traveled anywhere alone...since Jed had passed away. Jed had always been there to guide her, to see to her comfort, to handle the tickets, to exchange the money in foreign countries, and to arrange for their transportation and lodging. He’d always grinned down at her with that little boy smile, being patient about her anxieties. When she was with him, he had always seen that her only responsibility had been to concentrate on her world-famous photography, and her research for her next Romance novel. He had joyfully looked after everything else.

This time she’d had to deal with everything herself. Not that I’m not capable of doing it, she argued with herself. She couldn’t believe she’d been that dependent on someone else. After all, he had depended upon her too...to show delight in all his silly pranks; and to look totally excited and surprised at all his many weird gifts. It was just that their time-old rituals and division of tasks had been disrupted. She missed that.

Barbara sighed raggedly. She had been standing so long her feet ached. Dragging her suitcase toward a chain of chairs, she thumped down in one of its stiff, uncomfortable plastic shapes. She sat there and fretted.

I’ll wait another ten minutes and just see if they arrive. You haven’t really been abandoned, Barbara; you’re nothing more than a pampered princess. The thought stung. She wrung her hands, massaging circulation back into her icy cold fingers.

Barbara vigilantly surveyed the milling crowd again. Should I call them? Did I remember to bring their cell phone number? I’d have to hunt up a pay phone. Should I go out front? Or maybe to the luggage carousels? After all, Gerod and Annah won’t know I could pack every stitch of clothing I own into this one tiny suitcase. Well, almost everything.

Then she saw him...a tall, sexy, swarthy-complexioned man standing aside from the mainstream, studying her with his intense jet black eyes. His eyes sparkled as their glance met, and held for a moment, then his mouth curled up in a wicked little smile. He studied a photo he held in his hands, and then acknowledged her with a canted nod. Her heart jerked.

He’s staring at me! She deliberately looked away. Gad! Why couldn’t he be looking for me! Then I could stop fretting. What a hottie! I feel like I already know him. He could easily be any one of the heroes I write about. Those magnificent eyes were enough to make her wish he had come looking for her. She sighed, as her body flushed from head to toe. Steady, girl. He’s just a cowpoke.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw he was indeed walking straight toward her, his western-toed boots scuffing the threadbare carpet. Barbara caught her breath. Before he reached her, she had plenty of time to assess his lithe body, his lean-cut Levis, his tan, fringed buckskin shirt, and his curly jet black hair hanging down to his waist. He was beautiful. She drew in a measured breath. Here was an uncaptured Kodak moment just waiting for her camera. He was every bit as rugged-looking as some of her cover models.

When he stopped a respectful distance in front of her, he again studied the photocopied photograph he carried. He looked up from the photo. Barbara Livingston, I presume?

When he grinned, his dimples showed. She couldn’t help herself, she laughed out loud. What a relief! He really was looking for her. She was no longer here all alone in a strange city. My hero! surged into her mind.

Barbara stood to meet him. She craned her neck up to peer up at his piercing obsidian eyes. She feasted her gaze on his inquisitive expression, and his hair held in place by a brightly beaded headband. His hair looked so soft she had to force herself not to reach out to caress it.

Her chin didn’t even reach as high as his shirt pocket. Damn, she exclaimed. I never knew they grew Indians so tall.

The man’s eyes crinkled with mirth. And the white squaw is heavy of hip, he retorted.

With good humor, Barbara broke out into a jolly chuckle. Oh, me and my unruly mouth are in trouble again. I do beg your pardon.

And besides... he interrupted, I’m a Spaniard.

You could have fooled me! It serves me right for allowing my mouth to run off without first engaging my brain. She already felt relieved that someone had come to meet her. Even a stranger. She offered her sun-tanned, weather-beaten handshake. Yes, I’m Barbara Livingston. And yes, I am heavy in the hips. You’re right about that. Without Jed’s appraisal the last few years, it hadn’t seemed to matter how she looked.

He grinned at her. I am called Trini Montoya. He reached out and accepted her proffered handshake with his work-roughened hand. His powerful grip was as warm as his smile. He held her fingers moments longer than necessary before he relinquished them. I never could have missed those blue eyes, he added. That’s how Annah said I’d identify you.

Barbara blushed. She couldn’t have said just why his being here for her was reassuring. She didn’t know him from Adam. She couldn’t even remember the last time a man had made her feel so light-hearted. He made her feel self-conscious. Barbara looked about, wanting to change the subject. Where are Gerod and Annah?

Leanne went into premature labor...so they asked me to look after you. He shrugged to indicate no one could predict the ways of such feminine activities.

Leanne, that’s the youngest daughter. Right? Barbara questioned. The man nodded. Well, I thank you for coming. I’m glad now I sent them a recent photograph of myself.

Well, even without it, I’d have figured it out. There are just not that many people waiting around, looking anxious. He chortled, slipped the photo into his shirt pocket and reached for her carry-on suitcase. Do you have any more luggage?

No. This is it. He also commandeered the hard-pack camcorder case. Barbara nodded toward the wheeled suitcase. Be careful of the photo equipment and laptop. Other than that, I travel light.

Got it. He grinned at her. I may be just a rough-shod cowboy, but I’m trainable. He winked. I don’t usually break things. Without taking her elbow to guide her, he raced through the terminal at a fast clip; rolling her wheeled bag behind him, dodging people coming and going.

She charged after Trini through the air-conditioned airport as he headed for the exit to the parking lot. When they exited through the automatic doors, the heat of the afternoon hit her like a solid wave. Oof, oh my goodness that’s oppressive.

Trini glanced back over his shoulder to scan her discomfort. The truck is air-conditioned, he announced.