Free Promise Canyon by Robyn Carr Page A

meals at a roughly hewn oak dining table that could easily seat twelve; the evening meal came after homework was cleared away from that same table. Ursula was a schoolteacher. She paid very close attention to the kids’ studies.
    Clay and Ursula didn’t have any other siblings, but they grew up in a family compound with their aunts, uncles and cousins. Even though there were only the four of them in the immediate Tahoma family, their dinner table, like Ursula’s, had been large enough to seat many more. Whether there were big family dinners at Clay’s house or at one of his extended family’s homes, they were always surrounded by good food, good smellsand people—babies, children, teens and young adults as well as parents and grandparents.
    Yet for all the people around the Toopeek house, there was hardly ever mess or chaos, which also resembled the old Tahoma home. The Cherokee and the Navajo had similar expectations of their offspring, and Tom’s parents were also enforcers on Tom and Ursula’s kids. Not that the kids were unreasonably subdued—there was lots of time for running wild in the forests and valleys; there was plentiful laughter and normal arguing.
    And when their uncle Clay arrived, there were fits of excitement.
    He couldn’t explain why they received him with such enthusiasm. Besides putting them on a horse when they visited him or when they all visited their Tahoma grandparents, he didn’t feel that he did enough to charm them. But they ran to him when he arrived. He could still lift his ten-year-old niece, Shannon. He hated to even think about the day, which was fast approaching, that he wouldn’t be allowed to do that. She was the baby and Ursula said the last one. Clay had fully enjoyed Ursula and Tom’s children.
    A surprise awaited Clay at this visit—his brother-in-law had cut off his long, traditional ponytail, which had been pretty much identical to Clay’s. Tom had short black hair now, cut in a buzz.
    “You look like a marine,” Clay said, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a brief man-hug.
    “You’ll get used to it,” Tom said. “My wife isn’t happy about it yet, but she’ll adjust.”
    And then Ursula was there, reaching to pull him into a hug of her own. “I’m still so happy you’re here, I can’t quite believe it’s true.” She kissed his cheek. “I hope thisworks out for you the way you want it to, Clay. Because having you near is perfect for my family. I want to make it perfect for you, too.”
    “You do that every time you welcome me to dinner.”
    He was dragged outside by the younger boys to assess the progress they’d made on a tree fort, then he was pulled into Shannon’s room to look at all the As she’d gotten on her papers. Only his oldest niece, Tanya, was missing from the family. She was on a full-ride scholarship at Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, near her maternal grandparents and the rest of the extended Tahoma family, while eighteen-year-old Johnny attended a local college and lived at home. Tanya went to school year-round—a difficult three-year premed program that didn’t appear to give her much difficulty. Tanya was beautiful and brilliant and, if you could trust a twenty-year-old’s ambitions, wanted a future in medical research. “She’s in love with the microscope,” Tom said. “Which suits me fine—exactly where I want her passion to be focused.”
    “Tom has a very good memory about when we met and fell in love,” Ursula said with a laugh. “It scares him to death.”
    There were many hands to serve the table—Ursula had help from her mother-in-law and the children. Lincoln Toopeek reminded Clay of his father—quiet and stoic, but that stern silence shouldn’t be taken for granted. Clay knew that Lincoln could make himself heard, make his presence known, just like the elder Tahoma. And then he noticed that when Lincoln Toopeek sat beside his youngest granddaughter, Shannon, and helped her serve her plate, all