Free Naked Edge by Pamela Clare Page A

consensual and then send them on their way."
    "I can't imagine why anyone would want to risk getting caught like that."
    "Crazy, huh?" Gabe had to fight back a grin, her naivete amusing.
    They were about halfway up by now, the plains stretching to the east, the basalt dike that formed the backbone of the butte rising to the north, Boulder Valley stretching out behind them and, beyond it, the high peaks. A red-tailed hawk circled slowly above them, its rust-colored tail feathers catching the sunlight.
    "So if I were a new volunteer for Mountain Parks and you had to explain to me the significance of Mesa Butte, what would you say?"
    And now came the test.
    "I would first explain its geological significance as evidence of earlier volcanic activity and talk about how erosion from the melting of the last ice age had washed the earth away, exposing the rock. Then I would talk about the importance of riparian habitat, which offers an especially rich environment for plants and animals. Because two rivers converge here, there's almost always water, even during the driest times. I would explain how essential the butte is for raptors, which use the crags for perching and nesting sites. I would point out that the butte provided food, water, and shelter for the Arapaho, Cheyenne, and other Plains nations, who hunted bison and antelope nearby, camped by the rivers, and used the butte for ceremonies."
    Kat listened as Gabe went on, impressed by his understanding of the land. It wasn't the same as hers, exactly, but it wasn't terribly different, either. He saw how it all fit together--the land, the plants, the animals, the people--but his knowledge was scientific instead of spiritual. At the same time, she could tell it truly mattered to him. The land, the plants, the four-legged creatures, the winged ones--they mattered to him.
    "You really love it out here, don't you?" she asked when he had finished.
    "Why else would I choose to be a ranger when I could sit at a nice desk all day playing with paper clips?" He grinned, making her pulse trip.
    She was surprised how comfortable she felt being out here with him. There was an easiness to it, something she certainly hadn't expected after their last meeting in the restaurant. He seemed to belong here as much as she did.
    The wind knows him.
    The truth of that realization startled her. Then she thought of Grandpa Red Crow, who, for some reason, already trusted Gabe. He'd always had a sixth sense about people.
    "So how'd I do? Better than the average Bilagaanaa?"
    Kat couldn't help but smile at his use of that Navajo word. "How did you know I'm Navajo? Is it the earrings? And how do you know so much about Indian culture, like the Sun Dance and the inipi?"
    He chuckled. "All rangers are required to undergo training in local history and indigenous culture. As for how I knew you were Navajo, you told me in the restaurant. You said your family lived in a hogaan, remember?"
    "Yes, I remember." So he was a man who listened. She liked that.
    "What clan are you?"
    "I was born to the Ashiihi --Salt Clan." If she'd had a Navajo father, she'd have been able to tell him what clan she'd been born for--one was born to the clan of one's mother and for the clan of one's father--but she didn't even know who her father was. She wondered if Gabe would be able to tell that she was fatherless. If so, he said nothing, so she changed the subject. "You did very well--much better than the average Bilagaanaa. But let me explain what we know."
    She told how any place where two rivers came together was believed to be sacred by itself and how two rivers at the base of a high place like Mesa Butte marked it as special, a place set aside by Creator for people to pray. She told him how the Old Ones would have found everything they needed right here--wood from the river valley below, stones that retained heat well, deer, bison, and antelope for food and clothing, and a clear view in all four directions should enemies