Night of the White Buffalo: A Wind River Mystery by Margaret Coel Page A

the great herds had been reduced to a few straggly animals, one thousand or less. It seemed that the buffalo had been swallowed by the Earth, and that the Indian people would die.
    But throughout the generations, White Buffalo Woman kept
her promise, and from time to time, a white buffalo
calf was born. Scientists look to genetics and try to
determine how many white calves might have ever been born,
but the ancestors did not keep track of such numbers.
They knew only that the white calf came to remind the people that the Creator was with them.
    White Buffalo Woman came to the Lakota, but the message she brought was meant for all people. All the other tribes, and all the non-Indian people. For that reason, the beautiful white woman with a bald head, a yellow-and-red scarf and tears in her eyes, had driven a thousand miles to see the sacred calf and pray for healing. For that reason, thousands of people had come, all of them praying for healing in their lives. They believed that the small white calf was a sign of the Creator among his creatures.
    Father John closed the site and glanced through the list of other sites, finally settling on one called Buffalo Today. “Walking Lightly on the Earth”
ran across the top of several pages of text. He scanned the paragraphs. Buffalo were at home on the plains, with the lack of moisture and sparse vegetation. Once accustomed to roaming vast areas, they grazed as they moved without destroying the fragile environment. Confined to smaller areas today, buffalo feed sometimes had to be supplemented with hay. Still, environmentalists pointed out that buffalo lived in greater harmony with their surroundings than cattle. The low-fat, low-cholesterol buffalo meat was considered a healthful delicacy.
    Father John closed the site and sipped at the cool, bitter coffee. He swiveled toward the window and stared out at the streetlight dancing in the wind over the wild grass. A small white animal, a sacred sign that would bring thousands of people to the rez. He wondered if Sheila Carey had any idea of what was coming. Chief Banner might mobilize the entire police force, but he wondered if it would be enough.

12
    ANNIE WAS AT her desk when Vicky let herself into the office. Printer humming, smells of fresh coffee wafting through the air, and Roger Hurst, the lawyer she and Adam had hired to handle what Adam called the “little cases,” standing at Annie’s shoulder, the invisible remnants of a conversation dangling between them. “Good morning.” Vicky headed toward the small table that held the coffeepot and stack of mugs.
    She adjusted her bag over her shoulder and, gripping her briefcase with one hand, managed to pour a cup of coffee. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Annie scoot her chair backward and jump to her feet. The secretary’s footsteps clacked behind Vicky as she went into her private office. She sat down behind her desk and let the briefcase and bag fall at her feet. Tiredness dragged at her. She had tossed and turned all night, a strange dream running through her head. She was walking across the plains, walking, walking toward some point on the horizon she could never reach.
    â€œYou okay?” Vicky realized Annie had been watching her.
    â€œI’m fine. Got off to a late start this morning.”
    â€œI thought maybe you’d heard the news.” When Vicky didn’t say anything, Annie hurried on: “There’s a rumor on the moccasin telegraph—nobody’s confirmed it—that a white buffalo calf’s been born.”
    Vicky could feel her breath expanding in her throat. She forced herself to exhale. “Where?” she managed. She knew the answer, as if it were written in the air.
    â€œOn the rez. Like I said, it’s only a rumor, but folks are really excited. Tribal cops are getting ready for a lot of visitors. I mean, thousands. There will be people everywhere. It will be a mess.” She stopped.