The Doctor's Medicine Woman by Donna Clayton

safe from the sticky remnants of maple syrup and Indian pudding.
    “I’m very interested in everything you have to say.”
    She smiled, and his temperature seemed to heat up a few degrees.
    “I know you are,” she said.
    The moment grew very still.
    Suddenly she leaned her weight back on her heels. “You know…”
    Her words faded and Travis sensed a tentativeness in her. Then her chin tipped up a fraction.
    “Maybe you’d like to have some instruction, too.” One corner of her mouth inched back in a cute half grin. “I know all this elementary information about food is probably boring for you, but—”
    “No,” he disagreed emphatically. “I’m not the least bit bored. And I would like to know more. If you’re willing to teach me.”
    “Of course.” Her eyes shied away from his and she busied herself with placing the leftover food on the tray. “We can meet for an hour or so after the boys go to bed. Or, once they start school, we can talk before they get home.”
    Softly he said, “We’ll work it out.”
    “Yes,” she told him, “we’ll work it out.”
    The tautness of the air seemed to break with a silent sigh, and Travis got the distinct, almost uneasy,feeling that the two of them had just altered the course of things in some way. It was as if they had just surrendered to…something. Unknown. Intangible. Elusive. Whatever it was, he couldn’t quite get a grasp on it. All he did know was that Diana was volunteering to instruct him in his Kolheek heritage. And he had a desperate hunger for the knowledge she’d offered to impart.
    He reached out and took the dishes from her hands. “Let’s go help the boys unwrap gifts,” he said as he placed the plates and bowls on the tray.
    “Oh.” Her brow furrowed with consternation. “But I hadn’t meant to intrude on your whole day. This is a day for family. I only wanted to show the boys some of the foods—”
    “Will you stop,” he gently admonished. “You’re part of this family holiday.” Then he smiled. “Besides, there may be a present or two under that tree with your name on it.”
    “Really?”
    Utter surprise coated the single word. Then a childlike glee lit her gaze, and Travis chuckled. It was clear she hadn’t expected to receive anything this morning. That made the time and effort he’d taken to choose a few gifts for her all the more meaningful.
    A sudden thought crossed his mind.
    “Do you normally celebrate Christmas?” he asked. He certainly didn’t want to insult her beliefs.
    Her smile was soft. “Christmas is a wonderful celebration that Kolheek children have come to love just as fervently as children all over the world. You see, The People are masters at weaving the old and thenew into the blanket that is the Kolheek. We change. Adapt. Our people examine, and sometimes accept, new beliefs. It’s what makes us strong. It’s what has allowed us to survive.”
    Thinking of his ancestors, of their history and ideology as a good, strong blanket was a wonderful concept. The notion that the blanket that was The People was still being woven, still being created, somehow gave him the first real inkling that he hadn’t missed out completely. That he could still become a part of what it meant to be Native American.
    The monumental revelation was enough to have his breath snagging sharply in his throat.
    “Thank you.”
    He was as surprised by his whispered expression of gratitude as she was.
    “For what?” she asked, her bewilderment evident.
    But before he could answer, the boys called out to them. Their excitement could wait no longer.
    An hour and a half later, Travis was sitting alone in the living room, bits of colored paper and curling ribbon here and there on the floor. He’d never experienced a Christmas quite like this one. Sure, he’d spent Christmases with Sloan and his girls. But he’d always arrived later in the day, when the gift-unwrapping frenzy was long over.
    The boys had made this day so special.