Merkaba, a supernatural suspense series (Walk the Right Road, Book 3) Read Free

way that had her relaxing a bit.
    Maybe all this fuss was just her anxiety over what she’d decided to take on. After all, undoing the past and healing all those deeply buried hurts was a monumental task. So, instead of continuing with what Tina—a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, slender beauty—had called her prickly attitude that sent guys racing for the hills, she relaxed and met the curious, charming man’s gaze.
    “This is amazing. So what is this thing you’ve built here?” He uncrossed one arm and swept it in a gesture to her circle of rocks.
    “This is a medicine wheel.” Alecia started to say more and then clamped her jaw shut. Most people weren’t really interested, and quite often she babbled on, wanting—no, needing—to share all the information, the history, and why it was so important. But after the last guy had walked away, uninterested—which really did hurt, no matter what anyone said—she found herself saying as little as possible.
    “This is so cool. What does it do? I mean, what is it built for?”
    She hadn’t expected this, and she wondered if, in fact, she had blinked or done something odd with her expression, as he stepped closer to her, and his face brightened.
    “Really, I’m fascinated. I really want to know.”
    Alecia touched the medicine bag she had tied to her belt loop. It was the one filled with her four crystals, each to balance her, and she glanced away, wrestling with the impulse to blurt out all the knowledge she loved to share with those who were truly interested.
    She squinted as the bright sun rose a little higher just behind his head, setting off an unusual glow of light around him. He seemed so ... nice.
    “This is a Native American medicine wheel. I built this in the tradition of my mother’s people, the Ojibwe, and I built it for a purpose, for truth, honesty, and healing.” She felt her face heat for a second. Vulnerability lurked just below the surface, and she had to struggle to shut it down. He watched her the whole time, as if he could read her every thought.
    “This must be something that means a lot to you. I mean, I’ve heard of these circles and the power behind them. I believe in them. But why would you build it here?”
    She looked up at him with clear eyes. “This is where my mother was sent when she was taken from her family, and this land was taken from the people,” she answered.

Chapter 5
    He was still there. Still listening to her. In fact, instead of slipping away, he had stepped closer and studied the wide open meadow of the parkland, as if seeing something he hadn’t before, and then squinted as he gazed back at her, giving her all his attention.
    “Your mother was taken from her family, and this is the people’s land? Are you a little off, lady? This is parkland owned by the state of Washington.” He was walking around the circle in a way that had her heart thudding and drawn to him, mesmerized, but not in a fearful way. He was so charming. He wasn’t handsome, she realized—he was breathtaking. Something deep inside of him drew her, and she felt stuck, as if an elastic held her and she had to be near him.
    “My mother is Ojibwe and Cree, and when the government and church people came and separated families, taking all native children and tossing them in residential schools where they were brutalized, their mandate was to send the children as far away from their homes as possible, to obliterate all contact. My mother was one of them, and she was only five years old, ripped away from her own mother and stuck in a sterile jail. Her hair was cut off, and she was forced to dress in their clothes, the clothes of the white people, and to speak only English, not her native tongue. If she slipped up accidently, she was beaten. This was in the fifties, with residential schools and the churches still inflicting abuse.
    “Mom’s family, her tribe, was in Wisconsin. The Hoh were one of the tribes in this area, but the government had stolen their