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hat. Heat washed over her as if he’d touched her. Feeling better, Lee smiled and found her hope reassured. He did that all the time, sometimes with his voice over the cell phone, and other times with his eyes via Skype.  The long distance between them had made maintaining their love a challenge, but when they were together, like this, it was all worth it—every mile, every minute, and every bit of money to keep and nurture what they had. She huddled deeper into her coat. Still, this hiking thing was not how she’d intended to spend her Valentine’s Day.
    “This had better be good,” she mumbled.
    He nodded and took her hand into his big one. His much larger hand engulfed hers.
    “How much farther?”
    “Just down this side path.” He inclined his head to the west.
    Through the sparse grouping of trees, she saw the small, single-story structure. The door faced east, and puffs of fluffy smoke huffed out of a black circular chimney.  Tank stepped in front of her, and led her down the narrow pathway that wound through the desert’s untamed brush. Lee had taught in New Mexico for the last fifteen years, so she recognized the Navajo Hogan when she saw it. A five-sided structure sat alone on the flattest section of the land. Packed adobe covered some of the walls, but harsh New Mexico winters had worn some of it down. The gusty winds whipped it down over the decades.
    Lee had no idea what to expect and her feet failed to move. Tank must have felt her hand fall away, and he turned to her, concern on his face.
    “What’s going on?” She couldn’t shake her rearing. There were places black folks just didn’t go. Besides, sacred places like Hogans and cemeteries were not normal destinations for Valentine’s Day.
    Tank sighed. “It’s Valentine’s Day…”
    “Not a sacred Navajo day…” she interjected.
    He grinned at that. “No, no it isn’t.”
    “So…”
    “So follow me and I’ll give you a surprise.”
    With that said, Tank continued down the path to the Hogan.
    Lee stood stuck to the spot, her hands on her hips. He didn’t give her any hint about what he had planned.
    Tank reached the door. “You could stay out here, but the temperature will continue to drop. The coyotes are usually very hungry in the winter—their food sources are slim. They may enjoy frozen chocolate Lee.”
    “Oh hell no,” Lee said. Her feet didn’t like the idea of being food for coyotes either, and she hurried down the path and into Tank’s waiting embrace.
     

C HAPTER T WO
     
    “Watch your step,” Tank said as Lee bent down to come into the Hogan.
    “I hoped you would,” she retorted.
    He rewarded her sassy mouth with a slap on her ass.
    The moment he stepped through the door, Tank felt at peace. Something about his grandmother’s first Hogan steadied him, anchoring him, in a way that kept him from being swept away by the world’s stormy madness. He held Lee in his arms and she trembled. Whether from the frigid weather or from her misgivings, he didn’t know.
    “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said.
    “Tank…” she said, her voice soft with awe. She fingered her favorite gold chain with the butterfly charm and with wide eyes shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
    “Surprise.”
    Thick ivory candles flickered every few feet along the dirt floor. The pellet stove pumped out heat, and the pellets burned a reddish-orange through the stove’s grate. Shadows danced merrily on the walls, and music with a heavy flute lead played from his iPod and into the speakers he’d connected it to. Amongst the music, Navajo women sang of love and culture, of family and connectedness. Of course, Lee wouldn’t understand the words, but she knew and believed in those things too.
    “Oh my goodness, Tank,” she said, walking around the Hogan clockwise and thus honoring the tradition. “You did all of this? When? How? I mean, you have a bed in here! Flowers? You didn’t…”
    His heart warmed as he watched her inhale the scent