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a bridesmaid or employed a Moosefoot to put on their last roof. I’m not a token anything here. There are people at school who are forever trying to make me represent an entire race. Like I’m not entitled to individual habits and opinions and traits. You know, a professor—a grown man who should have known better—once said to me, “I didn’t realize Indians were left-handed.“
    Jane laughed. “Boy, do I ever know what you mean! My dad traveled all over the world and took us along. I grew up being told that I was representing my whole country and that if I chewed my braids or didn’t clean my fingernails, people would think all American girls were slobs. To my parents’ credit, they didn’t claim this was fair or right, just a fact of life.“
    “Lots of facts of life aren’t fair, I guess.“
    “Am I keeping you from your work? I’m sorry. Tell you what. I need an excuse to sit down and get my breath before I trudge off again. Use the time you would have taken doing the girls’ room and have a cup of coffee with me, would you? Doing their room would be a waste of time anyhow. They’ll trash it again the minute they come back.“
    “Sounds good to me,“ Linda said.
    When they were settled, Jane on the sofa, Linda back on the floor with Willard, Jane said, “Do you know there’s some kind of demonstration going on at the main lodge?“
    “Oh, right. Is that today? You mean HawkHunter, don’t you?“
    “What’s it all about?“
    “Hmmm, I’m sorry to say I haven’t followed it all closely enough to talk with any kind of authority. I’ve been working here since I started my break. Something about the Flattop.“
    “The Flattop?“
    “The mountain—well, hill really—behind the resort. It’s called that. Some of the elders seem to believe it was once a burial ground, I guess. I’d never heard that before, but I don’t always pay as much attention to the old stories as I should. Anyway, HawkHunter’s a lawyer, you know, and it’s part of his contract with the tribe to represent their interests. They’re afraid that somebody’s going to build a ski lift and disturb the graves up there. When word got out that Bill Smith was at the point of selling the resort, I guess somebody got concerned that the new buyers would do something like that.“
    “But Mr. Smith wouldn’t have?“
    “Oh, no. Bill has always been good to the tribe and the tribe’s been good to him. He’s an old-timer, you know.“
    “I haven’t met him. Is he elderly?“
    “He is, but I didn’t mean that. I meant in the sense of being an old-fashioned Colorado type. Live and let live. Mind your own business. Don’t antagonize your neighbors. Help without asking for thanks. Don’t try to reform anybody. It’s a very distinct mind-set. Anyway, he has it. And if he’d wanted to build a ski lift and the tribe said there were graves there, he’d have just respected it without question. But nobody knows about some unknown buyer. The tribe’s unhappy that Bill’s retiring, but nobody would butt into his business.“
    “But HawkHunter is doing exactly that, isn’t he? Butting in, I mean.“
    “Well, yes, I guess he is.“
    “Look, Linda, I’ll be honest with you. The reason I’m interested is because my friend’s husband is one of the investors who are considering buying the resort.“
    “Oh, I knew that already. But thanks for being up front about it.“
    “So what does HawkHunter want? What’s the point of the demonstration down at the lodge? To scare the investors off?“
    “Oh, no, I don’t think so. All he wants is something attached to the deed—that’s not the term, but you know what I mean—a rider or something that makes any subsequent buyers have to respect the holy significance of the land and not put up buildings or roads there.“
    “Is that legal?“ Jane asked, not mentioning that this simple-sounding request wasn’t what Tenny had said HawkHunter wanted.
    “Well, I guess it must be.