“If our uncles approve,” Kitty admitted.
“Well, here’s a tip from an old bachelor: Don’t bicker about things that happened long ago, and don’t hold grudges. We’re all Americans today, no matter how our skins are colored.”
“I’ll be good,” Kitty promised. “And that reminds me. Will you all be good and come to dinner with Mother and me tonight?”
When they pulled up to the motel at Window Rock, an Indian wearing a Hopi hairband rose from where he had been squatting near the entrance and handed Ralph a message. The driller read it and turned to the others with a frown.
“It’s from Chief Ponytooth,” he explained. “He says the Hopis and Navajos are having a session at the Council Hall tonight and he wants me there as a representative of the Utes. Looks as if I’ll have to eat and run.”
“Dinner will be early,” Kitty promised.
“Wait here till I make a quick visit to the Indian Agency,” Hall said. “Then we’ll walk over to your house. I’m tired of riding.”
Sandy had expected that Kitty might live in an eight-sided wooden hogan such as he had seen in other parts of the reservation. Instead, she took them to a neat white cottage surrounded by palo-verde trees.
Mrs. Gonzales was an attractive widow who might have passed for Kitty’s older sister, except that she was somewhat heavier and her skin was much darker. She greeted the two older men as if they were members of the family and made Sandy feel at home immediately. First, she showed them around the tiny forge and workshop where she apparently earned a good living by making lovely silver buckles and heavy medallions called conchas which she sold to tourists. Then, after learning that Ralph had to leave soon, she rushed dinner to the table. It featured several highly spiced Mexican and Indian dishes and was delicious.
After coffee, they stood under the stars for a few minutes on a patio looking toward the great black hole in Window Rock.