Ruth Horner was sitting on the ground, next to a large, heavy set Native American dressed in a white cotton shirt and jeans. He held a blue-painted rattle in one hand and a brown-and-white eagle feather in the other. Ruth wore a pale pink tank top, a pair of jeans and sensible hiking boots. Both stared up at Diana and Wes accusingly, their privacy obviously disturbed. Diana felt heat rush to her face. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered, opening her hands. “We didn’t mean to intrude upon your ceremony.” She looked to Ruth, who had piercing green eyes. The woman’s gray-and-brown hair had been fashioned into short braids, and without a doubt, she looked different and better than the picture of her in the lab coat that Wes had shown Diana days ago. Happier, perhaps. Wes placed his hand on his hips. “Psi-Lab sent us after you.” Ruth’s face crumpled. “I didn’t think you’d find me,” she said in a low voice. She glanced at her companion. “I thought the red gourd would throw you off my trail.”
