Louis was certain Mrs. McDonald would insist on going back to look for the ring, no matter how windy it was, but she sent a waitress to the Yazzie trailer to tell him they would not go out to look for the ring until the weather cleared.

He opened the note she sent to him.

"I told Angus about losing the ring, but he doesn't want us to go back until the weather clears."

Louis read the letter carefully a second time.  He didn't know what there was about it that disturbed him, but it made him uneasy.  He was anxious to have his dad read it.

But a short time after Frank returned to the trailer after his day at work, Rita came home unexpectedly.  Her hair was tangled, her jeans were dirty and wrinkled, and her eyes were bloodshot.

"I suppose you're wondering why I came back tonight?" she asked.

"Come to think about it, you haven't been around much lately."

"If you want the truth, Frank, it's that religion you and the kids are into that I can't stand." Anger glittered in her dark eyes.  "I'm tired of it.  I'm tired of having you throw it up to me all the time.  It may be all right for the white man, but it's not our religion.  We're First Nation."

"I know that, but my grandparents and my parents followed the religion of our people and what did it do for them?  They still stole and drank and were miserable, even though they kept the rituals and had the ceremonies that were supposed to help them."

Rita glared at him.  "What about this Christian religion you and the kids talk so much about?  What's that done for you?"

"The kids will have to speak for themselves," he continued, "but I can tell you that they don't smoke or drink or sniff gasoline or glue.  And they aren't going to bed with other kids the way a lot of their friends are." He paused momentarily.  "Some of the girls Tawana's age already have babies.  That ought to mean something."

She winced, but said nothing.

"I've never told you this, Rita.  I've been ashamed of it, but becoming a Christian helped me stop drinking, and I'm sure it kept me from committing suicide.  When I came home after the accident I waited for a chance to get a gun or a handful of sleeping pills and end my life."

There was a brief silence before he continued.  "And, putting my trust in Christ has helped me to stop shacking up with other women."

Her cheeks reddened and she looked away quickly.

Anger chased the color from her face and her cheeks were ashen.  "I've heard that from you a hundred times that you were going to quit chasing.  Why should I believe you this time?"

He remained silent.

"Remember all those times you promised me you were not going to drink any more?  And how long did that last?"

"I'm not going to defend myself.  I know how badly I treated you and the kids."

"This is something new," she snapped.  "I guess your old tricks didn't work, so you're trying some new ones.  But it's not going to do you any good.  I'm farther away from becoming a Christian now than I've ever been!"

With that she flounced into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.  Frank stared after her, pain gripping his heart.  He was so anxious to have her become a Christian

and put her drinking and chasing around behind her, but he had no reason to hope that she would change.

After all, he had treated her and the kids terribly before he became a Christian.  It was no wonder she refused to believe that his decision to walk with Christ had truly changed him.

The next morning a late model Mercedes pulled into the yard and stopped near the trailer.  Angus McDonald got out and knocked briskly at the Yazzie door.

Frank took him into the living room and had the boys go out to the shed to get the paintings.  Mr. McDonald studied them carefully without commenting, except to ask if he had any more.

"There's a couple at our place on the reserve."

"I'd like to see them, too.  And, how about photographs?  Have you taken pictures of any of them?"

He shook his head.

"I'm going to bring my camera tomorrow if it's all right.  I'd like to photograph your work."

Frank wanted to ask why, but he didn't.  He had never been around men like Angus McDonald, and felt it was best to let him do the talking.

Angus stayed a few minutes, had a cup of coffee, thanked him and left.  At his car he turned and came back.

"I almost forgot something.  Do you do any photography. along with your painting?" Mr. McDonald asked.

"Just a little - of the kids and my family back in New Mexico, but that's about the size of it."

"That's really not too important." With that Angus McDonald drove off.

"What did he want?"

Frank shook his head.  "I don't know for sure.  To tell you the truth, he didn't say why he wanted to see the paintings.  He just insisted on having a look at them."

The following morning the wind was down and the sun was warm and inviting, the sort of day Verda McDonald seemed to enjoy best.  But she didn't seem to enjoy the trip with Louis back to where she lost the coin purse and the ring.  She was more tense than he had ever seen her.  She sat in the bow of the boat, looking back at him.

"I didn't sleep at all last night," she said, her lower lip trembling.  "I kept thinking about that diamond and wondering what Angus was going to say if I'm not able to find it." She wiped away the tears with the corner of her handkerchief.  "You're sure you can find the place, aren't you?"

"I can find it, all right," he told her.  Grandpa Roberts had taught him how to watch for little things that would guide him back to where he  wanted to go.

"You don't know when that'll come in handy," Grandpa had explained.  "Say you caught a couple of mink in a certain place, or found a shorter trail to another lake.  If you've really watched where you've been and sort of written it down in your mind, you can go back there once or a hundred times.  Just keep your eyes open and remember what you see - a dead tree, a fallen log, a big rock.  Things like that."

A few minutes later Louis saw the place where they had been when she lost the ring.  He slowed the engine and raised it until the prop was just under the water.  As he pulled the boat toward shore he prayed silently that they would find the ring.

He knew what it was to have someone mad at him.  His dad used to get mad when he'd come home after he'd been drinking.  Louis'mom or Grandma Roberts would start giving his dad fits and he'd take it out on whoever happened to be there.

He remembered one time before his dad became a Christian.  He was just a little shaver and had knocked a bottle of whiskey on the floor and broke it.  His dad threw a chair at him and when he ducked it knocked out a window.  His dad yelled at him so loud Grandma Roberts came over to see what was wrong.

While Grandma was there Louis sneaked out and stayed with a friend for a couple of days until his dad sobered up and sort of forgot about it.

His dad didn't do that since he became a Christian, even when he had to punish him or Robert.  But, he had an idea what Verda McDonald was talking about.

"I'm almost afraid to look for it," she said, standing on the shore momentarily.  "You're sure this is the place?"

"It's where we were when - when you must have dropped the coin purse.  See that birch tree with the top broken out?  This is where we came ashore."

They started searching for the coin purse, but it was nowhere to be found.

"You're sure this is the place?" she asked uncertainly.

He nodded.

"I didn't remember that big rock on the beach."

"I did.  I had to be careful to keep from hitting it with the boat."

"Then the magpie nest was back there," she said, pointing to the bush.

Louis looked up at the nest.  "This is the place, all right."

They searched the area, step by step, without finding it.  "I knew it, Louis," she said, as though she was about to cry.  "When I got up this morning, I was sure we wouldn't find it."