Chapter 8Whatever Kit expected to find at the White River Apache village, it was not what she saw as Bret steered around a bend and brought the truck to a stop. Almost before the wheels quit turning, a swarm of dogs and children surrounded them. Since all the youngsters wore blue jeans and miniature versions of the plaid western-cut shirts favored by the grownup cowboys and Indians, she wasn’t sure which of the black-haired, bright-eyed mob were boys and which were girls. All of them sported identical bowl-style haircuts; their thick, straight hair lopped off evenly at earlobe level.
“Uncle Bret, Uncle Bret, did you bring us candy?” Bouncing with excitement, one of the taller kids grabbed the handle and tugged the pickup’s door open.
“Now why would I do that? Candy rots your teeth and ma
