CONCORD -- They were ''the king and queen of contemporary American literature,'' two powerful and versatile writers whose private love story infused every book.
''For Louise, who found the song and gave me voice,'' reads Michael Dorris' dedication in his latest novel, ''Cloud Chamber,'' published earlier this year.
''To Michael,'' followed by the symbols for the Queen and Jack of Hearts, was Louise Erdrich's dedication in ''Tales of Burning Love,'' her novel published last year.
Over 16 years they shared their writing, their American Indian backgrounds and the raising of six children: three he adopted before he married Erdrich and three born afterward.
But by the time their latest books came out, the love story was falling apart. About a year ago, Erdrich and Dorris separated and she told him she wanted a divorce, in part because of his deepening depression.
Last week -- the day Dorris was supposed to speak at the 25th anniversary celebration of Dartmouth College's Native American Studies program, which he co-founded in 1972 and headed until 1985 -- he checked into a Concord motel under an assumed name. Sometime that night, he committed suicide.
After his death, prosecutors in Minneapolis said he was facing possible criminal charges. Police records showed the accusation involved one of his daughters.
Dorris' death and the accusations have raised agonizing questions for his friends and family. But they say those questions should not overshadow his life's work or his generous spirit.
''What I want remembered about him was his capacity for giving; his extraordinary caring for his family, his students, his friends, his readers; his passionate pride in doing good work,'' said state Rep. Peter Burling, who became close friends with Dorris when both families lived in Cornish.
His New Hampshire friends said Dorris kept in constant touch, even after taking leave from Dartmouth 10 years ago and moving to Montana, then Minneapolis.
When Burling visited Montana, Dorris presented him with a hand-tooled leather belt buckle inscribed ''Pete.'' ''Gee, it was hokey,'' he said, laughing at the memory.
In Cornish, Dartmouth President James Freedman's family spent every Thanksgiving with Erdrich and Dorris, alternating homes. When Dorris was the host, he did all the cooking himself, Freedman said.
''He loved it (and) he just insisted on it,'' he said. ''He was a maestro in the kitchen. He'd have four pots boiling on the stove, something in the oven, and it was all wonderful.''
At Dartmouth, Dorris nurtured the Native American Studies program, making it academically respectable and popular with students.
He also devoted countless hours to persuading American Indian students to attend the Ivy League college -- no small feat when the school's sports mascot was a caricatured ''Indian.''
Dorris helped the American Indian students protest the mascot and stop the school from using it, said history Professor Jere Daniell.
''Michael played a very important communal role through his forceful personality,'' Daniell said. ''But he had a soft style. He wasn't confrontational at all.''
One of Dorris' early students was Erdrich. From her teacher, he became her mentor, editor and agent for her novels and collections of poetry.
They married, and Dorris also began writing fiction, with Erdrich's encouragement. Dorris wrote novels, children's books and nonfiction. He and Erdrich coauthored the novel ''The Crown of Columbus.''
Dorris, who loved book tours and enjoyed meeting readers and the press, continued handling much of the publicity for himself and Erdrich, who is shy of meeting strangers. At the same time, he spent as much time as he could with their children so Erdrich would have time to write.
''We raised our children as equally as we could,'' Erdrich wrote in the dedication of her book about motherhood, ''The Blue Jay's Dance.'' ''He has always bought me time at the expense of his own.''
Still, there was occasional friction.
''We're certainly not above feeling competitive with one another ... but we take such a hand in each other's work,'' she said in a 1994 interview with The Associated Press.
Dorris is best known for his award-winning 1989 book ''The Broken Cord,'' which chronicled his oldest son's struggle with fetal alcohol syndrome, the severe physical and mental disabilities that resulted from his birth mother's drinking. When he died, he was working on a follow-up about fetal alcohol effect, a less debilitating condition that affected his other two adopted children.
Dorris toured the country, talking to health professionals and advocating for more education, detoxification centers and health care for pregnant women, especially on Indian reservations.
''For Native American people ... it brought fetal alcohol syndrome out of the closet,'' said Wilma Mankiller, former chief of the Cherokee Nation.
Dorris struggled with his own problems, too, but few friends knew he had suicidal depressions from the first, Erdrich said.
Benjamin Dorris, his first cousin, sensed something was wrong the last time he saw Dorris, around Christmas 1995.
Dorris was still grieving over his oldest son's death in a 1991 car accident and was depressed about his difficulties with his other two adopted children, Benjamin Dorris said. The son had been accused of trying to extort money from Dorris and Erdrich, and their adopted daughter had cut off contact.
The allegation of child sexual abuse, following Erdrich's decision to divorce him, was ''a double whammy,'' said Douglas Foster, former editor of Mother Jones magazine and a close friend who called Dorris and Erdrich ''the king and queen of contemporary American literature.''
Foster believes the sexual abuse accusation was false.
The day Dorris learned of the accusation, ''He called me and said, 'My life is over,''' said Foster.
