by Pamela Clare
Traffickers often chose to dump their cargo rather than risk capture.
“What were they carrying?”
“Thirty kilos of uncut cocaine.”
Zach gave a low whistle. “That’s what—five million on the street?”
“Something like that. Ren and I went after them, following boot prints, but they hadn’t gone far. They ambushed us, opened fire, hitting Ren in the belly. I took one out, but the other rabbited, heading south again.”
“You pursued.”
Jason nodded. “Once I saw that Ellio and Dale were taking care of Ren, I pursued on foot. His trail was easy to follow, but he knew the landscape as well as I did. When we got close to the line, he started to run. He thought he was home free.”
“You followed him to the other side, crossed the border.”
“Hell, yes, I did. I’m TO and a dual citizen. That land belongs to our people, even if it is in Mexico. The bastard had just shot a federal agent on TO land. I wasn’t going to let him get away.”
“I get it. I do. I’ve worked black bag jobs on the other side of the line, bringing high-value suspects across the border in secret. I called it ‘unofficial extradition.’ If you don’t get caught, you’re a hero. If you do, you’re fucked.”
“Yeah.” Jason was definitely the latter. “He was out in the open. The area there is pretty flat, so he had nowhere to hide. He turned and raised his rifle. I fired before he did and killed him. I didn’t know there was a group of Mexican agents nearby.”
“Oh, shit. That’s when the real fun began.”
Jason nodded. “They came in hot, weapons out. They frisked me, cuffed me, took my firearms, my badge, my personal ID. I thought they might be working for the cartel and have instructions to blow my head off right there. I was lying face down in the dirt with a pistol to my head when the rest of the Wolves showed up.”
“The pack had your six.”
“They were careful to stay on the other side, but there was a lot of shouting. The Mexican agents finally released me. They escorted me back to the border and filed a complaint with DC the next morning.”
“I heard that part of it—the complaint, the unpaid leave—but I didn’t know what had happened. I feel for you, man.”
“I’ve got a hearing next month. The board will expect me to grovel, but I don’t regret it. The bastard was still on TO land, man, our land. He’d just shot one of my brothers.”
“How is Ren?”
“He’s going to be okay, but he won’t be back on the job for a while.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. McBride didn’t bring up Elena, which was a relief. All Jason had told him in his email was that he’d broken off their engagement. He hadn’t told him why.
He changed the subject. “Tell me about this camp.”
“Naomi Belcourt, a Lakota friend, bought it and opened it last summer. She named it Camp Mato Sapa—Camp Black Bear. The idea was to bring in Lakota kids who live in poverty on reservations here and give them a space where they can build their confidence and feel pride in their heritage. They do fun things like art classes, jewelry-making, a ropes course, Lakota language classes, story-telling—stuff like that.”
“That sounds fun.” Jason could see the value of that—provided the experience didn’t encourage children to leave the reservation when they grew up.
The Nations needed young people to stick around to help build a better future.
McBride told him how a wildfire had threatened to burn the camp and Scarlet Springs to the ground just two months ago. The phone lines to the camp had been brought down by a fallen tree branch, and there was no cell service in the canyon. “No one at the camp had any idea that a fire was heading toward them until a sheriff’s deputy drove up to make sure they had evacuated. By then, it was almost too late.”
“Good God.”
“There were more than forty people still there, most of them children. They didn’t have enough room in the available vehicles to evacuate everyone. Volunteers stayed behind knowing they would probably die—some of the camp counselors, a kid who’d hidden in a tipi, Naomi’s husband, Chaska, Chaska’s grandfather, and Gabe Rossiter.”
“Kat James’ husband?” Jason knew him.
The man had lost a leg saving Kat’s life, but it hadn’t slowed him down.
“Yeah.” McBride took a swig of his coffee. “I was in Scarlet that day, helping to evacuate people. Members of the Rocky Mountain Search and Rescue Team tried to get to the camp but came close to being entrapped themselves. Rossiter and Belcourt are both Team members, so it was personal for them. Then we got word via radio that the rescue attempt had failed and the camp had burned over. There were a few awful hours when we believed they had all burned to death.”
That wasn’t how Jason would choose to die. “That must have been hell.”
“Naomi and Winona, Chaska’s younger sister, were in shock. The whole town was grieving. When the fire was under control, members of the Team went out with a search dog to recover their friends’ remains and found them alive. I almost couldn’t believe it when I got the message.”
“Thank God.” Jason had been raised with a mix of O’odham beliefs and Catholicism and was tempted to cross himself. “How did they escape?”
“They spotted a cave in a cliff wall above the camp. Rossiter free soloed up to it, ropes on his shoulder, then pulled the rest of them to safety.”
“I should have known.” Jason chuckled, but his relief was genuine. “That guy has a gift, some kind of superpower.”
“Tell me about it.” McBride grinned. “The camp itself was obliterated. We’ll be camping on-site and helping to build new cabins. They hope to have the place up and running again by next summer.”
Jason was more than happy to help with this cause. “Let’s do it.”
Chapter 2
Winona poured two cups of coffee grounds into steaming water and set the big, old enamel coffee pot on top of the grate above the cookfire to boil. Breakfast was over, but she wanted to make sure there was plenty of caffeine to keep everyone going. She glanced around to see what else they might need.
Cups. Creamer.
Around the nearest picnic table, Naomi and Chaska handed out hard hats to those who didn’t own one and went over the day’s strategy with the volunteers. Fortunately, some of them had construction experience.
“The floor systems are finished, and the utility runs are in place.” Naomi spread out the architectural plans for the cabins so everyone could see them. “The goal this weekend is to complete the rough-framing on all ten cabins.”
Heads nodded.
“We can do that.”
“No problem.”
Well, that was a relief.
This camp had been Naomi’s dream, her way of giving Lakota kids a positive outlook about their heritage and reinforcing their sense of self-worth. In the aftermath of the fire, Naomi had just been grateful that no lives had been lost. Now, she wanted to rebuild the camp better than it had been so it could reopen next June. Winona would do all she could to support that goal.
She walked back to the Mess Hall and made her way through the dining area to the kitchen, where Kat was cleaning a cast-iron skillet with a paper towel. “The coffee is on. I’ll start on the dishes.”
“There’s really not that much to wash.” Kat set the skillet down, picked up another, wiped it clean.
“Thank goodness for compostable plates and utensils.” Winona filled one of the big, stainless steel sinks, put on a pair of rubber gloves, and settled the big stainless serving pans in the hot, sudsy water.
Winona hadn’t known Kat well until this past summer when they’d all believed that Chaska, Grandpa, and Kat’s husband Gabe had died in the fire. She’d watched Kat muster the emotional strength to comfort Naomi despite her own grief. Winona had the highest respect for her.
They fell into a relaxed conversation while they worked, talking about their families, their jobs, the news from Pine Ridge and
Navajoland, Kat’s home.
Then Winona remembered.
She slipped off the rubber gloves. “I forgot to take out more cups and creamer. I’ll be right back.”
She grabbed two more plastic-wrapped packages of cups and a container of powdered creamer and hurried out the door—only to run headlong into a black T-shirt and a very hard body. “Oh! Sorry.”
“No problem.” The man looked down at her through intense brown eyes, his hands on her arms to steady her. “I’m looking for Winona.”
Winona stood there, staring up at him, temporarily speechless.
Aiiii.
He was so … hot.
He spoke with a rez accent and stood at least as tall as Chaska, his dark hair cut short. His black T-shirt stretched over a muscular torso, a tattoo of a maze peeking out from beneath his sleeve on his left shoulder. And his face...
Piercing brown eyes. High, angular cheekbones. A strong jaw. Full lips.
Say something!
“I’m … uh… I’m Winona.”
He stepped back, let his hands fall to his sides. “Naomi said you’d have coffee cups. I can see she was right.”
“Oh. Yes.” Winona tried to open the plastic to give him a single cup but somehow dropped both packages onto the porch.
He bent down, picked them up. “I can take them from here. You can go back to whatever you were doing.”
“Thanks.” She handed him the creamer, too.
“I’m Jason Chiago.” He tucked the cups under one arm, held out his free hand, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
She shook his hand, his fingers warm, his touch seeming to ignite sparks on her skin. “Winona Belcourt. I’m Naomi’s sister-in-law.”
“Jason!” Kat came up behind Winona, stepped outside. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey, Kat. It’s been a while.”
That’s when it clicked.
Heat rose into Winona’s cheeks.
This was that friend. Kat’s Tohono O’odham friend. The Shadow Wolf.
The Shadow Wolves were legendary among Native people and were widely acknowledged as the best trackers in the world.
Great.
She’d certainly made a good first impression.
Fighting the impulse to slink away and crawl under the nearest rock, she stood politely while Kat and Jason spoke. She couldn’t help but notice his broad shoulders. Or the bulge of his biceps. Or the way his jeans rode low on his narrow hips.
No, of course, she wasn’t staring at him. Okay, so maybe she was, but he was standing right in front of her. What else was she supposed to do?
“How long are you staying?” Kat asked.
“I’m not sure—a week or two maybe. I thought I’d lend a hand here and then maybe see some sights.” He glanced over at the group of volunteers, who were dividing into teams. “I should probably get to work.”
“Chiago, you slacker!” Zach McBride called, a grin on his face. “Quit talking to the pretty women and pick up a hammer.”
“You go on. We’ll talk soon.” Kat waved. “Hey, Zach!”
“Nice to meet you, Winona.” Jason walked down the stairs and rejoined the others, leaving Winona to gawk … at his butt.
Holy smokes.
Back in the kitchen, Kat grabbed a dishtowel. “There’s something you should know about Jason. I know he’s good-looking, but, last I heard, he was engaged.”
Given that Winona had just made a fool of herself, the news almost came as a relief. “The good ones always are.”
“That’s it.” Jason held fast to one side of the wall frame, McBride the other, as they raised it and set it in place. “Perfect. Hold it there.”
Grandpa Belcourt took Jason’s end. “I’ve got it.”
Jason dropped to one knee, grabbed his hammer and the framing nails, and fixed the wall frame into position, starting with the ends and then moving toward the center. “One wall frame in place, three more to go.”
Given that the fourth member of their team, a young Cherokee named Adam, was sick from the altitude and resting in his tent, Jason was proud of their progress.
It felt good to do something physical, the sun on his face, fresh air in his lungs, sweat on his skin. More than that, the work got him out of his head, giving him something to focus on besides his screwed-up life—or Winona Belcourt.
Damn.
Okay, so maybe she was still on his mind.
She was beautiful, with long, dark hair, delicate features, and sweet curves that her oversized denim shirt couldn’t conceal. She’d gotten flustered when she’d bumped into him, her embarrassment adorable. He’d felt a strange pull between them when he’d shaken her hand, and he’d seen the flush in her cheeks. She’d felt it, too.
Mutual attraction.
Yeah, well, he needed to shut that down now. He no longer did casual hookups, and he had no interest in starting a relationship. His fellow Wolves told him he’d get over what Elena had done and learn to trust again. Maybe that was true, but he wasn’t there yet. Besides, he had no intention of moving away from Sells and abandoning his people or the O’odham himdag—their way of life.
He knew where he was meant to be.
Jason tested the wall frame with a shake. “Let’s level this, square it, and brace it.”
Grandpa Belcourt pulled a bandana from the pocket of his jeans and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “It looks like my granddaughter has food for us.”
Jason saw Winona setting bread and rolls on the table. He willed himself to look away. “Let’s finish this and wash up.”
By the time they were done and Jason had washed his hands—he always carried paper soap to use with water from his water bottle—lunch was waiting for them. Volunteers drifted toward the picnic tables, joking and laughing with one another.
Winona explained to the group how it worked, the breeze teasing tendrils of dark hair that had come loose from her braid. “It’s a do-it-yourself sandwich smorgasbord. Start on this end with the plates and forks. There’s turkey, roast beef, salami, baloney, bread, and rolls, with all the fixings. We’ve got cookies and fruit for dessert.”
Naomi pointed to a large cooler at the end of the table, fingers massaging one temple. “We’ve got soft drinks and bottled water on ice if you’re thirsty.”
Jason motioned Grandpa Belcourt forward. “You first, Grandfather.”
It was an almost universal Indigenous custom to refer to all elders as Grandfather or Grandmother—or Uncle or Auntie—out of respect.
The old man gave a nod of thanks and picked up a paper plate.
Winona stood across from him, hands on her hips. “Are you working hard, Grandpa?”
“I’m hardly workin’.” The old man tossed two pieces of white bread onto his plate, chuckling at his own joke.
“That’s not true.” Jason found himself wanting to draw her gaze. “He’s keeping the rest of us in line.”
But Winona’s attention seemed to be reserved for her grandfather, concern on her pretty face. “Promise me you won’t overdo it, okay?”
Grandpa Belcourt slathered mayonnaise on his bread then piled on the roast beef. “Have you met my granddaughter, Winona? She fusses over me like an old hen.”
“She and I bumped into each other this morning.” Jason put mustard, turkey, and Swiss on wheat bread. “Thanks for the meal, Winona.”
At last, she looked up at him. “Thanks for your help today.”
The moment her gaze met his, Jason felt it—a bone-deep sense of awareness. He found himself searching for words and finding none.
Grandpa Belcourt spoke, giving Jason time to pull himself together. “Winona is a wildlife vet. She helps our furry and feathered relatives.”
Jason stupidly repeated what the old man had just said. “A wildlife vet.”
So, she was smart, too.
She nodded. “I rehabilitate sick and injured animals.”
A hand came down on Jason’s shoulder. “Hey, Chiago. Kat said you’d be here.”
Gabe laughed. “Is McBride telling stories about me again? I’ll grab some food, and we can sit down somewhere and catch up.”
“No cutting in line,” Jason teased. “You have to go to the back.”
“Ah, man!” Rossiter headed to the rear of the line.
Jason had just finished making his sandwich when he heard Winona gasp.
“Naomi!”
Winona ran to where Naomi lay in the dirt. “Are you okay?”
Naomi pressed her fingers to her temples. “I feel … funny.”
Then Chaska was there, kneeling beside his wife. “What happened?”
“She just sank to the ground.”
“I’ve had a headache, and then I got so dizzy.”
That’s when Winona noticed the swelling in Naomi’s ankles.
Oh, God.
She met Chaska’s gaze, tried to show him she was serious without upsetting Naomi. “She needs to go to the ER now.”
Naomi shook her head. “We’ve got all of these volunteers here. I don’t have much time before the baby comes. Someone needs to start making the stew for—”
“These guys can order pizza if they have to.” Chaska fished out his keys, handed them to Winona, and scooped Naomi into his arms. “We’re taking you to the hospital. Nothing is more important than you and our baby.”
Kat ran down the steps of the mess hall toward them. “Is she in labor?”
Winona shook her head. “She got dizzy and sank to the ground. We’re taking her to the ER. Can you watch over everything until I get back?”
“Of course.” Kat waved her away. “Go.”
Winona hurried to the SUV, unlocked the doors, and stood back while Chaska lifted Naomi into the front passenger seat. “Do you want me to drive?”
“I’m fine.” He helped Naomi buckle her seatbelt.
