Sweetheart Braves

by Pamela Sanderson

  "Your uncle?" Ester suggested.

  "He hasn't been helpful so far," Tommy said. "I can't kick her out."

  "I wish you would consider it," Linda said. "I know it's your family, but if you fall apart, the sacrifice isn't worth it."

  "What if we take her back to your family on the rez?" Ester said. "Me and Theo could drive her."

  "That's such a huge favor," he said.

  "We'd do it for you," she said.

  "You'd have to tie her up to get her to go back," Tommy said.

  "We would do that, too," Ester said, a sneaky smile on her face.

  "Give her an ultimatum: rehab, home, or the street," Rayanne said.

  Angie loved drama. She would pick the street and she'd stand outside his apartment and sob and tell passersby what a terrible person he was.

  "I need to talk to her," he said.

  "This is how this is going to go," Linda said. "We will all go to talk to her. She will choose rehab. We will take her there today, no excuses."

  Rayanne picked up the phone. "I'll tell them to expect her."

  Tommy imagined Angie with her arms crossed over her chest, shaking her head, unmoving. "She won't talk to you. It's better if I talk to her alone."

  "We're not doing that," Elizabeth said.

  "You're a good man, Tommy, but she knows how to punch your buttons. You need us behind you," Linda said.

  Now he had four Ind'n women in his life telling him what to do, and for the first time in weeks, he felt better.

  32

  Angie was on the couch watching TV when they arrived. There was a half-empty bottle of rum on the table, a bottle he hadn't found.

  "Now what?" she said. She frowned at his support crew and turned back to the TV.

  Tommy went around and shut it off.

  Angie gave him a smug smile. "They should know before they take your side." She looked over her shoulder. "He hit me."

  "I didn't hit you. You hit me, and I shoved you away."

  She waved at Elizabeth and the others as if to say, see?

  "You can't stay here anymore," he said, his voice sounded uncertain. "We found a place in rehab—"

  Angie snorted with laughter.

  "Or you can go home."

  She shook her head. "I'm getting better."

  "You aren't even close to getting better," Tommy said.

  She scrunched her face up and sniffled. "I'm trying my best. Everyone isn't like you."

  Tommy didn't know how to respond to that.

  "Can we talk without them watching?" Angie said, pointing over her shoulder as if the others couldn't hear her.

  When Tommy looked at them, all four of them shook their heads together, like they'd rehearsed it.

  "No," Tommy said.

  Angie picked up the bottle and he went over and grabbed it out of her hands. He held on to it for a moment too long, studying the label with the fancy lettering and a woodcut of an island with a sun shining down. Ester came over when he held it out and she took it to the sink.

  "That's mine," Angie said with a whine. But her eyes flicked away. She had more hidden elsewhere.

  "Angie? Please?" He couldn't keep his voice from breaking.

  Angie tried tears again. "Why are you doing this? We're family."

  "That's why," Tommy said. His eyes watered and he could hardly keep it together, but every time he wanted to cave, he saw this wall of Ind'n women there for him.

  The tears switched back off. "You're a loser. You can't make me do anything." Angie got up from the couch, but one look at the cold, hard glare from his team and she plopped back down and sat on her restless hands.

  "I'm not that bad," she said. "This should be a family thing. Not them. You've always been my favorite, that's why I came to you. I need you."

  "Knock it off," Tommy said. He wished he had a chair. His knees were weak, and he was so tired. "You sound like them. You sound just like them. Mean and nasty and jerking me around."

  "I'm not jerking you around," Angie said, her voice sharp as a whip.

  "Do you remember that night we stole gin out of my mom's truck?" Tommy's heart was racing.

  Angie smiled then and she let out a chuckle and held up two fingers. "Two bottles. They were big ones."

  "We thought we were so clever. You know what happened when I went home, reeking of gin that belonged to them? They beat me up. All of them. My sisters, too."

  His breath was short. He didn't mean to tell this story in front of Elizabeth or the rest of them, and now he was in the middle of it and trying to figure out how to cut out the worst bits. He let the momentum carry him. He'd never told anyone.

  "They kicked me with boots on. They whipped a belt or a rope or something across my back. Then they locked me out of the house. It was freezing. I broke into the garage. I felt so awful, I searched for gasoline, so I could drink that and end all the stupidity."

  One of them gasped. If he looked he wouldn't be able to finish.

  "That's not true," Angie said, a dumb look on her face.

  "Why would I make that up?"

  "You should have called me."

  He couldn't help laughing. How was drunk Angie going to rescue him from that?

  "Mom found me the next morning and freaked out because they'd cut my back open, so there was blood everywhere. I couldn't stop shivering. They brought me into the house and wrapped me up and, just like this, they couldn't stop telling me how sorry they were. They didn't want me to be upset. They didn't want me to cry. They wanted us to be a family. That is not how a family acts."

  Angie broke down for real. "I'm not like them."

  "If this is how you want to live, fine, but don't pretend that there is anything great about it. You can't live with me anymore. You can go to rehab, or you can go home. You cannot stay here."

  Angie shook her head.

  "Rayanne? Can one of you tell her?" He still wouldn't meet their eyes.

  Linda's voice came, calm and firm. "The rehab is not native run, but they have native-specific programs and counselors. You're not going to get a better offer."

  "Shut up," Angie said.

  "Don't talk to her like that," Tommy said. "She's been more of a family to me than any of you."

  Angie sobbed some more. Tommy stared at his hands. He didn't know how much more he could take.

  "You're being selfish because you have a girlfriend," she said, tears still coming.

  "You're sick, Angie. You need people who can help you get better."

  She covered her face with her hands and kept sobbing.

  "Go to rehab. Please."

  Angie sighed and took a long shuddering inhale. "I won't go unless you take me."

  Tommy could feel himself wavering, but he forced himself to say, "That isn't the deal."

  Angie sobbed again. "What if I go look?"

  "Close enough," Rayanne said. "I have a list of things you can bring."

  There were a few more rounds of eye rolling and bargaining before Rayanne was able to get her into her room to pack.

  Tommy sighed. When he finally dared to look up, all of them had tears in their eyes. Elizabeth came over and hugged him hard.

  "I'm okay. You guys are taking this harder than I did."

  Elizabeth let go long enough for Linda to grab him. "I don't think you're taking it hard enough," she said.

  Tommy was uncomfortable with the emotion rising in him. "Don't—"

  Linda sighed. "I love you, Tommy. I'm always here for you."

  He hadn't cried since he was a kid, so he didn't remember what it was like, but the ache in his heart made him uncomfortable. He let out a long shaky exhale. His eyes were damp when it was Ester's turn. Ester trembled in his arms when she hugged him. "I love you, too," she said.

  A sob snuck out, and he hung on to her for a few extra moments before Elizabeth edged her way back in.

  There were a few more arguments before they got Angie out. He wavered about going along, but Linda gave him a firm no and told him to st
ay home and rest. After they'd gone, he looked around the apartment.

  "I think everything is going to be okay," he said.

  Once the terrible cousin was gone, Elizabeth led Tommy to the couch and curled up with her arms around him. Even in his current state, he smelled like she remembered, like mountains and sunshine. His face looked relaxed for the first time since she'd arrived. She ran her fingers through his hair.

  "You got a haircut," she said.

  "I thought you'd never notice," he said with a slow smile.

  "It's been eventful since I arrived," she said.

  "You drove all the way from the rez," he said as if just realizing.

  "I had to get here somehow," she said. "It was awful."

  He felt warm and heavy in her arms. He gazed at her through half-closed eyes. "I think I'm in love with you."

  The words took her by surprise, thrown out there like that, freely given. She lowered her lips to brush over his. "But you're not sure?"

  "I've never been in love with anyone before."

  He was quiet for a long time, his head tilted back, exhausted and relieved like he'd been rescued in the wilderness after being lost for days. "Thanks for coming. I thought it might be too late."

  "I couldn't stop thinking about you," she said.

  "I never should have left like that. I regret it every minute." His breath was choppy with emotion.

  "It was confusing for everyone. I wasn't prepared to see George and didn't know what to say. He's—"

  "I don't want to talk about that guy," Tommy said.

  "Me either," Elizabeth said. She adjusted her body again. She felt like she couldn't get close enough.

  He fought the exhaustion, his head dropping down and then jerking back up to look at her.

  "Why don't you sleep?" she said.

  "I don't want to miss you."

  "I'm not going anywhere," she said.

  There was another quiet pause. Tommy's breathing evened out, his face peaceful. He forced his eyes open again.

  Elizabeth said, "I mean it. I'll be here. I fell for you when you brought out your cane collection for Granny. I left the rez and drove just for you. I'm in love with you, too. I'm sticking around, if that's okay."

  He settled back into her.

  She said, "Everyone was right. I wasn't cut out for that casino job. I don't want to live here forever, though. Someday I want to go back to the rez."

  Tommy let out a long sigh of relief. "As long as I'm with you. I want you to be my family."

  "I don't know," she said. "You've got quite a team of badass women on your side."

  "Yeah, I do. But everything feels right when I'm with you."

  "Me, too."

  His eyes closed for another minute before popping open again. "Can you do me a favor?" He told her about a bottle he'd hidden.

  "I'll get rid of it."

  "There might be more."

  "Then we'll look for them together." She kissed the top of his head. "Rest now. I'll be here when you wake up."

  Epilogue

  Tommy was still fiddling with the tablet when Elizabeth came through the door and tossed her bag on the table. She gave him a full body squeeze accompanied by a kiss that he felt all the way to the bottom of his feet.

  "I rushed," she said.

  "You're okay. We've got a few minutes."

  "Good," she said. She rummaged around in the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice. She drank half of it in one gulp. "I needed that. How did it go?"

  "Angie's doing good. She told me about two more bottles we didn't find."

  "And?"

  "Glug, glug, glug."

  Elizabeth flashed a smile. "I had no doubts."

  "She wants to move back here when she gets out of rehab."

  Elizabeth's smile lost its wattage. "What did you tell her?"

  "No way. I almost offered to help her find a place, but that felt like opening the door."

  "She doesn't have a job," Elizabeth said. "She have a plan to earn money?"

  "Not our problem," Tommy said. "She's going to talk to her dad. Fingers crossed, he will help."

  "Say that again."

  "Crossed fingers he will help?"

  "The other part."

  "Not our problem."

  Elizabeth smiled again. "Those words sound amazing from you."

  A tinny bell rang.

  "That it?" Elizabeth asked.

  "The tablet alarm. It's time."

  Elizabeth grabbed her phone and joined him in front of the screen. Tommy launched the app that Ester set up for them while Elizabeth called Kora. He propped the tablet up in her lap.

  "You guys on?" Elizabeth said, squinting at the screen.

  There were adjustments to be made on both sides before Granny's face appeared.

  Elizabeth said, "I can see you. I can't hear you. Can you see us?"

  "There's a button to click," Tommy said. He tapped it and Granny's creaky voice came through the speaker.

  "This damn thing do anything?"

  "It works!" Elizabeth squealed. "Does it work for you guys, too? Okay. I'm hanging up. Hi, Granny!"

  Elizabeth's joy washed over him. He'd never spent so much time with a person made of sunshine. Granny's expression was equally happy.

  "I like this fancy thing," Granny said.

  "Me too. The research center loaned us a tablet. We're learning how to write a grant, so we can try for a tribal history project to preserve stories from elders. Even elders who live far away."

  Granny had a delighted look on her face. "Good for you."

  "You're one of my topics," she said.

  Granny faked a bored look.

  "We worked with Dr. Murray at the research center and sent all the information to the Tribe. They're going to initiate a formal process to get your dress back but in the meantime we're trying to develop a process for borrowing the dress for a dance. Not sure how soon we can get that to happen."

  "It's okay," Granny said. She tapped her heart. "I know it will someday. Now I want to ask that one some questions." She meant Tommy.

  "Hey, Granny," he said.

  "How's that other one doing with city living?"

  Elizabeth's hand snuck around behind him and dug into his waistband—not sexy, just familiar.

  "She's doing great. She drove during rush hour on a Friday to get home from a meeting," Tommy said.

  "I knew it," Granny said.

  "She's homesick. We're coming down to visit..." He looked at Elizabeth.

  "Soon," she finished. "I enrolled in a museum training workshop. Turns out being Dorothy Scott's great-granddaughter looks good on your application. My class is an introduction, but if I like it, there are more in-depth classes. I'm going to finish that, and then we'll zoom down for a weekend."

  "You gonna get a job?"

  "Yeah, there's a casino not far from here," Elizabeth teased.

  Granny rewarded them with a terrifying reproachful look.

  "She's kidding," Tommy said. "Linda is in the middle of a giant thing with Crooked Rock. Once we get that going, she can do anything she wants."

  "I'm going to save our ceremonial objects," Elizabeth said.

  "Good," Granny said. "I'm proud of you. Visit me soon."

  "I love you, Granny," Elizabeth said.

  After they signed off, Elizabeth said, "What are we going to do if Linda can't get the center going?"

  "That's not an option. I'm going to figure out how to do more. With Ester going away, I'll have to learn things. I wrote down a bunch of ideas to research. I'm not going to let Linda down. I'm not going to let any of you down."

  He put his arms around her, content at last.

  THANK YOU FOR READING

  The story of the Crooked Rock Urban Indian Center will continue.

  * * *

  Book 4 Crooked Rock Braves is the story of Linda and Arnie and will wrap up the story events that began in Book 1 Heartbeat Braves.

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  Estimated releas
e date: Spring 2019.

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  Join my mailing list (www.pamelasanderson.com) to get the news when it’s out. Your email will never be shared and you may unsubscribe at any time.

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  Reviews help readers find books. All reviews are appreciated.

  ENDNOTES

  Indian Country is a diverse place. Tribal communities, individuals, and organizations are different depending on their history, culture, traditions, geography and leaders—this is true of individual tribes, and is true of urban Indian communities. There is no typical organization that serves urban Indians.

  * * *

  I’ve created Crooked Rock as a place to serve my stories. My intentions are always respectful and based on my experience and observations as an Indian, and in the course of my work in Indian Country.

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  I've presented an over-simplified explanation for how cultural objects are returned to Tribes. You can learn more about the repatriation process from the National Museum of the American Indian. (http://nmai.si.edu/explore/collections/repatriation/)

  * * *

  You might be wondering about the cover. Are those native people? Unfortunately, no. The cover is made from standard stock photos. The selection of stock photos of indigenous people is skimpy, and sadly, my numerous attempts to set up a photo session of my own failed.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, a huge thanks to my early readers Kira Walsh, Marguerite Croft, Jennifer Malace, and Hannah Parker. Your time and comments are always helpful and appreciated. More thanks to editor Lorelei Logsdon (www.loreleilogsdon.com) and cover artist Holly Heisey (www.hollyheiseydesign.com). And a huge grateful hug to my ever-patient husband Bob Hughes.

  About the Author