by Jenna Kernan
Rhodes crashed to the floor on the opposite side of the bed.
“Check him,” said Jack as he moved toward the door. “Crane is down.”
Dylan rounded the bed toward the motionless Rhodes, catching a glimpse of the woman’s body sprawled in the hall outside Meadow’s room and of Jack pressed to the wall beside the door, weapon raised.
Meadow followed Dylan as far as the foot of the bed.
“Get down,” said Dylan, and Meadow crouched.
Dylan checked Rhodes and found no pulse. Jack had hit him in the breastbone. Dylan retrieved the man’s pistol from the floor.
“Two heading this way,” said Jack from the door. “Armed with rifles.”
Dylan went to the window and glanced out at the night. Meadow’s room sat directly over the entrance, three floors down, but there was a flat portico one story beneath them.
Dylan used the chair to smash the window and lowered Meadow over the window casements.
“Get ready,” he said. She nodded, and he dropped her. She landed on her feet and then fell to her side. He turned to Jack. “You’re next.”
“What have we got?” said Jack, retreating backward toward Dylan’s position.
“Portico on two, about ten feet down.”
“Together, then,” he said.
They went out the window, using the casements to dangle to full length before dropping beside Meadow.
Gunfire sounded above them.
“They’re in the room,” said Jack, raising his weapon and aiming at the windows above them.
Dylan helped Meadow to her feet. She was unsteady and pale as moonlight. What had they given her in there?
He helped her to the edge of the portico. Jack was already on the ground beside the entrance with his service pistol raised. He fired three shots as Dylan lifted Meadow and sent her over the edge once more.
The instant she landed, he dropped beside her, and all three made it under cover as the two gunman above returned fire.
“They’ll be down as fast as they can take those stairs,” said Jack.
“Let’s go.”
Dylan never let go of Meadow’s hand as they raced along the sidewalk, close to the building and then out to the lot. Alarm bells sounded behind them. Their pursuers had reached ground level.
Jack opened the door to the city vehicle and Dylan lifted Meadow inside before scrambling up beside her. When Jack reached the driver’s seat, he touched the exposed wires together and the truck engine turned over. They pulled away and out of the gate, making the turn as the lights of the police units swarmed past them.
“Your neck is bleeding again,” said Jack.
“We need to lose this car,” said Dylan.
Meadow clung to Dylan, burying her face against the muscles of his chest. He rubbed her shoulder and held her tight.
“I’ve got you, Meadow. And I’m not letting go.”
They switched vehicles at Jack’s police unit near the Flagstaff lot and headed east toward their reservation, taking the winding route past the series of reservoirs until they reached Turquoise Canyon land. Meadow slept on his shoulder much of the way. Dylan kept one arm around her and the opposite hand pressed to his neck wound, which had come alive with a throbbing ache now that the adrenaline had ebbed away to nothing.
Jack called ahead and a welcoming committee waited at the tribe’s health clinic. The group included Jack’s brother Kurt, the paramedic, Kenshaw Little Falcon and Jack’s boss, the chief of tribal police, Wallace Tinnin.
“You about to get fired?” asked Dylan, eyeing the sour expression on Tinnin’s face.
“Or promoted. Hard to tell.”
“Is that Forrest?” said Dylan, looking at the man standing beside tribal police chief Wallace Tinnin.
Jack sighed. “Yup, and he’s got jurisdiction to investigate federal crimes on the rez.”
“With permission,” said Dylan.
“Technically. Get ready to be arrested.”
Jack parked the SUV and Meadow roused, her words slurred. “We here?”
“Yes, darling,” said Dylan.
Jack gave him an odd look and Dylan lifted his chin. Jack’s brow quirked in silent question and Dylan nodded.
Yes, this was his woman.
“Okay then,” said Jack. “Glad I didn’t risk my butt for just anyone.”
“I don’t expect she’ll stay,” said Dylan.
Jack looked at Meadow, who rubbed her eyes with both hands. Her wrists were red and raw from the restraints. Her hair stuck up on top like a breaking blue wave and she was still wearing the hospital gown.
“She might surprise you.”
Chief Tinnin reached Jack’s door. “We have medical. Anyone need a stretcher or wheelchair?”
Jack gave Tinnin a rundown of their injuries as Dylan helped Meadow to a wheelchair. Inside, Dylan refused to leave her as they checked her over and drew blood to determine what they’d given her at the mental-health facility.
Dylan needed his neck wound sutured as he’d torn out several of the staples. Kurt took care of that as Dylan sat at Meadow’s side. Late that night, Meadow was moved to a room and Dylan took the bed beside hers. He had planned to keep watch but dozed and woke to someone calling his name. He blinked his eyes open, trying to shake off the grogginess of slumber. Jack stood at the foot of his bed looking worn-out. A glance at the windows showed that morning had come—Monday morning, he realized.
“What time is it?” asked Dylan.
“Nearly nine. I let you sleep as long as I could.”
Meadow did not rouse, but her breathing was steady and slow.
Dylan’s neck twinged when he sat up, but his throat no longer hurt as much as the soft tissue at his neck. He swung his legs over the side of the narrow hospital bed.
Jack gave him the short version of events.
“We are wanted for the shooting at the facility in Flagstaff. Rhodes’s body was not found on the scene. But Crane’s was. She’s dead.”
Dylan knew that meant there was no one to corroborate their version of events.
“Video surveillance?”
“Surprisingly, they have cameras on every corridor. Forrest has a team there.”
“They’ll see the gunman,” said Dylan.
“Maybe.”
“You know her mother sent those men. She planned for Meadow to die in there.”
“Hard to prove,” said Jack. “Her mother is contending that she was worried about Meadow. Her actions come off as those of a concerned parent dealing with a drug-addicted child.”
“Meadow doesn’t do drugs,” said Dylan.
“She’s been in detox once after a public indecency charge. She was swimming naked in a fountain at a private country club. According to Forrest her family pulled strings and she got community service.”
Dylan realized that no one would believe a thing Meadow said. Not a judge. Not a jury.
“What do we do?”
“You’re a war hero. Highly decorated. I’d say your word is good. But Forrest said that the press is spinning you as a PTSD vet with a gun. Morning papers are out. Her mom is good.”
“So she’s cleared of her husband’s murder and she’s clear of any charges of wrongdoing regarding Meadow?”
“She will be. I’m certain.”
“And we are both wanted?”
Jack nodded. “That’s right.”
“What does Lupe say about the explosives?”
“She denies any knowledge of her husband’s radical involvement.”
Dylan swore.
“Oh, and she is suing the papers for mentioning that PAN might be a feeder organization for recruitment to WOLF and BEAR. Forrest says she’ll win.”
“So she gets away with it all?�
�� asked Dylan.
“The FBI has found nothing to implicate Lupe. But they don’t have the explosives, either. Forrest is trying to convince his superiors that the ridge fire was a test and that the real target is one or more of the reservoirs.”
“How’s that going?” asked Dylan.
Jack shook his head. “Not good.”
“If they take out either of the dams above us, it will flood our land.”
“Wipe out Piñon Forks completely. Might go as high as Koun’nde.”
The two men stared at each other. They both knew they could not let that happen. It was their duty to their people to stop BEAR from destroying their home.
“Skeleton Cliff Dam isn’t on our land,” said Jack.
“But we have to protect it.”
“And Alchesay Canyon,” added Jack, naming the dam above Skeleton Cliff and holding back the enormous Goodwin Lake. Below that dam lay Two Mountain Lake, Skeleton Cliff Dam and then their rez, bordering Turquoise Lake. And just beyond their western border was Red Rock Dam, Antelope Lake and, finally, the Mesa Salado Dam. The entire system provided drinking water for both Phoenix and Tucson and supplied the electricity for much of the state. If that was the target, it was a good one. Taking out the dams would send them all back to the 1800s. No air-conditioning, no clean water, no refrigeration. Southwestern Arizona would go from a thriving web of cities to the largest refugee camp in the nation.
Dylan swallowed back the dread at the possibilities. Then he drew a deep breath. The targets were spread over forty of the roughest, most inhospitable miles of territory in the state.
“We need more men,” said Dylan.
“Kenshaw is recruiting now. I called my brother Tommy to come home. Kurt is already a full member of Tribal Thunder. Wallace Tinnin wants to move from the Turquoise Guardians to Tribal Thunder, as well. Kenshaw thinks it’s a good idea.”
The chief of tribal police had always been a leader of the medicine society, but now he wished to join it to the warrior sect.
“He knows it will be bad,” said Dylan.
“We’ll need him.”
Dylan nodded.
Jack motioned toward Meadow. “She can’t go home.”
Dylan looked at Meadow’s sleeping face and felt a squeezing pressure behind his breastbone.
“I know that. I wanted her to stay because she wanted to, not because she had no other choice.”
“You love her?” asked Jack.
Dylan nodded, not taking his eyes off her.
“Always pictured you with an Apache girl.”
Dylan looked at Jack.
“Well, sometimes things don’t turn out like you plan.”
“That’s true enough,” said Jack.
“You ever going to open that DNA sibling test?” asked Dylan.
“Sometime. Soon maybe.”
Dylan knew he’d been carrying the results around with him for weeks.
“Carter would want you to have your answers,” said Dylan, certain his twin would not have provided the sample if he objected to Jack discovering the truth.
“What are you going to do?” asked Jack.
“Stay here. Protect the tribe. Protect Meadow. Ask a certain heiress to marry me.”
Jack didn’t look surprised, rather like he expected Dylan to say something like this.
“Forrest and Cosen won’t arrest us on federal land, but they can’t keep state officials from trying.”
“We have to stay on Indian land.”
“For a while.”
“Suits me.” He wondered how Meadow would do without her parties and clubs and private limo.
“You marry her and she’s protected, too,” said Jack. “Otherwise, the sheriff can execute a warrant here.”
“I don’t want her to marry me because she has to.”
Jack shrugged. “She doesn’t seem the sort not to do what she pleases.”
“How will I know?”
“What?”
“If she is marrying me for me or because I can protect her?”
Jack scratched the back of his head. “Don’t know.”
Dylan moved to stand over Meadow. He stroked her tangled hair from her face.
“I love her, Jack. And I want her to love me back.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Meadow opened her eyes to find herself lying in a twin bed beneath a familiar red, black and turquoise blanket. She fingered the wool and sank down against clean sheets that smelled of bleach and soap. This was Dylan’s guest room and library. He had brought her here after the fire.
“You awake now?” The woman’s voice was melodious, almost a song.
Meadow opened her eyes to see an unfamiliar Apache woman sitting beside her. The woman lowered the sewing she had on her lap and met Meadow’s gaze with directness. There was something very familiar about her.
“My son asked me to watch over you. He is meeting with the FBI and tribal leadership. I’m Dotty Tehauno, Dylan’s mom.”
Meadow pushed herself up to her elbows and blinked at the woman. The resemblance between mother and son was remarkable, especially around the eyes and mouth, but in Dotty the generous mouth seemed more welcoming and her eyes were more speculative.
“You’ve been asleep all day. It’s Tuesday afternoon now.”
Meadow vaguely recalled being lifted from a vehicle and carried through the bright afternoon sunlight. Was that yesterday?
Jack had woken her at the medical clinic and the doctor had checked her over before releasing her. They had wanted her out of there before the sheriff came looking for her and Dylan had driven her here.
The woman offered her a drink and Meadow swallowed one mouthful after another. Apple juice, she realized, sweet and wonderful. The woman helped her set the glass on the side table.
“He’s never asked me to watch over a woman before. He said you’re important. So what I want to know is if you are important to this investigation or important to my son.”
Both, she hoped. “Dylan saved my life.”
“More than once, if I can believe Ray Strong, and usually I don’t. He just got back from that ridge fire. It’s out but burned fifteen thousand acres. Be some mudslides with the rain, I’ll bet. Dylan should have been there, too. Fighting that fire. Now he won’t get paid.” Her expression showed reproach. Both women knew why Dylan was not on the line with his crew.
“I have money,” said Meadow.
“No, you don’t. You used to have money. Now you’ve got a crazy mother who wants you dead, a brother who is planning to blow up the parts of the state that they didn’t burn down and a father who died trying to save you. I’m sorry to hear about your father. But what you don’t have is money. Not anymore. So that might make you think that you need to find someone who can protect you, because you don’t have money to do that anymore. So I wanted to tell you this. My son is not your protector. My son deserves a woman who loves him and who can defend herself.”
Meadow felt herself being judged and found lacking. But why not? What had she done with her life but screw up? She tried to think of one redeeming act she had accomplished with her advantages and could not come up with a single thing.
Her head bowed. “I think you’re right.”
She was met with silence. Meadow looked up to find Dotty regarding her with cautious eyes.
“Your son is a wonderful man. He’s smart and brave and selfless. He deserves someone like that.”
“But you’re not smart?”
“I’m smart. But I didn’t do well in school. Schools,” she corrected.
“I heard you went to the FBI and told them about your mother.”
That made her look like a traitor, Meadow knew, turning in her own mother.
Mea
dow nodded.
“I think that is brave.”
Meadow narrowed her eyes at Dotty. Was she playing some game with her?
Dotty lifted the fabric on her lap and placed another row of careful stitches.
“That leaves selfless.” She flicked her gaze from the seam to Meadow. “What are you prepared to sacrifice?”
“I’d give my life for Dylan.”
“Very dramatic. Sticking around would be harder. His father left us when he was young. My son has always felt that loss. He needs someone who will stay. If you can’t do that, you’d better go sooner rather than later.”
“I don’t even know if he wants me to stay.”
Dotty lifted the stitching. “He asked me to watch over you.”
Meadow puzzled over this cryptic reply.
“I need to go find him,”
“No. You need to eat and to bathe.” Dotty stood and set her work on the chair. “I’ll fix you some lunch. Shower is that way.” She pointed toward the door.
“Thank you, Mrs. Tehauno, for your kindness.”
Dotty harrumphed and then disappeared down the hall, muttering that she hoped her son had some food in the house.
Meadow showered, working out the kinks and examining the bruises she’d gotten during their escape from the mental hospital.
The water poured down on Meadow’s body as she added shampoo to her hair.
Two more people dead and her mother was responsible for it all. No, not her mother. Her father’s wife. That meant the siblings who had always looked just a little different than she did shared a father.
So who was her mother? Meadow rinsed the shampoo away. She didn’t know who her mother was or what had happened to her, but she intended to find out.
Dylan had told Meadow about his friend Jack. He had suspected most of his life that his father was not the same as his brothers. Why hadn’t Meadow ever suspected? Why had she spent most of her life trying to get the only woman she ever knew as her mother to notice her?
To love her.
Meadow let the water wash away her tears along with the soap. Lupe hated her because she was the visible reminder of her husband’s love for another woman. An infidelity. A betrayal.
Meadow turned off the taps and reached for a towel. She borrowed Dylan’s deodorant and brush, then used the toothbrush he had given her during the first time she’d been here. When she returned to Dylan’s spare room it was to find her bed made and a clean set of clothing placed on the blanket.
