The Warrior's Way (Apache Protectors: Tribal Thunder)

by Jenna Kernan

  “Well, we don’t need it. It’s bright enough.”

  She just kept walking until she reached the front porch facing the river. All the cabins faced the river so he understood why she had picked the wrong one. Close, just one off, but this was his cabin for as long as she stayed with them.

  “Um,” he said. Should he tell her or let her figure it out on her own?

  She rounded on him. “You had no right to take an offhanded comment and present it to everyone as if I had suggested blowing up your reservation as a viable option.”

  “Seemed like a plan.”

  “It’s a disaster. It will ruin the canyon and it will boomerang back to me. Your little stunt in there could cost me my job.”

  She worried about protecting her career while he worried about safeguarding the lives of everyone here.

  “It wasn’t a stunt, Sophia. I’m trying to save my people.”

  “That’s our job—the FBI’s. And we can do our work more efficiently without a bunch of lunatics performing a ghost dance and then blowing themselves to smithereens.”

  The ghost dances had been used in a vain attempt to remove the scourge of white men from the west by the Sioux people, who followed the great spiritual leader the Anglos called Crazy Horse. His real name was which literally meant “His Horse is Crazy.” But Jack understood the reference. Their shaman called for all the people to come and pray and dance tonight. Like Crazy Horse, Kenshaw Little Falcon believed in the old ways. But he also honored the new. In other words, pray but also act. Her comparing his tribe’s gathering to the ghost dance was both insult and honor.

  “How about you wait until tomorrow to see what you think of the job the authorities are doing?”

  She stiffened and placed a hand on the latch.

  Behind them the string of headlights marked the arrival of the tribe, as they wound along the river road like a great, brilliant snake.

  On the great open area between the main lodge and the cabins, the central fire was being lit.

  “Are you sure you won’t come?” Jack motioned to the gathering place. “I’d love to watch you dance.”

  “I haven’t danced for a long time.” She sounded wistful.

  Dancing was a form of prayer for their people, a way to communicate to the great divine while still connecting to the earth.

  “You could just sit on your porch and watch. Then come join us if you like,” he said.

  “Maybe.” She pulled the latch and the door cracked open. She regarded him now, really looking up at him.

  He went still under her inspection, hoping that she liked what she saw. His nostrils flared as he tried to bring enough air to sustain him, but each breath brought her delicate floral scent to him. He breathed it in, making it a part of him. He swallowed but his throat was still dry. He was looking at her mouth now, thinking what it might be like to kiss her slowly at first and then...

  “I’d better go,” she said.

  “Sophia?”

  She stepped closer. Oh, boy. He was about to tell her that she was at the wrong door, but maybe it was no mistake. Maybe she knew exactly which cabin this was. That thought made his wiring short-circuit. His blood rushed and his breathing quickened as the desire drowned the rational part of his mind.

  “Yes?” She brushed the tips of her fingers down the center of his chest.

  “This isn’t your cabin.”

  She stepped back. Damn, he should have kissed her first and then told her. But then he might not have wanted to tell her. Not when his bed was only a few short steps away.

  He wanted her in that bed more than he had wanted anything in a long time.

  Car doors slammed and headlights swung into the field they used for parking. Voices reached them as the people began to gather.

  Sophia looked around her. “Which one is mine?”

  Jack pointed and watched her go. He didn’t follow. Not just because he was needed in the drum circle, but because they needed Sophia’s help. Kissing her, sleeping with her, might make it easier to convince her. But it also would lead to the bloody same questions women always asked.

  Why don’t you look like your brothers? Why are you so big? Have you ever thought about speaking to your parents?

  Jack let his hand trail over his wallet. Inside were the answers. But he just couldn’t bear confirmation that his mother had deceived his father and he was the visible sign of that infidelity. Everyone suspected. No one spoke about it. Except the women he dated. That seemed to make them feel they had some right to turn him inside out. It didn’t. Never had. Never would.

  Chapter Five

  Sophia stood on the porch of the little cabin and listened. The men sat in a circle around a huge drum, each with a leather-tipped drumstick, collectively beating the rhythm for the dance. She could see them all by firelight and recognized many; Ray sat next to Dylan, who was beside Kurt Bear Den. Then came three men she could not see because their backs were toward her. Adjacent to them, Jack Bear Den sat in profile. He was a full head taller than any of the others and that was while he was sitting down. His appearance raised all sorts of obvious questions. The investigator in her wanted answers. But the part of her that kept her own secrets did not.

  Much of her childhood had been horrific and blocking it out just made sense. No different than blocking someone on social media. Except those drums. They brought back something she hadn’t remembered, the good part. Belonging to something bigger than herself. Walling herself off, avoiding going home, it was logical but now she felt a longing that made her weep.

  So here she stood, leaning against the porch rail and watching the Turquoise Canyon tribe dance in unison around the central fire. Her head bobbed in time and her feet shuffled from side to side. She knew this dance, knew the meaning and the purpose.

  There in the light of the fire went Morgan Hooke and beside her was the Anglo Meadow Wrangler. She did not seem to care that she was an outsider, as she matched her steps perfectly to the others. Sophia studied Meadow and how the other women reacted to her. From Sophia’s perspective, it seemed that this tribe accepted the heiress despite her outlandish ocean-blue hair and relations with the known head of BEAR. Sophia longed to join them but something kept her rooted to the porch. If she were similarly welcomed, it would be harder to leave.

  She wiped away the dampness on her cheeks and straightened. It didn’t matter. She didn’t need to move in slow harmony around the fire or sing the songs to earth and sky. But a prayer might help the outcome of the internal investigation. A song sung with so many voices was a powerful thing. Was it strong enough to give her back what was taken...her badge, her gun, her position?

  She needed them. Needed to be away from here and back where she belonged. On the job.

  Sophia sang softly to herself. The song was a prayer, her tiny voice mingling with the people. Their languages were different. She hoped it wouldn’t matter as she returned to the language of her youth, her terrible wonderful youth beside the high black-capped mountain. She sang the next song as well and was still there when the logs fell inward and the drums went silent. Still there clinging to the porch rail when the gathering broke and the engines of the cars and trucks started. She watched the vehicles cruise away. Saw Jack Bear Den lift the drum as big as a truck tire and carry it single-handed into the lodge.

  She retreated to the shadows as his friends made their way to their cabins. Ray chased his new wife past her door as Morgan giggled like a girl.

  Next came Dylan and Meadow, strolling arm in arm, their heads inclined so they touched. They paused at the river and shared a long kiss that was so full of love and desire that Sophia had to look away. She turned toward the lodge and saw Jack Bear Den standing before the steps leading to the cabin beside hers. His eyes were pinned on her. The shroud of darkness wasn’t cover enough to keep him from locating her.

  “You didn’t come,” Jack said. His voice was low and only for her. Had he been watching for her? That thought made her tingle all over.
>
  She glanced over at Dylan and Meadow and was surprised when Meadow kissed Dylan good-night and then retreated alone through the doorway. Sophia blinked in confusion as what she knew of Meadow’s wild reputation for men and parties clashed with the chaste kiss. Dylan walked alone to the next lodge and vanished inside.

  “They don’t?” Sophia asked.

  Jack shook his head. “Nope.”

  “But why? They are clearly in love.”

  “Because to marry her is to give Meadow federal protection from the local wants and warrants regarding the wildfire. Meadow won’t have the people thinking she married Dylan for that reason. Someday, she will marry him. When the matter is settled.”

  “That could be years.” Sophia looked at the dark lodge. Beyond the window Sophia thought that Meadow must be preparing to sleep in her empty bed. “It could be never.”

  “Her choice,” said Jack. “And a difficult one. But one that has earned her much respect here.”

  Sophia returned her gaze to Jack, taking in the readiness of his stance and the way he was now angled away from his cabin and toward hers.

  “I was hoping you would join us,” he said.

  “I did not want to intrude.”

  “We want you here, Sophia. Everyone. And they want to meet you.”

  “I won’t be here that long.”

  He nodded. “More reason.”

  “You want to sit awhile?” He motioned to the bench beneath the single window on his porch.

  Sophia knew with certainty what would happen if she crossed the distance between them. It wouldn’t be sitting.

  “Detective Bear Den, I want you to know that I’m not in a relationship at present.”

  His brows lifted at this change of direction.

  “By choice. I like men, I just don’t like them encroaching, you know, on my space. I need privacy.”

  “I wouldn’t think I’d be encroaching for long. Like you said, you’re leaving.”

  “Yes.”

  “Just as well. I need my space, too.”

  She was so tempted to walk right over to him and lace her hands behind his neck and kiss him with everything she had. That’s what she wanted. But it wasn’t wise.

  “I’m not getting mixed up with you,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

  He walked to her porch, placing one large foot on the bottom step as he gripped the rail and broke into her personal space.

  “If you say so.”

  She backed toward her door.

  “If you change your mind on the encroachment thing, you know where to find me.”

  Men were like that, just like stray cats. But they didn’t stay. Not for long, and a woman who was wise knew to take care of herself. Relying on a man was a lot like working with explosives. You kept clear if you could and if you couldn’t you wore protective gear.

  “Good night, Detective.”

  “Good night, Agent Rivas.” He followed her with his eyes. “Did you hear me singing to you?”

  She had—his voice was low and deep and distinctive. He’d sung one full song alone. It had made her insides ache.

  “Was that for me?”

  “Couldn’t you tell?”

  Sophia stopped backing away and took one step toward him. He was up the steps in an instant.

  “I just want to kiss you good night,” he said.

  “One kiss.”

  His arms went around her and she felt the restrained strength as he leaned her back. She angled her head so their mouths met. The touch of his mouth was firm and enticing, the contact quaking through her like a shock wave. That had never happened before. If she was smart she’d pull back. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

  Jack moved toward the door, opening it with one hand as he swept them in a slow circle until they stood inside. The kiss that he’d planned had gone quickly off the rails. Sophia’s response had left no doubt that she felt the burning want with the same fierce intensity as he did. But as soon as they were inside, she pushed back. He resisted the silent request for release for just a moment and then let her go.

  He held back the curse and only just kept from reaching out to reel her back in. It couldn’t end like that, half-finished with both of them panting and unfulfilled.

  “Sophia, there’s no reason not to. You and I aren’t colleagues. You’re here as a favor to a friend.”

  “I’m still a federal agent on leave awaiting an investigation.”

  “This, what is between us, has nothing to do with that. It won’t impact the investigation in any way. You’re hurting and worried. Let me comfort you, help you forget all that.”

  “I don’t sleep with men I’ve only just met.”

  He nodded. “You just kiss them silly.”

  “You kissed me. I did say one.”

  That was a qualified no. Perhaps she needed to know more about him before trusting him. He could do that. She wasn’t staying and he was trustworthy, as long as she didn’t start up with the same hard questions they all asked.

  She had not yet asked. Surprising for an investigator.

  “So what is it you want, Sophia?”

  “I want to see the reservoirs and get back to Flagstaff, back to my job and my home and my life.”

  “But you felt it, too, Sophia. I know that was no ordinary kiss.”

  “We’ll talk about it in the morning,” she said.

  “Talk. Sure. We can talk.” Not happening, he thought. “Breakfast in the lodge in the morning. Coffeepot in there if you are up before seven. Good night, Sophia.” He didn’t turn until he reached the porch. If she was still in there or if she closed the door then he’d know she wanted no more from him. But if she followed him...

  He turned at the edge of the porch. She was in the doorway, one hand on the latch and one on the frame. Sophia wanted him. She just didn’t want to make a mistake. Jack smiled. She wouldn’t be here long, but time was still with him.

  “See you in the morning.”

  He could feel her watching him. He paused before his door, facing her across the distance that separated them.

  “You know where to find me.” Jack stepped inside and closed the door, leaving the bolt open. She wasn’t going to follow him. But she was going to think long and hard about what would have happened if she had.

  Chapter Six

  Of course, Sophia couldn’t sleep. The minute she set her head on the unfamiliar pillow, the worrying started. She went over her initial interview in her head and then her formal statement. The special agent in charge had looked at her so strangely when she had declined to call a family member the day of the incident. What was so odd about that? Lots of people had no family. Only she did have some. Her mother and sisters and brothers, some of whom she did not remember or had never met. Five days mandatory leave. Two weeks until the investigation had to be completed. Eight days before a ruling. Everyone said she shouldn’t worry. They’d rule she’d been justified. But if they didn’t she’d be referred for a disciplinary review.

  She could smell the wood smoke though the open window. She glanced out at the side of the adjoining cabin and the open window. Jack’s window.

  Now she couldn’t sleep because she was thinking about that kiss and his big warm body just next door.

  Sophia rolled to her side, giving the window her back. If only she could just lie next to him and tell him everything. That would make her feel better, wouldn’t it?

  Thinking about it sure didn’t help. She sat up. If she walked over and then just asked to talk...

  Sophia thumped back on the mattress. If she crossed his threshold, it wouldn’t be for pillow talk. It would be for the kind of comfort a man gave a woman. Her body hummed, preparing for him even as she kicked at the covers and pounded the pillow.

  Tomorrow they would see the reservoirs.

  The flute music intruded into her thoughts. It was so low that at first she thought it was in her mind. But then she knew that it came from the cabin beside
hers. Jack Bear Den—that giant of a man—was playing his flute for her. And just as in the old legends the music made her heart beat faster and her eyes grow misty. Was he wooing her or was this what he did before sleeping?

  He was awake. She rolled to her side and propped her head on her hand to listen. She didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the music was so sweet, each note a reflection of his breath. She breathed with him and soon slipped into slumber.

  She woke to a birdsong and blinked her eyes open, disbelieving that she had slept the entire night. She hadn’t woken once. That had not happened since the incident.

  Sophia sat up and glanced toward the open window, smiling. He’d given her comfort without touching her or intruding or asking for a thing.

  It did not take long to wash up since there was no shower, just a sink. She dressed in a different blouse, but the same trousers, donning her shoulder holster and then her blazer. Outside the sun blazed, streaking across the floor of the single room and heating the cabin.

  A new fragrance wafted through the open window—coffee and bacon. She took a moment to fix her long hair in a knot at her nape. She had packed limited cosmetics, but did apply a tinted gloss to her lips and used the liner and mascara before slipping into her shoes and heading out.

  Kenshaw Little Falcon sat on the porch and was the first to greet her, first in Tonto Apache and then in English, inquiring as to how she slept.

  She was cautious of him because Luke had told her of the shaman’s involvement in BEAR. He was a federal informant, but also possibly an ecoextremist with a long history of activism.

  “I slept well, thank you,” she replied.

  “It’s the river. The sound of the water is very soothing.”

  The river. Sophia pressed her smile into a tight line as she continued into the lodge to find three men crowded in the kitchen. There was Ray, Dylan and Jack.