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

by Jenna Kernan

  She couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “Sophia?” He reached out to her, his big hand falling over her tightly laced ones. “It’s okay. It will be okay.”

  The warmth and the way he leaned in as he dropped his voice was her undoing. She let out a stuttering sob and pulled her hands from beneath his in order to cover her face. Tears spilled and the sobs got worse. Right here on the squad floor, she realized, she was going to release those tears she had kept inside since that night.

  Jack rolled his chair to her so his legs straddled hers and he drew her forward. She nestled against his chest, clutching the soft fabric of his button-up shirt and holding it before her. His hands rubbed up and down her back. The man was really good at this. Was that why she’d finally let go—because she knew he’d be there to catch her?

  “I’m s-sorry,” she stammered. Her fingers were wet and his shirt damp.

  “Don’t be. You’re under a lot of pressure. Best to let it out.”

  She released him to wipe her eyes and his hands continued to rub in long strokes down her back. She turned her head so that her cheek pressed to his chest. He lowered his chin, cradling her.

  “I got you, Sophia. You’re not alone.”

  She managed a nod and another sniff escaped her, but the sobs had ceased, rubbed away by his strong, gentle hands.

  Sophia straightened and he rolled back in his chair, reestablishing their personal space and leaving her with a disturbing desire not to let him go. Silly. He was comforting her. Anyone would do the same. But anyone would not have left her feeling breathless and dizzy with an entirely new kind of unwelcome emotion. She wasn’t sorry she kissed him last night except that now that she had done so, she wanted to kiss him again.

  “You all right?” he asked, his gaze now cautious.

  Oh, yeah, he could read her. She met his inquiring gaze and his brows lifted as he sat back.

  “Well, here we are again,” he said. “Just like last night.”

  “Except we are in your squad room.”

  “True.”

  “And my office is sending transport. I’m leaving tomorrow at oh-eight-hundred.”

  “That just adds a time clock.”

  “No, it makes it impossible. I don’t play where I work.”

  “A consult. You don’t work here,” he reminded her. “We aren’t colleagues.”

  “What are we then?”

  “Real question is what could we be. I’d like to find out.”

  She glanced around and found the small room blissfully empty and the chief’s office door closed. One of the advantages of a small squad room.

  “I forgot to tell them I drew my weapon.” She pressed a hand to her forehead.

  “You okay?” asked Jack. “You’re going pale again.”

  “I forgot to tell my supervisor I assisted in making an arrest and that I drew my weapon.”

  He sat back, testing the mechanics of the chair, which creaked in protest.

  “Really? That’s your big worry?”

  “I’m on...”

  “Administrative leave,” he said, finishing her sentence “Yeah. Got it. But someone tried to kill you. That’s not your top priority?”

  That was messed up, she realized.

  “Yeah. I know.” But they could have been shooting at Jack and either way, they had missed and that was not going to go on the report that would be considered in the ongoing investigation.

  “Excuse me.” She lifted her phone and found the battery in the red because she hadn’t charged it.

  “You can use mine. I have to talk to Tinnin.”

  He left her and she made the call to Captain Larry Burton.

  “Are you in a secure location?” asked her captain.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Great.”

  The conversation did not go well from there, but the gist of it was that she was not to be consulting while on leave. Favor to a friend or not, her opinion as a federal officer entangled the Bureau.

  When she told him about the gaps in the security at the power station, he told her he’d handle it, have the state highway patrol increase their presence.

  Burton tried to get her off the phone before she managed to tell him about the shooting, but she got it in. She had his full attention, judging from the silence on the other end of the call.

  She told him about the collar and her role in covering the passenger and that the suspect seemed to have mentioned her to someone during his one phone call.

  Then she made a mistake, telling her captain that Martin Nequam had gang ties.

  “And how do you know that?” asked her captain.

  Sophia stopped talking.

  “You were warned not to do any background on the deceased.”

  “Technically, I didn’t do it.”

  “You’re blowing it, Rivas. You know that your fishing trip could influence the outcome of your investigation. I thought getting away for a few days would be good for you.”

  “Captain—”

  “Stop. Just stop. Your little side gig or whatever this was, it’s over. I’m pulling the plug. You stay put and out of trouble until we get you home in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll be in touch.” He hung up before she could give him the number at the station.

  Jack emerged from the chief’s office, rubbing his neck and looking equally glum.

  “We’re taking you to the compound.”

  “There’s no phone service out there.”

  “I have a radio.”

  “I need to charge my phone.”

  “You have a charger?” he asked.

  “In my car.” Which was back at the compound. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  They reached the parking lot when the food delivery arrived. Jack would not let her pay for her lunch. They took the food along in his unmarked, white F-150 pickup and were followed by Chief Tinnin. They had no further trouble en route.

  Kenshaw Little Falcon greeted them at the compound, walking out to stand beside the truck and speaking to Jack the instant he opened the door.

  “First I must deliver a message from your mother,” said Kenshaw.

  “What’s wrong?”

  This was the second message from his mother, and she believed that he had not returned her call.

  “She said that she is coming here to see you. She can tell you why when she arrives, but you should stay until she speaks to you.”

  “I have to help with the investigation. The shooting. And she shouldn’t come here. It could be dangerous.”

  “Too late. She’s coming and she doesn’t carry a phone. So just stay awhile. Ray and Dylan called me. They found the shooter’s position and shell casings. He was driving a pickup, which tells us very little.”

  Sophia slid down from the high bucket seat to the grass.

  Jack grabbed their lunch from behind his seat and then walked with Little Falcon toward the lodge. She followed, glancing toward her car and wishing she could get her phone charged, but not wanting to miss what else Kenshaw might say.

  Jack passed Sophia her lunch and then filled in his shaman on their two encounters and turned it over to her for a recap of the visit to the dam and power station. She shared her observations and did not hold back any of her concerns as Jack munched his sandwich. She’d be gone tomorrow morning and this tribe needed all the information they could get. Some small part of her wished she could stay, not just because Jack Bear Den made her entire body flash on and off like a Christmas light, but because she was coming to agree that they had reason for concern.

  She took the seat on the porch beside Kenshaw, who faced the river. Jack preferred to lean against the porch rail in front of her, causing a visceral distraction that interfered with her ability to think and speak. The man was one giant temptation.

  Perhaps her imminent departure was a blessing. One more night with him in the adjoining cabin was going to be tough. Well, it was out of her hands. Her field office was yanking her
out of here and she’d be lucky not to receive a reprimand.

  No good deed goes unpunished, she thought, and snorted at the truth of that.

  Kenshaw listened as she finished up her description of the security concerns and fell silent.

  “I do not know what you have been told about me,” said the shaman. “But I would tell you some things that I do not think are in my files.”

  She’d read those files, of course, at least all that she’d had access to.

  “I worked with a man named Cheney for a long time, since we were young men.”

  Her mind provided intel on Cheney. Cheney Williams, deceased. Killed in the explosion that triggered the ridge fire. Known member of BEAR and Theron Wrangler’s second in command. Death ruled accidental.

  “He was my friend and my contact in BEAR, but not my only one. That is why I am so concerned. My cell has been activated with the others, but I only know the target of my cell. Still, I was aware of various potential targets.”

  “Did you share this with my department?”

  “The one in Phoenix. I worked as an informant with that field office. And I will tell you what I told them. Each cell will attack their target as soon as feasible after the death or departure of Lupe Wrangler. She has left the country. That is the signal.”

  “And you believe the reservoirs are a potential target.”

  “I know it. But since it is not the target of my cell, I do not know how or when.”

  “Isn’t the purpose of a cell to keep their mission secret from the others?”

  “It is to insulate itself and work independently. But Cheney Williams knew each cell’s mission. He was to pass that information to Dylan, but Cheney was killed on the ridge in an explosion. You know where those explosives came from?”

  She did. The theft at the Lilac copper mine.

  “What is the target of your cell?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

  “Pipelines in Phoenix.”

  She sat up straight. “Does my office know that?”

  “Of course. But not where and when. I have not been activated and so I have no more information.”

  He turned to her and held her gaze with eyes that reflected great sadness. “We were trying to save the earth. When the organization became radicalized, I had my doubts and reached out to the FBI. I hoped they could stop BEAR.”

  “I’m sure they will.” She needed to get to a phone.

  “I do not share your confidence. A small dedicated group prepared to die can accomplish great and terrible things.”

  That, she knew, was true.

  “Which is why we need you to protect us and help us set those charges on our canyon as a fail-safe in the event BEAR succeeds in destroying that dam.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “You are our last hope.”

  Chapter Ten

  “I can’t blow up a public waterway, no matter what the reason.” Sophia gripped the arms of the pine rocker angled beside a similar one holding the tribe’s shaman. “You asked me here to give an opinion. Your best course is to have your leadership voice their concerns to state and federal authorities.”

  Jack chuckled and she glanced at him. He stood casually, leaning against the porch rail with his thumbs hitched on either side of his belt buckle.

  “That hasn’t gone so well in the past, historically, I mean.”

  The number of egregious breaks in federal contracts to Native people was a debate for another time. She wasn’t here to defend the US government. But she was trying to be part of the change she wanted in the world.

  “I can’t do it,” she said.

  “We understand. And we are sorry for the trouble you have had here,” said Kenshaw. “I am embarrassed and concerned that a guest would be attacked on our land.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kenshaw gazed toward the gently flowing river, which was carefully controlled by the outlet of the powerhouse and dam just northeast of their land. She watched the water, trying not to think of the millions of gallons contained by concrete and steel. What would happen to his people if the dam was destroyed.

  “Perhaps moving your population would not be a bad idea,” she said. “Just temporarily.”

  Jack’s radio crackled and the police officer stationed at the top of the road reported the arrival of Jack’s family.

  “Family?” he asked, straightening.

  Kenshaw turned to Sophia. “Jack has his parents and three brothers. Kurt works in Darabee. Thomas is with ICE on the border, a Shadow Wolf hunting drug traffickers. And Jack’s twin, the oldest, Carter, is with his wife.”

  “With the Department of Justice.” She knew that, of course, and knew that the trial for the men who had tried to kill his wife was now underway.

  Jack was already off the porch and standing by the twin ruts that served as a road.

  “We believed Carter and his wife, Amber, would need relocation. But the man she was testifying against is dead.”

  “I understood the trial was moving forward.”

  “Not those men. I mean Theron Wrangler.”

  Now that she did not know and she was instantly curious as to what information these witnesses might have.

  Kenshaw watched her with intent eyes and a knowing smile.

  “Amber Bear Den, Carter’s wife, is the only link between the Lilac mine massacre and Theron Wrangler. It was why BEAR tried so hard to kill her.”

  “And she’s no longer in danger?”

  “The information is useless now. She has nothing on Lupe, Theron’s wife.”

  She’d heard the theories that Lupe ran BEAR. It was her department’s belief that Theron was the leader and not a front. But now she began to wonder.

  “She was careful,” said Kenshaw. “I will give Lupe that.”

  Sophia could hear the roar of a truck engine now and the creaking of old struts. Jack lifted his gaze toward the vehicle she could not see.

  “Carter has a wife and Jack has been missing his brother. Jack has friends and Kurt, but he has still seemed to be very lonely, to me.”

  “Jack, he’s not...attached?”

  Kenshaw smiled as he continued to watch the river and she continued to wish she could go back in time and not ask her last question.

  “Jack feels unattached. His appearance has been a great burden to him.”

  “Because he’s so big?” She liked that.

  “Because he is so different. Anyone with eyes can see, but it is always his women who ask. They make him face what he would ignore. He cannot stand that and so he is alone.”

  Note to self, she thought—don’t ask him why he looks different than his brothers.

  “Well, that’s too bad,” she said.

  “Yes. But he needs to face his differences to accept himself as we have all accepted him.”

  Get him to accept himself but don’t mention the differences. Check. How did she do that?

  “Could I borrow your phone?” she asked.

  Kenshaw passed her a small black older-model phone. She called her department in Flagstaff and relayed what Kenshaw had told her about the pipeline. They took down the information. Then she called Luke to be sure his field office was aware. They were.

  “And I don’t appreciate that you ditched me up here,” she said.

  “Mountain air will help you sleep and having problems bigger than your own is good for you,” said her cousin.

  “They sure are bigger.”

  “Call if you need me,” said Luke and the line went dead.

  A problem bigger than herself. Sophia’s gaze lifted to the road and landed on Jack Bear Den.

  *

  JACK STOOD IN the road, facing the approaching vehicle. He couldn’t see it yet. But he could hear it, caught the sound of an engine and a radio playing classic rock.

  A familiar truck rolled into view. He knew his father’s vehicle on sight. The older model Ram had four doors and both front and rear seats. Judging from the sag in the suspension, that
rear seat was full. Jack recognized his father, Delane, driving and his mother, Annetta, in the passenger seat. Between them he could see Kurt. But as they drew closer he realized that he was not looking at the face of his youngest sibling, but the thin face of Carter.

  Jack broke into a run, charging the truck like a bull. His father hit the brakes and his mother managed to slide out of the seat before Jack reached into the truck and hauled Carter Bear Den to him and squeezed.

  “They didn’t tell me!” he said, hugging his twin and feeling the changes. Carter had lost weight.

  “Easy, bro. You’re crushing me.”

  Jack eased his grip and drew back to stare at the familiar face he had so missed.

  “You back?” he asked.

  Carter nodded and wiped the tears from his cheeks. Jack swallowed at the lump in his throat.

  “I missed you, brother,” said Carter.

  Jack glanced away to keep from blubbering and met his mother’s tear-streaked face. It was his undoing. He couldn’t seem to get enough air.

  “We wanted to surprise you,” she said, her voice quavering like a bird’s. “They just got back.”

  From the smaller rear door emerged Amber and Kurt. Amber stepped forward and he gave her a kiss, careful not to crush her as he had his brother. She also looked drawn, with circles under her eyes. The ordeal of witness protection and the trial had taken an obvious toll.

  Kurt slapped Jack on the shoulder. “Surprised?”

  Jack grinned and glanced back at the porch, where both Kenshaw and Sophia watched the reunion. Kenshaw knew, of course. But Sophia did not. She beamed at him, clearly pleased at his joy and his heart squeezed a little tighter.

  He motioned her to join them. Her smile vanished and she shook her head. He motioned again. She set her jaw, but descended from the porch.

  Jack made introductions and Carter and Amber politely shook her hand, but it was clear they had both had enough of FBI and DOJ officers. Kenshaw called them all into the lodge.

  “Casseroles,” he said. “I sent out a call and have them in the oven.”

  They all gathered in the lodge at the circular table and Jack was astonished at how much Carter and Amber ate.

  “Didn’t they feed you out there?” asked his mother.