by Jenna Kernan
Out there. It was how the people referred to anywhere that was not right here, on their land.
Sophia sat between his father and Kenshaw and seemed to Jack to be trying to disappear. He did not have to be the most perceptive of men to realize she was genuinely uncomfortable surrounded by his family.
Tommy arrived in time for dessert, adding to the gaiety and the volume of conversation as they each talked over each other in a rush to catch up on the missing months.
In the evening they lit a fire outside and brought out the large drum. Kenshaw and his father set the rhythm, with all three of this brothers and him keeping pace. Jack thought they’d never sounded so good as they sang. Sparks from the fire rose into the clear dry air and lifted skyward to the glittering stars.
Amber and his mother and Sophia clapped to the rhythm. They broke their song only to greet Ray, Morgan and Lisa, who’d arrived. Amber noticed immediately that Morgan was expecting and offered congratulations. The two old friends linked arms and were just heading toward the drum circle when Dylan and Meadow arrived.
Then the circle formed again and Jack thought of his medicine wheel talisman and the circle of friends and family that formed this living sacred hoop.
The men drummed and the women sang, Meadow keeping the general melody, though not knowing the language, her attempts to sing made everyone laugh. The party broke up very late. Carter and Jack walked toward the river. Jack knew in his head he would see Carter in the morning, but it was hard to let go after missing him for so long and so very much.
“It’s been tough without you here, brother.”
“I missed the ridge fire,” said Carter. “Heard Ray stepped in. Always figured it would be Dylan as captain.”
He was talking about the historic Pine View wildfire. Of course, as a Hotshot, it would have killed Carter not to be able to deploy with his crew. The Turquoise Canyon Hotshots were among the most elite crews in the country.
“He couldn’t. Dylan was caught in it with Meadow. Had to deploy his fire shelter over both of them.”
Carter’s eyes widened. “No.”
“He can tell you all about it. Love to, I’m sure.”
“I’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” said his brother.
Jack tried to imagine missing all that had happened since his brother had followed his wife into witness protection in February. Eight months.
“How did things go with the test results? Did you get your answers?”
Jack looked away.
“Jack?”
“Never opened them,” he admitted. Though he’d carried them in his wallet every day since they’d arrived in March.
Carter placed a hand on his shoulder. “Want me to do it?”
“No.” He faced his twin. “I’ll do it. Now that you’re home. I will.”
Headlights rolled across them as his father pulled the truck around.
Carter stared back across the darkness, hearing Ray and Dylan bid each other good-night as they made for their cabins with Amber and Meadow.
“You want me to stay? Help keep an eye on Sophia?”
Jack took one look at his brother and made the call. “We got it. You go home with your wife.”
“She’s pretty,” said Carter.
“Who?”
“Don’t give me that. You couldn’t take your eyes off her when she was singing.”
“That’s because she doesn’t speak our language.”
“Western Apache. Yeah. They’re different. Not as different as Dylan and Meadow. Boy is that a mismatch. Can’t even believe Dylan is going to marry her. He’s always been so traditional.”
“The heart leads where it leads,” said Jack, quoting their mother.
“Right. Well, good night.”
“’Night. Glad to have you back, brother.”
“Likewise.”
Jack watched him walk away, knowing his mother would be making fry bread in the morning and Carter would begin gaining back the weight he had lost. Still smiling, he wandered back to the porch to wave his family off.
Kenshaw turned in, leaving Sophia and Jack standing alone by the road.
“You have a lovely family,” said Sophia. Her voice held an undertone of something, a kind of stiffness that resonated inside him. What was wrong?
“Yeah. You know, my mom looks so happy. She’ll probably put this in the classifieds, too.”
“The classifieds?”
“Yeah. It’s silly, but she makes announcements there. Stuff like ‘Carter and Jack are back from overseas. Welcome home, boys!’ She always posts one for birthdays and when something big happens.”
“Might not be a great idea to say her eldest son is back from witness protection,” said Sophia.
“You got that right.
“Do you have siblings?” asked Jack.
“Yes, lots. But we weren’t raised together.”
His brows lifted, and he wished that just once he had not been right.
“No?” he said, half hoping she’d keep her problems to herself, the other half recognizing that she was about to share something personal.
“Fostered. All of us. I was number eight. They broke us up when my father went to prison. It’s a common story.”
All too common.
“Mom?”
“She’s around. Can’t really take care of herself, let alone her kids. Doesn’t stop her from having them, though. I stayed with my granny until she passed. She raised me.”
“That’s tough, Sophia.” And made her current position with the FBI even more impressive. The odds had definitely been stacked against her.
“All I ever wanted was to get off the rez. When I was a kid I wanted clean clothes. Once I got to foster care, I wanted a room that was mine.”
“And you have that now.”
She nodded, meeting his gaze with sad eyes. Was she thinking of losing all she had gained? She would if she did as his tribe wished. How could he ask her to risk losing everything she had achieved? Jack glanced over his shoulder to the river and knew the answer. If they didn’t do something, all he knew would be washed away.
“Let me walk you back to your cabin.”
They strolled across the grass, neither in any hurry to arrive.
“I’m sorry to put you in this position, Sophia.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be. I’ve given you my suggestions. Tomorrow my escort will be here and I’ll be back home. But, Jack, you should move your people. Send them up to my reservation. They’d take them in.”
“My tribe fought long and hard to establish a reservation of our own. We are not leaving it.”
They passed the fire pit as the drenched embers smoldered and smoking logs shifted. The members of the Turquoise Canyon Hotshots knew better than to leave a fire unattended and had carefully doused the flames and scattered the fuel inside the stone fire pit.
Sophia and Jack continued on, pausing on the porch of her cabin.
It was their last night together. Jack gazed down at Sophia.
“They’re coming for you in a few hours,” he said, the clock ticking louder now.
“Oh-eight-hundred hours, yes. I won’t have time to check the uppermost dam.”
“Sophia, I’d like to kiss you again.” He’d like to do more than kiss her if she’d let him. He wanted to know her as a man knows a woman and keep some part of her here in his heart.
“Will you come in?” she asked, opening the door.
Chapter Eleven
“I’d like that very much,” said Jack in answer to Sophia’s invitation.
She moved aside and Jack stepped past her into the darkness. His eyes adjusted slowly, the light from the windows casting blue starlight across the floor. Each cabin was identical within, with a table and chairs, sitting chair and a full-size bed centered on the back wall next to a bedside table. He waited for her to close the door and throw the latch, then gathered her in his arms.
He leaned in to inhale the sweetness of her neck, but she d
rew back, making him pause.
“You understand that I’m leaving tomorrow?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“This won’t change anything.”
It would change everything, he knew. But he murmured, “Yes,” as his lips brushed her neck.
She trembled as he trailed kisses down the column of her throat and into the vee left by her prim, professional blouse. She worked the buttons, releasing them until the garment flapped open. He breathed in her sweet scent.
“Lavender,” he whispered against the swell of her breasts.
She backed away, gripping his shirt in both fists as she led him across the room to the bed. Halfway there she released him to slip out of her shoes and drop her blazer, then unfastened the clip that held her shoulder holster. She lay the weapon on the bedside table. He placed his beside it with his wallet and radio. His fingers trembled as he groped for the square packet in his wallet, causing the letter to fall to the floor. She stooped and retrieved it as he found the condom. She set the folded envelope on the table beside the weapons and shucked out of her slacks. He watched her shrug out of the blouse, which fluttered to the floor, leaving her in only her white lace bra and matching panties. Her skin glowed blue in the starlight. She was all soft curves and smooth skin. He was all coarse hair and muscle, by comparison.
He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, hoping she would not have second thoughts when she saw him shirtless. He didn’t often remove his shirt because it emphasized the dissimilarity between him and other men here. His body type was so different and his chest was covered with thick curling hair. He dropped his shirt and waited.
Sophia’s gaze raked over him. Finally she lifted her eyes to meet his. He did not see revulsion or fear, but hunger. He released a breath. She reached for his jeans and let her unzip them before he sat to tug off his boots and then his jeans.
She moved to stand between his legs, her thighs brushing his. Jack lifted his hands and rested them lightly at her waist.
“I’m not too big?” he asked, voicing aloud the fear he carried with him like his skin.
“Not for me.” Her fingers raked down his chest, scraping through the chest hair and over his muscles. “You look more like a lumberjack than a guy riding in a police unit all day.”
“Sometimes I ride a horse,” he said. “A lot of our rez is easier to get to that way.”
She moved closer, allowing him to brush his hands up the long muscles of her back. He lifted her and spun her to the bed, easing her down beside him. He pushed the bra up and away. She lifted to let him drag it off. She shrugged out of her panties.
Jack remained on his side, giving himself the gift of seeing her completely naked and stretched out before him wearing nothing but a seductive smile. There was something dark on her breast—a tattoo? He thought it unlikely, but the possibility made him grow even harder. Sophia was full of surprises, including giving in to the heat and hunger roaring between them, if only for one night.
God, he hadn’t even had her and he wanted her again. But he waited for her to make the approach.
He looped a thumb under the tie holding her thick hair and dragged it free. Her hair fanned the pillow.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his fingers trailing over her shoulder and back up to her hair.
“So are you.”
She rolled to her side, facing him now, and inclined her head so that her cheek brushed the back of his hand.
“Not too big?” he asked again.
She chuckled. “I like big.”
The tension crackled between them as he waited and prayed she would reach out to him, his hand trailing down her arm and back to the blanket.
Sophia moved closer, dragged a hand down his naked chest, her fingernails making his nerves blast awake. He growled in pleasure, the sound vibrating through his chest.
“I have protection.” He reached back for the condom, already wishing he carried more than two.
“Me, too.”
She was cautious. That was smart. Her caution was probably why she’d made it out of foster care and avoided getting pregnant as a teen. He admired her for so many reasons. But right now the aching want was descending over his brain. He needed his skin pressed to hers, to feel her breath on his neck and her nails rake over his back.
He loomed over her and she looped her arms around his neck and pulled, sending a barrage of hot kisses down his neck and chest, trailing lower until she reached his waistband. His arms, usually so strong, began to tremble as her fingers slipped beneath his underwear. She released him, peeling back the fabric that separated them.
She tore open the condom package with her teeth, pushing him to his back. He complied, falling to the mattress and letting her slip the protective sheath over the length of him.
His stomach twitched and tightened as she kissed her way back up his body, finally finding his mouth. He cradled her head as he kissed her long and deep.
When she slipped a leg across him and straddled his hips, he watched them come together. She lowered herself and Jack closed his eyes to savor the bliss that carried them both late into the night.
They slept tangled in sheets and blankets. He felt her shivering in the heart of the night and dragged the blanket over her, tucking it up around her shoulders and then pulling her close to his chest, sharing his heat. She snuggled against him and he breathed a sigh at the perfect moment. The sense of calm and the ache of want mingled to form an unnameable desire that beat with each stroke of his heart. He closed his eyes to better sense each warm breath that flowed from her and across his chest. Jack cradled her head and kissed her forehead. Deep in sleep, Sophia muttered something that was an attempt as speech. He stroked her head, his fingers tangling in the satin of her hair, loose at last.
“Shhh,” he whispered.
She relaxed back to slumber. Jack tried to stay awake a few minutes more. But the satisfaction of their joining and the lethargy that followed was too much and he tumbled to sleep, still cradling her close.
This was special, his heart murmured. She was special.
He woke when she slipped from his arms before dawn. He grasped her hand to stay her.
“Be right back,” she promised and he let her go.
She would be. But Jack did not fool himself. Sophia would not stay with him for long. He’d been okay with that when she arrived. But things were changing and he wasn’t sure just what to do about that.
The bathroom door opened and closed, water ran and she was there beside him again. She slipped over him, one thigh gliding across his stomach until she lay on top of him like a second skin. Her body was warm and her muscles slack. He stroked her back, gently but with purpose, to rouse her from her sleepiness. Her breathing changed first, then she started to move, climbing up until her mouth met his. Her kiss and the rocking of her hips left no doubt that she wanted him again.
This time was slow and sweet. Their pleasure vibrated like a taut cord until they broke together in a hot rush of sensation.
Would he ever get enough of his spider woman? Not if he had a thousand years, he decided. He’d had women, but none was Sophia’s equal. She was poised and strong and experienced in the ways of the world, with enough sexual confidence to keep him guessing.
She was a survivor who had beaten the odds and made something of herself with very little help. His admiration only strengthened his desire.
They dozed and when he next woke the light was pink, giving everything a rosy glow. He scowled at the window and the light that peeked through, knowing they were coming for her today and that they would take her from him.
He wondered if she would agree to see him again, or if this was, to her, just a one-time affair.
She slipped from the bed and back across the room. He could see her scoop the white bra from the ground and slip it around her torso, fasten the clasps and spin the undergarment back into place. He understood the meaning. She was back to business and preparing for the day.
Her cousin, Luke
Forrest, was coming to take her back to Flagstaff under escort. It might be safer for her there, but he didn’t like the idea of relinquishing custody. He knew their force was small and resources were limited. His mind knew it, but his heart wanted to be the one protecting her.
Sophia slipped into her panties.
She stood beside the bed. Jack sat up, the sheet and blankets covering him from midthigh to his waist. If she wanted modesty, he would go along. But after what they had just shared, it seemed sad.
Things were always different in daylight. He knew that.
“Good morning,” he said.
She cast him a bright smile. “Yes. It is.”
He did not know if she referred to the lingering satisfaction from their night together, or her anticipation at leaving. Jack did not like the uncertainty that settled in the pit of his stomach.
“I wanted to be ready when they come for me,” she said.
“I understand.” Say something, he thought. Ask her to stay.
Sophia leaned forward, her fingers brushed along his neck and then she lifted the cord to his medicine bundle. The small leather pouch had been beaded with a medicine wheel in white, black, red and yellow, the wheel segmented into four sections, the symbol as sacred as the cross to many in his tribe. His father said that all things of importance moved in a circle. Inside the pouch were a few blessed objects he used in ceremony and to help ground, protect and inspire him.
“Very traditional for a guy who wears his hair cut so short.” She ran her hands through his hair in emphasis.
He didn’t address the comment about his short hair. If she saw his natural curls, she might understand why he preferred to keep it short, eliminating the sight of one more difference between himself and his people. He looked away and glanced at the folded envelope from Relative Finder Lab in California.
He forced his attention back to the medicine wheel, the symbol that had been chosen for him by his shaman. The hoop had special powers for healing and protection. He supposed a lawman could use all the protection he could get. But his shaman had not picked this emblem to protect, or to mark the seasons or the stages of a man’s life. He had chosen it because it marked the four directions. And Kenshaw had told him the medicine wheel would help guide him.
