Afterward, they lay together, entwined, Clint still buried deep inside her for what could’ve been a life time. No other man would ever measure up to Clint Sisnuket. She felt as surely marked by him as she’d felt marked by the wolves.
Withdrawing, he excused himself to the other side of the room. Within a few minutes he was back in bed with her, pulling her close, his arms wrapped around her.
Without filtering her thoughts, Tessa spoke from her heart. “Tonight at dinner, I was envious of Jenna.” She paused and rolled over, sliding her thigh over his. Then she opened herself, her heart, in a way she’d never imagined she would. “I don’t want to leave tomorrow.”
CLINT ROLLED TO HIS side and watched the muted light flicker across Tessa’s face. He heard her words, but he knew what he knew. This time tomorrow night he would be in his own bed, alone again. And he’d known it from the beginning, known the inevitability. He wanted her to understand at least part of it.
“My mother lives in Montreal,” he said without preamble.
She didn’t look surprised, she merely nodded. “That’s who you lived with in Montreal.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. She came with a documentary film crew. My father, who had been seeing a native woman, was hired as the guide.”
“I’m guessing he and your mother fell in love and that didn’t go well on any level.”
“Uh-uh.”
“Were he and the woman from the village engaged?”
“No, but they were just about one step shy of that. Her name was Cassie Chinoowa. And then the documentary film crew arrived. When the time came for the crew to leave, my father was torn. He couldn’t go to Montreal. He belonged here but he didn’t believe my mother could be happy here and he knew her being accepted by his people would be a huge issue. But he loved her and she swore she’d be happy as long as she was with him. Of course, she didn’t deliberately deceive him. I’m sure she meant it at the time.”
“That must have really been awkward on lots of different levels.”
“Cassie was humiliated and broken-hearted. My grandparents were humiliated because their son betrayed Cassie and he did so with a white woman. It would’ve probably been better if my father had up and moved to Canada with her…or maybe not. I think it was just ill-fated from the beginning. You can guess the rest.”
“How old were you when you and she moved to Montreal?”
“Five. I was as miserable there as she’d been here. My mother’s parents weren’t happy to have a mixed race grandson in the first place. They’d been as against the marriage as my father’s parents. And to add insult to injury, I looked totally native.”
“Yes, you do. Let me guess that your mother is blonde.”
Clint nodded. “Scandinavian ancestry. That’s where I got my height. I came back when I was seven.”
“Did either of them ever remarry?”
“No. I think they really loved each other, probably still do. She just couldn’t live here and he couldn’t live there. If you consider Good Riddance’s population…well, it’s obviously not the place for a lot of people.”
“Do you see her often?”
“When I was younger she’d come out and visit in the summers but then I started spending my summers as a guide and it was very awkward between my mother and my father’s family so we saw each other less and less. She came to my college graduation and then I saw her a couple of years ago.”
“Now I know why your grandmother didn’t like me. It doesn’t make it right, but I at least understand now. Her attitude makes a little more sense.”
“She doesn’t want to see me hurt the way my father was.”
“It might also have something to do with the fact that she felt humiliated.”
“I’m sure that plays a role in her hostility.”
“It’s not hostility. It’s called prejudice, the same as it was when you went to Montreal and your mother’s family treated you shabbily because of your native heritage. And if she treated your mother the way she treated me, I can understand why it was difficult for your mom to stick it out.”
“Funny, I never thought of it from that perspective.” All this time he’d simply seen it as his mother not having what it took to adapt to life in the village, not that his grandmother might have made it as impossible for his mother as her parents had made it for him.
“You know your grandmother isn’t going to give up until you’ve married a native woman.” She hesitated and then continued, “Unless you stand up to her.” Once again she hesitated as if unsure of the boundaries. “You know, Clint, you don’t have to atone for your father. His choices were his choices.”
“Our whole family paid for his choices.”
“You were a kid, so yes, you were caught up in something outside of your control, but everyone else…they’re adults and how they react and respond to different situations is up to them and their choice.”
“But you understand—”
“What I understand is you’re determined not to be your father. I get that. But are you so caught up in not being him that you’ve lost sight of who you are?”
Clint didn’t have an answer for her. He wanted to unequivocally say no, but he couldn’t. He also wished he could tell her not to go tomorrow, but that didn’t seem possible either.
TESSA ROLLED THE LAST of her clothes into her suitcase and looked around her room at the bed-and-breakfast to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind.
It was crazy but leaving Good Riddance was turning out to be one of the hardest things Tessa had ever done. And if leaving Good Riddance was difficult, saying goodbye to Clint Sisnuket was wrenching. Last night, she’d almost invited him to Tucson but she couldn’t see him coming and even if he were willing, it was a bad idea. She’d confessed she didn’t want to leave, perhaps looking for some validation that she belonged here, with him. However, he’d made it abundantly clear they didn’t have a future based on the history with his parents and his grandmother’s attitude. And Clint wasn’t a casual kind of guy—she’d known it from the moment she’d met him.
Severing ties before she became any more attached seemed like the best plan. And somehow, some way, she had slipped up and become attached. Terribly attached. In fact, it seemed to her that her heart was breaking. But it was better to end it now than to get deeper and deeper in and more invested. She’d had enough heartache to last her a lifetime.
A knock sounded on her door. “Who is it?”
As if conjured up by her thoughts, Clint answered. “It’s me.”
He’d returned to his room this morning before the rest of the bed and breakfast guests were up and about. “Come on in.”
He entered, closing the door behind him. “I thought I’d say goodbye privately.”
Things felt unutterably awkward between them. When they’d first met there had been excitement tinged with reluctance and almost hostility, but this…this was painfully awkward.
“Okay,” she said, at a loss for anything to add to that.
He shifted from one foot to the other. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
His question simply irritated her. “Right now I plan to be editing footage I shot here.” She zipped her case closed. There was a finality about it that wasn’t lost on her.
“That’s not what I meant. I meant who will you spend the day with? Some friends? Some other family members?”
What difference did it make to him? “I usually order take-out from someplace and work.”
“Take-out?” A disapproving frown drew his dark eyebrows together. “Alone?”
She wanted to slap him. How dare he give an implied criticism of her choices? She’d offered to be part of his life last night and he’d passed. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not comfortable making myself a part of someone else’s celebration.” Her life was vastly different from his, where he was part of a clan and a larger community. “Besides, you forget I’ve been marked by the wolves so being alone is right in keepin
g with my totem.”
“No.” His dark eyes held her gaze. “Wolves aren’t solitary creatures. They live and travel in packs. A wolf totem indicates loyalty and intuition as well as spirit.”
Tessa wasn’t sure why, but that made her even more unhappy and disquieted. She squared her shoulders. What was her problem? She’d come here alone and she was going home alone. And whatever had happened in between was just that, a lull, an interlude. To have wanted anything more was not only foolish, but dangerous.
“Thanks for showing me such great sights. I got some awesome footage and the videos should turn out well.”
She held out her hand. Part of her wanted to howl at the notion of shaking his hand, the other part of her thought she might shatter if he actually hugged her.
He shook her hand. “Tessa…”
“Take care, Clint.” She dropped his hand.
He hesitated and then said, “You take care, as well.”
She’d be alone just as she’d been and just as she was meant to be.
MERRILEE LOOKED AT Tad and then glanced over her shoulder to Dalton. “Dalton, did you tell me that the plane’s at its weight limit and you’re not going to be able to get another passenger on today?”
Dalton shrugged. “Yep. And I’m booked up tomorrow too.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to line another plane up for me,” Tad said.
Just as Merrilee had anticipated, Tad was nice and pissed about Jenna’s decision to stay. Subsequently, he was now refusing, once again, to sign the papers. Surely, sooner than later, since it had already been twenty-five years, the papers would be signed and she’d no longer be married to this poor excuse of a human being.
“That’s going to be difficult. Everybody’s pretty tied up now, pre-holiday rush and such,” Merrilee said.
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
He could sign or his sorry hide would be stuck here, where everyone knew Jenna had dumped him and Merrilee had moved across the continent to get away from him. Merrilee shrugged. “I’m just saying you could be here for a while.”
Tad glanced from Merrilee to Dalton and Bull who had come in mid-discussion. Merrilee saw it in his face the minute Tad decided. “Fine. I’ll sign the damn papers.” He looked at Dalton, his nostrils flaring. Tad snatched up a pen, and within three seconds, the papers bore his signature. He tossed the pen onto the desk and glared at Dalton. “Now do you think you can adjust the weight limits on your plane?”
Dalton grinned. “I’ll see what I can do about shifting some cargo deliveries to a different day.”
Merrilee felt as if a gorilla—make that jackass—was off her back. Bull turned silently and left the room. But she wasn’t sure if she and Bull were ever going to be right again.
16
CLINT WALKED INTO GUS’S. The lunchtime crowd was fairly heavy. Donna laid some cash on the bar and stood, leaving her seat next to Nelson empty. Clint nodded a greeting to Donna and slid into the vacant spot.
“How’s it going, Nelson?”
“No complaints. You?”
Teddy approached on the other side of the bar. “Hey, Clint. What’ll it be today?”
“Moose burger, fries and a tea.”
“Sure thing.”
Teddy headed for the open kitchen and Nelson shot him a sidelong glance. “You ever figure out that eagle message?”
“Nope.”
“Have you tried?”
“I’ve been…distracted.” He’d been damn miserable is what he’d been. It was as if he’d lost a part of himself when Tessa had climbed on-board and flown out with Dalton. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d wondered what she was doing and how she was doing. He’d been tempted to drop her an email but he never did. He’d never felt this way before.
He’d kept up his same routine, waiting for things to return to normal, waiting to find pleasure and joy in the wilderness that had always spoken to him. Now, however, it had grown silent.
“You’ll have to clear your head before you can hear what you’re meant to hear.”
“Maybe there is no message. Maybe it was just a freak accident.”
Nelson shook his head. “There’s a message. But you have to open yourself to it.”
Teddy delivered Clint’s food and Nelson pushed away from the bar. “Sorry, got to run.” Nelson clapped Clint on the back. “Take it easy.”
Clint ate about a third of his meal but didn’t really taste it. He got up and spoke to a couple of people on his way out, whistling for Kobuk when he stepped outside. The dog joined him and jumped into the truck ahead of him. He cranked the engine, then headed toward home. Everything seemed meaningless. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep.
He was driving near the spot where the wolf had appeared that day when it hit him like a glacier calving and sending waves crashing to the shore.
He needed…Tessa. The eagle had knocked him down, literally sending him sprawling and cracking his head, telling him to quit listening to his head and pay attention to his heart instead. He had been so damn busy trying to prove to Tessa that she didn’t belong, didn’t fit here, that he’d refused to see she’d been marked and she’d marked him.
For as much noise as he’d had in his head and as stubborn as he’d been, it was now all abundantly clear. A wolf and an eagle were a perfect complement to each other. They were both strong and loyal, and while the wolf ranged the earth, the eagle ruled the sky. The two dominions meshed in perfect synchronicity.
It was as if when the scales fell from his eyes, all was revealed. He knew what he had to do. He drove out to the village and parked in his grandmother’s yard.
He found his grandmother alone in the kitchen, the TV going in the next room. Apparently she and Aunt Leona had already had words for the day and Aunt Leona was working off her mad.
“Grandmother, I have something to tell you.”
“It’s a mistake.” She cut to the chase, her eyes knowing, reading his heart and his intention.
He had listened with his head for so long, but now his heart stood strong. “No, it isn’t. She isn’t. She belongs here as surely as you and I do.” He relayed the incident of the wolf marking Tessa. “It doesn’t matter what color her skin is, the wolf recognized her soul as one of its own.”
The old woman tightened her lips in stubborn disapproval.
She had raised him, stepping in for his mother. Clint loved her, he respected her, but he would not live his life by her dictates. “I’m going for her and I hope she’ll come back with me. If I am lucky enough that she returns with me, you have a choice. You can either welcome her as a granddaughter in a way you never welcomed my mother as a daughter—”
“She was no daughter of mine.”
It was funny, you accepted circumstances of your life for years without question. Things were as they were and you simply moved forward. Now, for the first time in his life, he wondered, and so he asked his grandmother, “Did you ever lay down the rug and pass along the lantern for my mother?”
It was a long-standing tradition in their clan. In a harsh and cold climate, warmth and fire meant the difference between life and death. In the days of old, the rug was sewn together with either bear or seal skins, and it offered protection against the cold ground. The lantern had traditionally been whale oil and was kept going so that fires could be maintained, ensuring the family didn’t freeze to death. When a man married, his mother welcomed the bride into the family by laying down the rug and passing along a lantern, thus ensuring the new couple would have a chance at a good life. Over the years, the rugs were no longer real animal skins and commercial lanterns had replaced the whale oil lamps of old, but the symbolism was still the same. It was one of acceptance and the wish to live and prosper together.
His grandmother’s black eyes bore into his, proud and unyielding. “She was not my daughter.”
“She could have been.” Sadness and more than a hint of anger tinged him. He had a new insight into wh
at life here must have been like under his grandmother’s cold, harsh disapproval. But the past was done. He raised his head, returning her stare. “You can lay down the blanket and pass the lantern to Tessa or I can move out of the village and into town. And if she doesn’t want to live here, I’ll move to Tucson.”
Unrelenting, unyielding, she narrowed her eyes at him. “You would put this woman before your own people? Your own land?”
He didn’t hesitate, yet he let the silence stretch between them. Once he spoke, there would be no going back. “Yes, I would.”
Cunning flashed in her eyes. “It is your father and mother all over again, I—”
He interrupted her. No more. “I am not my father and Tessa is not like my mother.” Actually, had his father truly put his mother first, they might have stayed together. “We are each our own selves. Tessa is strong and resourceful.”
His grandmother looked positively grim. “What about Ellie?”
He shrugged. Ellie was the least of the matter. Not because he was callous and unfeeling but because the woman wasn’t interested in Clint in the least. “Ellie is no more interested in me than I am in her.”
“She’s never told me that.”
“And she won’t because she’s not as strong as Tessa.” He stood tall and resolute. “You have a choice to make, Grandmother, because if Tessa will have me, I’m hers.”
TESSA STOOD IN HER bedroom window overlooking the front courtyard, unable to sleep, feeling like a stranger in her own home. Mainly because she didn’t want to be here, and this wasn’t where she belonged anymore. She wanted to be back in Good Riddance, but mostly she wanted to be with Clint. It didn’t matter whether she’d wanted to love him or whether she’d allowed herself to love him…she simply did.
In the distance, a coyote howled, a different sound from the howl of the wolf. It reminded her of the beliefs of Clint’s people, and suddenly she knew the truth. She and Clint had marked each other. It was indisputable. Undeniable. She wouldn’t give up on him…on them.
Northern Encounter Page 14
