by Jenna Kernan
So she’d waited here, holding the infant, and then seeing his police cruiser make the turn onto his road... He checked the distance and imagined the timing. She, this brand-new mother, must have hurried out to the drive. He could see it now, the soft indentation of her foot. No boots. A sneaker, maybe. Small with little tread. She would have had to be quick, her hands likely still covered with the blood of the birth. Who had helped her bring the baby? He could find no evidence of a second person.
Did the father know she had left his child? The ache in his heart hardened in his belly.
He walked the perimeter of his property. Farther back, between his home and the pasture beyond, was something purple and bloody. He slowed his steps, approaching carefully. It was a placenta; he knew that from calving. The flies had found it already. He lifted his radio and called it in.
Carol Dorset, their dispatcher, was in the office now and picked up on the first ring. Carol had been on dispatch back before Jake could even remember and had been the one to answer the phone the night Jake had to call 911 on his daddy.
“Chief’s not here yet.”
He glanced at his watch and noted it was 9:05 a.m. The shifts started at 7:00 a.m. and were staggered throughout the day. Since the explosion, they rotated covering nights. They were expecting two new hires, one patrol and one detective, but they had not started yet.
“Should I call the chief at home?” asked Jake. Since he hadn’t been on the job very long, he wasn’t sure what to do.
“I wouldn’t,” said Carol.
“What about Detective Bear Den?” he asked.
“He just left about thirty minutes ago. You can call him. I won’t.”
Tribal Police Detective Jack Bear Den had been out with him last night on the fatality involving a car and a tree. An outsider leaving their casino too late and too drunk. Jake had been first on scene and then Bear Den. Arizona Highway Patrol was next, and then the meat wagon.
He signed off the radio and replaced it to his side, then he retrieved his phone and hesitated, debating whether to call. If he waited, Bear Den might be asleep. He might even be already.
The dam breach and the aftermath was more than they could handle, which was why Bear Den had asked Jake to interview the family of the latest runaway, Maggie Kesselman. She’d be gone a week tomorrow. Girls had been disappearing since last November. There were always runaways among their tribe, but Bear Den had a hunch these girls had not taken off for Phoenix or Vegas. He said that there was something different happening, and he’d had Jake do some initial legwork when he’d been tied up with the dam breech.
Jake considered calling Ty. His older brother had a very good tracking dog who could find this new mother. He stared down at his phone.
He had not spoken to Ty in a long time. Too long. But since Jake had become a tribal police officer seven months ago, Ty was even more distant. Jake wondered what Ty would think if he asked him to chase down a criminal. He’d laugh, if he decided to pick up his phone.
Ty had gotten the worst of it from their dad, no doubt. He just couldn’t shut his mouth or back down. Jake admired that, even though it brought Ty trouble more often than not.
Jake now felt a cold that had nothing to do with the wind. The blood trail from the placenta vanished in the tall grass. It occurred to him that if he’d walked to his back window with the baby, he might have seen the infant’s mother escaping through the pasture behind his place. But he hadn’t.
Had she paused here? Had she crept up to his window to peer inside?
Jake lifted his cell phone and called Detective Bear Den. This was a crime scene and he didn’t want to screw things up.
Bear Den picked up on the second ring, his voice gravelly. Jake’s stomach dropped because he was certain Bear Den had just gotten to sleep. Jake explained the situation. Bear Den gave him instructions and told him he’d be there soon. The line went dead. Jake returned his phone to his pocket and finished circling the property, finding no further evidence.
The wind pushed at him, and he turned back to the house and the infant—and Lori. She seemed mad at him. But she had no reason to be. He’d asked her to marry him, hadn’t he? He’d been willing to go through with it, too.
Ironic, he thought. An unexpected pregnancy had torn them apart and now, it seemed, had brought her back to him again. Well, he wasn’t sixteen this time. Back then, he’d actually thought he loved Lori. But then they lost the baby and she acted as if he’d done something wrong, instead of everything right. He didn’t understand her. It was as if she’d gone crazy. Even as he saw his dreams collapsing. Even knowing that he’d never become a police officer. He’d been willing to drop out of high school, give up college and marry her. He would have done it, against his mother’s wishes, against his brother Ty’s advice, he would have given his baby his name. And after they told him she had lost the baby, he hadn’t left her. He’d gone to see her, to comfort her, and when they finally let him in to see Lori, she’d yelled at him. He remembered exactly what she had said. The only mistake I made was saying yes.
Then she’d sent him off. Him!
Ty had called from boot camp just before Lori delivered and told him that Lori’s older sisters Amelia and Jocelyn had each tried the same thing on Kee the minute he’d been accepted to college. Jocelyn had been only thirteen at the time. Amelia had moved on to Kurt Bear Den but ended up snagging Kent Haskie. Kent had married Amelia senior year and then gone to trade school to learn to fix air and cooling systems. They were still married and had four kids. Jocelyn had married Doug Hoke after their child was born in Jocelyn’s junior year. Ty had told him Doug didn’t know if he was the father, said it was hard to tell without a test and Jocelyn had been a popular girl. Kee had said Lori had targeted the best, just like a hunter assessing a herd of elk. That comment still chafed.
He didn’t like being used, and he was not going to let that happen ever again. Still, he had never blamed Lori. He knew he’d made a mistake and had accepted responsibility. What more did she want?
Everyone thought he’d broken it off. Oh, no. She had. Firmly and irrevocably. He didn’t understand it or her. And he didn’t trust her. His confusion had kept him at a distance.
He didn’t date women he didn’t trust, and he did not trust Lori.
So why had he almost kissed her?
Chapter Three
“Any idea who left the baby?” asked Detective Bear Den.
The questions came more quickly when his boss, Wallace Tinnin, had arrived in a walking cast and come to a halt in Jake’s driveway, wincing. The chief of tribal police had broken his ankle in the dam explosion and flat-out refused to use crutches. Judging from his sour expression and the circles under his eyes, he needed them—along with about ten hours of sleep.
This man had been a police officer for as long as Jake could remember and had come to his childhood home more than once. On one memorable visit, Tinnin had arrested both Jake’s father and Ty in the same day.
Jake answered all the questions and Bear Den went off to examine the crime scene, otherwise known as Jake’s home.
“You did a good job today, son,” said Tinnin.
The praise was like a balm to his spirit and made his throat tighten. Tinnin had been the father figure Jake had chosen, a kind, decent man with an even, predictable temper. He was sparing with praise, which made it all the more precious when it was doled out.
“Thanks.”
“You two getting back together?”
Tinnin knew all about them, of course. The entire tribe did. For a time there, he and Lori were the favorite topic of gossip, a cautionary tale and then a sad story that made folks shake their heads.
Isn’t that a shame about Jake Redhorse? I’m not surprised about the Mott girl, but Redhorse...you’d think he’d know better.
He unlocked his jaw to speak. “No, sir. I just called her becaus
e both the ambulance and my brother Kee were unavailable.”
“I see. Last choice, huh? Funny, though. You two losing a baby girl and then you two finding one, what, three years later?”
“Five.” March sixteenth, just two days after his own birthday. And the wedding was exchanged for a funeral. The white dress stored and the black dress purchased. Jake’s mother had been relieved that he would not have to marry “that girl.” He’d worn his first suit, his wedding suit, to his daughter’s funeral. His upper and lower teeth collided again, and he ground them side to side.
Jake looked away. He’d been a good kid and made his mother proud, mostly. And he’d always tried to give her something, anything to bring her joy. His dad had been in prison, his oldest brother in medical school, and Ty was shipping out on his first tour. He’d been the man of the house at sixteen, and he’d made a mistake with Lori.
“Have you seen the baby yet?” asked Jake.
Tinnin’s thick brows lifted, and he gave a shake of his head. His boss was thin to the point of being gaunt. Gray streaked his collar-length hair in a way that made it look as if he’d accidentally leaned into a freshly painted wall, the white clinging to just the top layer of his scalp. The bags and circles under his eyes were perpetual. His jeans and denim coat made him look like a cowboy, unless you noted the shield clipped to his belt and the bulge where he wore his .45 caliber pistol.
“Why would I need to see her?”
“She has blue eyes,” said Jake.
“All babies have blue eyes. No pigment yet.”
“And blond hair.”
Tinnin shifted, taking the pressure off his injured foot. “You think that baby is white?”
“Seemed so. I was there when Mom brought Abbie home, and I’ve been on a call for a woman delivering.”
“Genevieve Ruiz,” he said.
Jake nodded. “I’ve seen newborn Apache babies. This one is different.”
“Might go see for myself.”
“I’ll come with you.”
They headed to town in separate vehicles. Tinnin followed Jake to the tribe’s urgent-care facility. Tinnin parked in a handicapped spot, and Jake walked slowly beside him through the emergency intake area. They passed Verna Dia heading for her car. She cast them a wave and tossed her bag into her passenger seat.
Inside the urgent-care area, they were greeted and waved on by another nurse, Nina Kenton. There was staff on duty now and patients already waiting. The clinic wasn’t open overnight, though they did have a few rooms if they needed them, but that meant one of the staff had to work overtime, which cost money. The clinic was only six years old, furnished by casino profits, and it ran a deficit every year.
They waved to familiar faces as they headed to the baby wing, as Jake called it. This was a unique section of the facility, the women’s health clinic, and included birthing rooms, exam rooms and a nursery. They found Lori with the chief physician, Dr. Hector Hauser, in the nursery, both wearing surgical masks over their faces. The bassinets were lined up but mostly empty. Jake spotted only two tiny sleeping faces.
This, then, was why Lori had been at work so early. She had become the favored delivery nurse because, according to their dispatcher, Lori was gaining clinical experience in preparation for taking the certification exam to become a neonatal nurse. She spent her life trying to bring healthy babies into the world, and Jake had to wonder at that. He also wondered why she had not married. Of the Mott sisters, only Lori and Dominique were single, and Dominique was still in high school. The Mott girls had a family history of marrying young and filling the tribe’s rosters with new members.
Tinnin paused at the locked door to the nursery. They could go no farther without access. This area remained locked to keep unauthorized people from doing something stupid, like snatching a baby, but they could see in through the viewing window.
Dr. Hauser had the tiny girl on a digital scale as she kicked and fussed, with Lori standing watch. Hauser’s jowly face made him look both sad and serious. Unlike many in their tribe, Hauser kept fit and trim, but the lines at his eyes and the flesh at his neck told that he was well past his middle years.
The doctor leaned in, speaking to Lori, who recorded something—the weight, Jake assumed—in the chart neatly held to the metal clipboard.
Lori then set aside the chart and expertly lifted the tiny pink girl and bundled her in a soft-looking flannel wrap. She placed the girl on her shoulder and did a little bounce to comfort the infant. She seemed completely relaxed with a baby on her shoulder. Jake found himself smiling. It was at that moment she turned and noticed him there. Their gazes met, and she smiled back. He knew this by the crinkling of her eyes at the corners. She turned the newborn so he could see the tiny face, as if he were the nervous father coming to see his baby girl. Lori nodded at the baby and then glanced back to him. Look what we did, she seemed to say. We saved this little one.
He nodded, his smile broadening as a familiar warmth welled inside him. This was how she had once looked at him, and he missed it.
The warm welcome in Lori’s eyes as she continued the rhythmic bounce made her look so different from how he usually saw her. They’d begun a routine of her spotting him when he had business at the clinic and him pretending not to see her, his eyes shifting away as he searched for an escape route. The only time he allowed himself to look at her was when she didn’t know he was there. Until today. Now he saw her and she saw him. Something inside his chest tightened.
Tinnin made a sound in his throat. “That baby is white.”
“I think so,” said Jake.
“All white, I mean.”
“Agreed.”
“So, if the papa wasn’t Apache, why would a white girl come up here to have a baby?”
* * *
LORI SET THE sleeping baby into the bassinet and then let Chief Tinnin and Jake Redhorse into the delivery room. Hauser lowered his mask to offer a greeting as he stepped past them. Then he headed down the corridor toward the urgent-care area and the patients already waiting. Lori offered her two visitors both a mask. Tinnin’s limp was growing worse by the minute.
“How is she?” asked Tinnin, holding the mask to his face.
“She’s perfect. A little small but otherwise healthy.” She glanced at Jake, keeping her distance. The joy had fled, and now her steady gaze held a familiar caution.
Her attention flicked back to the chief.
“We need a blood type,” said Tinnin.
“We do that routinely. I’ll be sure you get a copy of the results.”
“What about the baby?” Jake interjected.
“I’ll be here until Burl arrives.”
Burl Tsosie was one of the four nurses here, along with Lori, Nina and Verna.
“Any word from Protective Services?” asked Tinnin.
“Not yet, but they usually make us the temporary guardians. That gives them time to secure placement, if the mother isn’t found.”
“She’s not getting that baby even if she is found.” Jake’s outrage crept into his voice. “Because I’m placing her under arrest.”
Lori’s eyes rolled up, and the breath she let out was audible.
He glanced at the baby, sleeping peacefully, her tiny eyelashes fanning her pink cheeks. She’d be placed and adopted, he realized. Why did that eventuality make his chest ache? He met Lori’s gaze and saw she also looked troubled. They’d found her, and somehow that gave him a personal stake in what happened to this baby girl.
“When?” said Tinnin, referring to the arrival of a Protective Services representative.
“I’m not sure,” said Lori. “They have an office in Globe and one in Flagstaff. Depends on what other business they have.”
“I’ll stay,” said Jake.
Lori’s brow wrinkled. “It might not even be today.”
Jake set his jaw
but said nothing.
Tinnin cast him an odd look.
“It’s a lock-in area,” Lori said to Jake, offering her upturned hands with her explanation. “No one but the parents get near one of our babies.”
“I’m still staying.”
It was clear from the placement of one hand on her hip that Lori did not appreciate his intrusion into her territory.
Jake and Lori squared off.
Tinnin turned to hobble toward the door, pausing to look back at Jake. “Suit yourself, Redhorse. You’re off duty. But try to get a few hours sleep.”
The door closed behind him, and the chief wobbled past the viewing window and out of sight.
Lori returned her attention to Jake.
“Mask,” she said, pointing to the mask he now held at his side.
He tied the top string around his head, then looked down at the newborn he’d found in his truck. She was very pale, but beautiful. He’d never thought babies were beautiful before. His chest ached again, and he itched to hold her. He reached out with one finger to stroke the infant’s cheek.
“Don’t touch the babies. You’re not clean.” Her crisp tone let him know that this was very definitely her dominion, and she did not appreciate him inserting himself here.
He wished he could keep the baby. Jake frowned. Of all the stupid ideas in his life, that fleeting thought was second only to the idea that he could control himself in the bed of his new pickup with Lori Mott back on that long-ago summer night when they were both sixteen. He never had been able to control himself around Lori. Still couldn’t. She riled him up. It was one of her special talents—making him crazy for her without seeming to do anything at all. He’d been young and dumb. They both had been. Everyone was mad at Lori for trying to snare him. He didn’t know if that were true. He did know that the idea of getting married so young had scared him. He was afraid they’d have a kid and then another until maybe he’d end up robbing a store out of sheer desperation, just like his father. During his junior year, he had carried the scholarship offers around with him, but he had known he wouldn’t use them. He had believed that he’d never get a four-year degree or come back to wear the uniform. Instead, he had thought that he’d marry Lori and live on the rez in public housing and work for the lumber mill or with the tribe’s cattle. His mother and her mother wouldn’t speak to one another. Still didn’t. And his mother had said she would not attend the wedding.
