by Pamela Clare
“I won’t meddle.”
“Right.” Chaska grabbed the mop. His father would never have done housework, but Chaska couldn’t leave it all to Winona. She had a job, too, and worked every bit as hard as he did. “Where do you want me to start?”
So much for working off his temper at the rock gym.
“They didn’t steal my Honda?” Relief washed through Naomi.
“They slashed the tires, and they tried to hotwire it but didn’t know how. Unfortunately, your steering column and the electrical wiring is a stripped mess. You might be able to find someone local to repair it for you.”
Yes, but how much would that cost?
Then she remembered. “What about the tools in back? Were they still there?”
The officer—a chief deputy U.S. marshal named Zach McBride—was still wearing body armor. “We went through the vehicle before we had it towed to the police yard. There was a tool set in the back, as well as some personal gear—a camera, some clothes. Your tent was there, too, but they had destroyed it. I did find this.”
He held up her backpack, set it carefully on the bed beside her. “They took your food and your camp stove and slashed your sleeping bag.”
She reached into the front mesh pocket and pulled out her cell phone. “At least I have the important stuff. How do I get my vehicle back?”
“Right now, it’s part of a crime scene. When the forensic team is sure they’re done with it, the Scarlet Springs PD or my office will get in touch with you. There’s no cost to you to have it released from their impound yard. You can have it towed to a garage for repairs at that point.”
She took in what he told her, unable to keep herself from feeling overwhelmed by it all. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me today.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind, Ms. Archer, that your quick thinking and willingness to fight back saved your life. The two men who attacked you are guilty of pretty much every violent crime on the books.” He didn’t say more.
He didn’t have to. Special Agents Price and Biggs had already filled her in on that score. Besides, Naomi had watched news coverage on the TV and heard about their criminal records. It had been hard to see Arlie and Clem on the screen. Killers. Rapists. Thieves. She’d had to turn the TV off after just a few minutes.
Fear snaked through her belly. “Do you think they’ll come back for me?”
McBride shook his head. “They’re probably doing everything they can to get far away from here. Their last known location is the mountains above Scarlet Springs. There’s no way they’re going to come back just to finish with you. You can rest easy on that score. Has the victim’s advocate been to see you?”
Naomi nodded. “She helped me fill out paperwork for that fund that covers medical expenses for crime victims.”
Oh, how she hated having to think of herself in that category—a victim.
“Good. When are you flying back to Rapid City?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t figured it all out yet. I’m staying with Winona and Chaska Belcourt for a while.”
McBride frowned. “You’re personal friends with them?”
She shook her head. “I only met them today, but they offered me a place to stay.”
“That’s decent of them.” Deputy Marshal McBride stood, reached into his front right pants pocket, and pulled out a business card. “If you run into any problems, give my office a call. In the meantime, those two have moved to the top of the Most Wanted list. We’re going to find them, Naomi. I promise you.”
His gray eyes looked into hers, his sympathy bringing her strangely close to tears.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you won’t judge Colorado by this terrible experience.”
“Everyone I’ve met—except those two—has been very helpful and kind.” She thought of Chaska again and how he’d stayed with her.
“I’m glad to hear that. I hope you feel better soon.”
Naomi watched McBride go, then pushed the button for more pain relief, and drifted to sleep.
Chapter 5
Naomi sat on her hospital bed, staring at the bags of clothes and toiletries that Ellie had set on the blanket before her. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can’t believe you did this.”
Inside the bag, there was a beautiful white sundress with tiny purple flowers, a flowing cotton skirt in turquoise blue, tank tops in white, yellow, and black, some bikini underwear, a pair of denim shorts, and a sleeveless sleepshirt in butter-soft yellow cotton. There were toiletries, too—a toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, a comb and brush for her hair, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, sunscreen, lip balm, and even a nail care kit.
Why were they being so kind to her?
“We can’t very well discharge you naked, can we?” Ellie shared a smile with Lolly, the nurse who’d cared for Naomi in the ER.
Naomi had forgotten until this morning that the paramedics had cut off her clothes. The rest of her belongings were in the back of her SUV, which was in the police impound yard. “I’d been wondering what I was going to wear. I was going to ask to borrow a pair of scrubs.”
Ellie tugged on her blue scrubs shirt and wrinkled her nose. “Trust me. You don’t want one of these.”
Naomi drew out the pair of shorts, saw on the tag that they were a size six. “How did you know my size?”
“I peeked at your clothes,” Lolly said, pointing to the plastic hospital bag that held the tattered remains of the clothes Naomi had been wearing when she’d been admitted.
“It’s not much, but it ought to get you through the next couple of days,” Ellie said. “If there’s anything you don’t like, the name of the store is on the bag. Winona will know where to go. You can tell the woman who owns the shop who you are. You won’t need a receipt to exchange them. She’ll remember.”
This was too much. “What do I owe you?”
“Owe us?” Lolly looked affronted. “Nothing at all, sweetie. Just take care of yourself.”
What had Naomi done to deserve any of this? “I can’t just accept—”
“Sure, you can.” Ellie patted her arm. “People in Scarlet Springs take care of one another. We all feel terrible about what happened to you. No one here is going to let a guest to our town hobble around on crutches naked.”
That made Naomi laugh. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
After that, Ellie disconnected Naomi from the morphine pump, removed her IV, and helped her take a shower, getting her settled on a bench and covering her ankle and left shoulder with waterproof dressings so that her wounds wouldn’t get wet. Naomi had never showered sitting down before, but she got the hang of it. The hot water felt so good, soap and water washing away dirt and fear, making her feel like herself again.
She wrapped a towel around her hair and another around her body and pushed the call button for Ellie, who came quickly. Ellie steadied her while she got to her feet—or her foot—and walked beside her while she hobbled out of the bathroom on her crutches. The motion hurt the injured muscle in her shoulder, but not unbearably. “I think I’m starting to get the hang of these.”
“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”
“So much better.” It was bliss to feel clean again.
Ellie stayed while Naomi got dressed, then handed her two pain pills and a cup of water. “The doctor has prescribed Percocet, enough to get you through the next couple of weeks. We can pick up the prescription at the hospital pharmacy on your way out. Take it on time. It’s important to stay ahead of the pain. I’ll print your discharge instructions, and we’ll get you out of here.”
An hour later, Naomi sat in a wheelchair, wearing her new sundress and holding her belongings in her lap, while Ellie wheeled her out to the exit and Winona walked beside her, carrying her crutches.
“I’ll get the car.” Winona handed Naomi the crutches and hurried out to the parking lot.
Naomi looked up at Ellie. “Thanks again. Everyone here has been so kind.�
�
“You’re welcome. No one should go through what you went through. It’s a pleasure for us to help.”
Winona pulled up in a green Subaru Forester and parked, then climbed out to help Naomi into the front seat.
Ellie helped, too. “Watch your foot. There you go. You did it.”
Naomi lowered the window. “Thanks for everything.”
Ellie waved as Winona put the vehicle into gear and left the hospital behind.
The drive to Winona and Chaska’s home gave Naomi her first look at Scarlet Springs. There was a small downtown area with boutiques, coffee shops, and restaurants, as well as a strip mall with a grocery store, a dry cleaners, and an ice cream shop. She’d seen at least two marijuana dispensaries—something she wouldn’t find back home. There was a fossil and geode store and a place called the New Life Institute.
“What do they do there?”
Winona smiled. “They freeze people’s heads after they die in hopes that they can one day be brought back to life. I hear it’s very expensive.”
“Oookay.”
Scarlet Springs wasn’t just small. It was also a little … weird.
Winona slowed down as they made their way through a roundabout where a big, bearded man was begging for change.
Naomi stared. “Is he wearing buckskin?”
“That’s Bear,” Winona said. “He’s lived in the mountains west of town for as long as anyone can remember. He’s a big guy and probably seems scary, but he has a child’s heart and mind. We do our best to take care of him.”
Bear waved as Winona passed, calling to her. “‘Whoever is righteous has regard for the life of his beast.’ God bless you, Winona Belcourt.”
Naomi caught a glimpse of a big smile on the man’s bearded face before Winona turned down a side street. “Did he just say your name?”
“Bear and I are friends. He comes into the sanctuary now and again with orphaned or injured wildlife. He knows the names and faces of every person in town. I’m not sure how he remembers everyone, but he does.” Winona pointed with a nod of her head. “There’s my clinic.”
A one-story U-shaped building stood on the corner behind a sign that read “Aspen Wildlife Sanctuary,” a grove of aspen trees out front.
“It’s yours?”
Winona nodded. “I started it after I finished my residency with the help of grants and support from the people of Scarlet.”
Naomi was impressed. “What kind of animals do you treat?”
“Everything from hummingbirds to mountain lions and black bears.” Winona turned the corner and pulled into the driveway of a beautiful two-story Victorian house. “Here we are.”
The roof was steeply gabled with a little tower rising to a spire on one corner, the lacy trim painted white. A wrap-around porch held a few chairs and a wooden swing, bird feeders, and baskets of flowers hanging from arched supports. A tall cottonwood stood in the front yard, strips of yellow, white, black, and red cloth tied to one of its branches and fluttering in the breeze.
Naomi couldn’t help but smile. “It looks like a gingerbread house.”
Winona laughed. “Don’t let Chaska hear you say that. He wanted a cabin, something a little more masculine. He got over that when he saw the workshop out back. We merged this parcel and the land the clinic stands on to build Shota’s enclosure. Let’s get you inside.”
While Winona carried Naomi’s things, Naomi made her way up a brick walkway to the covered front porch and then took the stairs one at a time, still uncertain on her crutches. Winona held the door as she stepped inside.
“Wow.”
The interior of the house was bright and airy, sunlight reflecting off the polished wood floors. The entryway led to a wide staircase with a wooden banister. To her left, there was a sitting room with a big stone fireplace. To her right, there was what looked like a study with a drafting table and lots of books.
“That’s Chaska’s office. When he’s not climbing, he’s designing climbing gear or propulsion systems for satellites.”
Satellites?
“He must be super smart.”
“He thinks so.” Winona gave a laugh then gestured toward the back. “I put you in the guest room behind the kitchen. You’ll have your own bathroom with a shower, and you won’t have to deal with the stairs.”
“Thanks so much.”
The big, sunny kitchen had a checkerboard floor of black and white tile. The white cupboards looked like they were original, with carved detail that must have been done by hand. The appliances were all new, their aluminum surfaces gleaming. A simple dining table of polished maple sat together with six chairs in the adjoining dining room.
“This is lovely.”
“Too bad neither of us likes to cook.”
“Really?” Naomi loved to cook.
“Here’s your room.” Winona waited for Naomi to enter. “The bathroom is just through there.”
The room was small but clean and bright. The twin bed had a plain, white coverlet, a green Pendleton blanket with white buffalo on it folded neatly at the foot. A pine nightstand with a lamp sat beside the bed, a wooden rocking chair in one corner. Green drapes that looked like they’d been sewn by hand hung by simple fabric tabs from a metal curtain rod. Then Naomi saw it.
A medicine wheel.
It hung on the wall across from the bed. Except for its size and the bald eagle feather hanging from its center, it looked like the one Naomi wore around her neck.
“My grandmother made that as a gift for Chaska when he left home.”
The quillwork was exquisite. “It’s beautiful.”
Naomi didn’t want to get drawn into a discussion about her heritage, so she changed the subject. “Thanks so much for taking me in like this.”
Winona smiled. “You’re welcome. I need to get back to the clinic. I’ve got a baby raccoon waiting for surgery. She was hit by a mountain biker and has a broken leg.”
Naomi could sympathize. “Poor little thing.”
“She’ll be fine. Just rest and make yourself at home. We can go shopping tonight to get anything you might need, okay?”
“Thanks, Winona.” Naomi watched her go, then stretched out on the bed, resting her leg on a pillow. Before she knew it, she was asleep.
Chaska waited for the microwave to finish cooking his frozen burrito, his gaze moving over the printed memes and comics taped to the break room cupboard doors. Someone had added a few new ones this morning.
“Holy shit!” read one that featured an image of a man with a horrified expression on his face, telephone in hand. “You used Imperial units?”
Chaska chuckled. Yeah, that stupid mistake had cost NASA a Mars Lander.
“Engineering: If you’re not tired, you’re not doing it right,” read another.
The microwave beeped.
Chaska took out the plate and carried it, together with a cup of coffee and a jar of salsa, to the table. While he ate, the system schematic of the propulsion module for the Comet project ran through his mind. With a propellant load of 90 kilograms of hydrazine, the system was intended for the final orbit trim of the new Comet ST-5, a joint project of scientists at the University of Colorado-Boulder and NASA. RMSA—the company Chaska worked for—had been contracted to build some of the electrical systems as well as the launch and propulsion systems. Scheduled for launch in three years, the Comet ST-5 would spend its life hanging out at a Lagrange point monitoring space for comets and asteroids. It was Chaska’s job to find a way to build a system that was responsive enough to get the satellite precisely where it needed to be in space without increasing overall weight or blowing the hell out of the project budget.
He’d taken a couple of bites when Casper, his supervisor, walked in with the new hire, who was in the middle of his orientation day. The kid was fresh out of college—some fancy school back east—but the freckles on his face made him look younger. He wore a suit and tie, Greek letters engraved on his tie pin. A frat boy. Apparently, the kid was unaware
that the dress code was strictly jeans and T-shirts.
“Hey, Belcourt, I’d like you to meet Sheldon Moore. He’ll be taking the vacant seat on the avionics team. We’ve got high hopes for him.”
Chaska stood, shook the kid’s hand. “Chaska Belcourt.”
Sheldon gave him a toothy bro grin. “Hey.”
“Chaska here is our propulsion systems genius. He’s also a world-class rock climber and designs gear for search and rescue operations in his free time. He could be making bank off patents, but he lets other people use his designs.”
That part about being a world-class climber was an exaggeration, but what Casper had said about the patents was probably true. Chaska didn’t care about the money. He designed the gear to make rescues safer and easier, not to line his pockets.
“Yesterday, he was out on a rescue,” Casper said. “Belcourt here not only found the girl and saved her life, but he helped agents track the bad guys.”
Sheldon looked confused. “Track?”
“He’s Lakota. Grew up on the reservation. Pine Ridge, right?”
Chaska nodded, wishing his boss would shut up.
Casper missed the cues, kept talking. “We try to be flexible with his schedule so that he can participate in rescues. He’s earned that privilege.”
“Cool.” The kid made an awkward attempt at a high-five, which Chaska did not reciprocate. “Way to go, chief.”
Chief?
Nice.
In his teenage years, Chaska might have responded to an insult like this with rough words or fists, but time had given him more control over his temper. Now, he chalked up shit like this to ignorance. “I think you misheard my name. It’s Chaska, but you can call me Belcourt.”
“Let’s let Belcourt get back to his lunch. We’ve got a Monday development deadline and a meeting with the NASA team.” Casper guided Sheldon out of the break room, his voice drifting back to Chaska. “Can you find your way back to my office? We should talk, but I need to have a word with Belcourt first.”
