by Taylor Lee
The Judge laughed heartily. “I can see that you have some interesting days, and potentially nights, ahead of you, Son.”
Jake started in surprise at his grandfather’s inference, then conceded. “Damn, Judge, you don’t miss a fucking thing do you?”
“No, Jake, I don’t. Not when it comes to my grandsons. Particularly the one who has spent his adult life determined not to become entrapped by a woman. God knows, many have come after you, but you’ve been damned successful keeping them at bay.”
Jake gave a soft snort. “Trust me, Judge. The last thing the Indian princess, as you have aptly named her, is going to do is ‘come after’ me, as you so delicately put it. Hell, I barely got out of there yesterday with my scalp intact.”
The Judge’s weathered face crinkled in amusement. “I understand, Son, and I agree. From what I hear, no man has found the key to that particular kingdom, although many have tried. What has my interest peaked is that you seem to be ready to enter the fray. I don’t have to tell you, Jake, if any man can find the key to that locked fortress, you can.”
Jake shook his head with a grin, amazed at the Judge’s perspicacity and his own acknowledgement that he was more than professionally interested in the prickly princess—which he’d decided was his name for her from this point forward. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Judge, but right now my concern is how to get the tribal police chief to talk to me. The issues we are facing are critical and likely to get damned dangerous. Particularly if I can’t break through that anti-nuclear missile defense system she’s constructed around herself. From what I can tell she is the ultimate loner. Chief Lighthorse said as much. He said he hoped I would be patient with her, that she is the least trusting person he knows, and could use some professional guidance.”
“Which confirms my point, Jake. I know enough about Chief Delgado’s personal history to know that you have your work cut out for you. But if anyone can break though her defenses, it’s you.”
“To that point, Judge. I know that Chief Lighthorse is Sam’s maternal grandfather. I’ve heard the gossip that her father is not only white, but one of the pillars of society in our little piece of the universe. Given that Mitchell Sterling is one of your best friends, can you confirm the rumor that he is Samantha’s father?”
The Judge sighed. “Because of your interest in the young woman, professional and otherwise, and because I know that you will keep my confidence, I’ll tell what I know, which is a fair amount in that Mitch Sterling is one of my longtime friends. Perhaps this bit of history will help you understand that prickly young woman better. As they say, forewarned is forearmed.”
The Judge walked over to the liquor cabinet and took a bottle of Maker’s Mark. He winked at Jake. “Some conversations require a dash of liquid support to make them flow easier.” He poured a healthy portion for Jake and himself, then settled into his leather armchair, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. “Mitch never denied that he and Samantha’s mother had an affair, and, yes, that he is the girl’s father. I can tell you, Grace Lighthorse was as beautiful a woman as her daughter apparently is. When he found out she was pregnant, Mitch told me he would have married Grace in a heartbeat. He even approached her father and asked him to convince his daughter to marry him. But she refused Mitch out of hand and left the reservation before the baby was born. Somewhere along the way, Grace married Samantha’s stepfather, Peter Delgado, a Native guy who was killed in a car accident when Samantha was a toddler.”
The Judge sipped on his whiskey, then spoke carefully. “When she was a relatively young woman, Grace developed ovarian cancer. Knowing she was dying, she came back to the reservation with her daughter. Mitch told me that he reached out to Grace, asking her if he could meet his daughter.
“Apparently Grace had never told her daughter, who was a teenager at the time, who her father was, but agreed that it was time Samantha knew. According to Chief Lighthorse, Samantha was furious when she found out that her father was an Anglo. To this day, she’s refused to have anything to do with a man she calls a belgano, a blue-eyed devil. After her mother died, Samantha went back to the Northwest and earned what I understand are three advanced college degrees. Except to visit her grandfather, she didn’t return to Crow Lake until she was elected as the new tribal police chief.”
The Judge heaved a hard sigh and added, “I’m confident Samantha doesn’t know that all of her college tuition and her mother’s financial support over the years came from her Anglo father.”
“Damn, Judge. That is some story. In the short time that I was with Sam, I saw all that pride and fierce allegiance to her Native heritage. I assumed she was mixed race. But now that I know she despises her biological father, who happens to be white, or specifically because he is white, it makes connecting with that feisty woman an even bigger challenge.”
The Judge sighed. “You’re correct, Jake, but from everything her grandfather has said, she needs a friend and a positive Anglo role model. You could be that man, Jake.”
Jake nodded. He probably could be. He admitted the only problem was that friendship was not the relationship he’d been envisioning when he thought about the gorgeous woman. Nope, the image his lusty brain was conjuring up was a far cry from friendly. Provocative? Hmm. Salacious? Yeah. Intensely physical? Hell, yeah!
Chapter 4
Hearing the excited shouts and laughter of young children outside her window, Sam shook herself out of her tormented musings and drew back the shades to see what was happening. As if some mischievous angel, or more likely a rascally devil, was intent on torturing her further, an unmistakable bright red Jag was parked outside the precinct building. Like she needed the knife in her gut driven in further, she saw a cluster of pre-teen boys and girls eagerly surrounding the tall police commander. He was chatting with them as though he were a familiar friend, certainly not the nemesis that had been tearing at her ragged composure since the previous afternoon. Needing to know what gave this presumptuous man the right to invade her territory as though he had a right to be here, Sam threw on her Stetson and headed into the yard.
Seeing the crowd of eager children surrounding the commander and his flashy car, Sam snorted. You’d have thought that Santa Claus had arrived four months early. As she rounded the corner preparing to take him on, Sam saw her grandfather coming from his private quarters. Sighting the commander, her grandfather’s deeply tanned, weathered face broke into a wreath of smiles. In a booming voice, he called out a greeting.
Commander Justice broke from the crowd of eager children and strode to greet the elderly chief. Watching him clasp the old man in a one-armed hug, Sam was shocked at the familiar gesture, and her anger spiked. Of course. She should have known. Her grandfather and the intrusive commander were friends. Apparently good enough friends that her beloved grandfather had betrayed her, she thought with a disgusted grunt. He’d chosen to side with the arrogant cop rather than support his only granddaughter in her principled fight.
Ignoring the children who were struggling to get closer to Commander Justice, Sam glared at him and struck out. “Well, well, if it isn’t the exalted commander of the DPD. To what do we owe this honor? Did you come to see if we’re harboring any Anglo prisoners among the red-skinned ones in our jail? Or are you just out for a Sunday drive in your fancy car and decided to go slumming on the rez?”
Her grandfather startled and turned to face her. Struggling to control his obvious surprise, he said in a forced voice ringing with dismay, “Samantha Kalani, I’m surprised and appalled by your rudeness. Commander Justice is a friend and—”
Not caring that she sounded shrill, Sam lifted her chin and glared at her grandfather. “I can see that he is your friend, Grandfather.” Lifting her chin higher, Sam added bitterly, “Apparently he is a good enough friend that you’re willing to sacrifice your family members to prove your deference to the white authority.”
A dark flush darkened her grandfather’s countenance. His pained expression contorting with anger
and embarrassment confirmed that she had gone too far. Sam had never openly defied her esteemed grandfather and was horrified that she had egregiously dishonored the man she revered above all others. Wanting to project her anger where it belonged, Sam whirled on the frowning man who was studying her narrowly. Commander Justice’s serious expression should have stopped her, but her sleepless night filled with alternating bouts of rage and pain made her even more reckless than usual. Refusing to back down, she glared at him and demanded, “I asked you a question. Answer me. Why are you here? And if it is not official business, please leave.”
To her surprise, Commander Justice stepped toward her and grasped her arm. Pulling her out of earshot of the throng of eager children, he loomed over her, his low voice stippled with warning. It sent surprising shivers down her spine. “In answer to your question and extraordinarily rude behavior, yes, I’m here on official business. Apparently, Chief Delgado, you have been so consumed throwing temper tantrums that you’re unaware of the program exchange your predecessor and I developed. Once a month, one of my officers or I come to the reservation for a martial arts demonstration. In exchange, one of your police officers comes to the DPD to demonstrate their traditional fighting techniques. The program has been in existence for three years and has done a great deal to strengthen the cordial relationship between our departments.”
Glancing at her stony-faced grandfather whose eyes were bright with a mix of strong emotions, he said quietly, “And, yes, I’m honored to count Chief Lighthorse as a friend and advisor. He and I have a long-term, respectful relationship.” With a stern frown at Sam, he added, “One that I will not allow anything or anyone to jeopardize.”
Releasing her arm, the tall man stepped back and turned away as if she didn’t warrant further conversation. Instead, he addressed the eager children clamoring for his attention. Smiling a bright, engaging smile, he addressed the excited throng. “Okay, munchkins, let’s head on over to the practice ring. While we wait for the demonstration to begin, who wants to take me on? Will? Madeline?”
As the children crowded around Commander Justice, begging to be chosen, he led them across the field toward the outdoor training ring. Sam stared after them, then forced herself to meet her grandfather’s gaze. She was mortified at her behavior and thoroughly embarrassed at the dressing down from the imposing commander. She felt like a wayward child who’d been sent to the principal’s office. That was bad enough, but upon seeing the aggrieved expression on her grandfather’s face, Sam was overcome with shame.
Meeting his hard gaze, she stammered, “I…I’m sorry, Grandfather.” Closing her eyes to hold back her tears, she shook her head. “I don’t know what more I can say…”
Her grandfather held up his hand and shook his head. “There is nothing more to say, Samantha. You are clearly in pain. Perhaps tomorrow you and I can talk about what happened with Commander Justice. At the moment I have nothing I can add to what the commander said to you. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to watch the demonstration. I suggest that you take several moments to recover your composure, then join me at the training ring. You might learn something, Granddaughter, about how leaders conduct themselves.”
Sam stood silently watching her gray-haired grandfather tread across the grounds toward the grassy ring. She was struck by how fragile he looked in comparison to the tall dark-haired man who’d held her in place and dressed her down. Chastised by her grandfather’s harsh words and his endorsement of the commander’s actions, Sam was flooded with embarrassment. Not surprisingly, the anger that had kept her awake throughout the night fizzled, leaving her feeling alone and compromised. She started to go back to her office, but seeing the crowd of excited men and women heading to the training ring, she decided that she wouldn’t allow the commander to capture her people and relegate her to the sidelines. Lifting her chin, she straightened her shoulders and reminded herself that for better or worse, she was the tribal police chief, and no one, including Commander Jake Justice, was going to send her to the woodshed.
****
Jake wasn’t surprised that it took everything he had to squash the anger tearing at his gut and replace it with ersatz bonhomie as he headed to the demonstration site. He was stunned at Samantha’s rude behavior and open attack on her grandfather. Seeing the old man’s distress, he was amazed that he’d been able to castigate the outrageous woman and keep his relative cool while he was seething inside. He comforted himself knowing that he hadn’t begun to deal with Samantha Delgado. That task would take place after he and Bobby Mackey had played out their demonstration match. In addition to endorsing the exchange program with his presence, Jake’s secondary goal was to create the illusion of a relationship with their UC should anyone see them together in the future. His final reason for suggesting that he represent the DPD at this month’s exchange was to give him an excuse to see Sam again.
Reminding himself that he had a role to play, he turned to Mackey and bowed low. No one had to tell either of them what was to happen next. They were to put on a show the likes of which the audience had never seen. Jake fought like he never had in an exhibition match. His jangled nerves required nothing less. At one point during a break, Bobby leaned over and said sotto voce, “Uh, Commander, this is an exhibition match, right, man? We aren’t supposed to kill each other, correct?”
Jake laughed and nodded. “Sorry, buddy, got a little carried away. I’ll pull it back.”
Mackey glanced over at the cheering crowd and obviously spotted the police chief. “It’s okay, Jake. Jared told me you had a particular person you wanted to impress. I gotta tell you, bro, if you’re after who I think you are, you got bigger balls than any man I know. From one avowed skirt chaser to another, according to those who oughta know, that little coochie is apparently the biggest ball-breaker ever to land on or off this reservation. Word of warning, dude, watch your dick. Or get a major league cup to protect it with.”
When the match ended and he’d showered and dressed, Jake worked the crowd. His goal was to confirm his position with the open-minded tribal members and make a dent in those radically opposed to collegial relations with the DPD. Fortunately, that group was decidedly smaller—which had to be painful to the haughty tribal police chief. Impressed that she had the cojones to watch the match, he kept her within his sights. The last thing he planned to do tonight was let her escape. Hell no, he had a date with the tribal police chief, and he intended to keep it.
Jake saw Sam heading toward the precinct building and wove his way through the crowd to cut off her exit. Reaching for her arm, he continued the conversation he was having with one of the tribal elders, keeping her firmly at his side. After the elder left, tossing a quizzical glance over his shoulder at the two of them, Jake leaned down and tightened his grip on her arm. “Don’t bother trying to escape, Chief Delgado. We started a conversation earlier, and we’re going to finish it.”
Sam glared at him, trying unsuccessfully to free her arm. She tipped up her chin. “I’m tired of you grabbing me, Commander Justice. I presume you think that all you need to do is give me an order, and like all the other women you command, I will obey.”
Jake laughed. It felt good because it was real. At one critical level she amused him. At another, he knew he had her exactly where he wanted her. Instead of playing the heavy, he grinned at her.
“I assure you, Chief Delgado, you’re nothing like all the other women I know, or for that matter, any of them. But yes, you’re correct. I have a couple important goals for tonight. First, I’m hungry as hell after an arduous match with an accomplished fighter. Second, you and I have a conversation to finish. Understand me, Chief Delgado, I’m not nearly done with you tonight. Therefore, it makes total sense to me that we head for the Pit Stop Bar.”
Astonished at his arrogance, Sam tried to free herself when they neared his Jag, but Jake shook his head and jerked her up against his side.
“Uh-uh, Chief. You are going to get into my snazzy automobile and we are going to
drive to the Pit Stop. You can choose what you want to eat, but I’m having the biggest damn burger Tiny will serve me and a double order of fries. And after we have eaten, Chief Delgado, you’re going to tell me what and, or who, put that enormous tree trunk up your ass. It’s important I know how it got there, because I’m the guy who’s going to take it out.”
Chapter 5
Jake cranked up his expensive sound system and hummed along with John Fogerty’s rendition of “I Put a Spell on You,” grinning to himself at the appropriateness of the confrontational oldie. He ignored the silent woman sitting stiffly in the bucket seat beside him. Staring straight ahead, palpable anger rolled off of her in sheets. Turning onto the dirt driveway leading to the Pit Stop Bar, the go-to dive on the rez, Jake was out of his seat and at Sam’s door before she could open it. Taking no chances on her getting away, he grasped her elbow and guided her into the shabby bar. Responding with a wave to the chorus of greetings from the guys behind the bar and a good number of the regulars, Jake steered Sam to a table in the back of the saloon. Yanking out a chair facing the wall to ensure her some privacy in the crowded hangout, he settled Sam in her chair then made a point of pulling his chair up next to her. Touching his knee against hers, he was gratified at her involuntary shudder.
Grinning at her, he said, “What’s your poison, Chief Delgado?”
Sam was saved from answering by the arrival of a huffing, corpulent giant aptly named Tiny. The bartender’s dark brown, moon-shaped face and minimum of five chins bobbled in amusement at the sight of his guests. His deep voice matched the size of his three hundred-pound-plus adipose-armored body.
“My, my, my. Never thought I would see the day when my favorite little Indian chief would arrive with the big bad poleeze commander. Waddid you do, Jake? Arrest her? Or, hell, did she arrest you for slummin’ on the rez?”
