“I see.” Raven lowered her head. Her black hair veiled her face. Not narrow, like Clayton’s hawkish looks. The hollowed cheeks, delicate long nose, and tapering chin complemented Raven’s smoky eyes and wide mouth. A traditional diamond-shaped face, like the Indigenous people of the old days.
No wonder she’d stolen a glimpse at Jude when she’d removed her parka. Raven was probably used to men gawking at her wherever she went. If the fashion designers ever took a chance on hiring Indigenous women to model, they’d be scrambling to photograph Raven.
Why was he still thinking about her anyway? This was ridiculous.
Jude plopped in the chair. If she didn’t require assistance on her lessons, she should’ve finished her assignments at home. All Raven had done was make him stay late.
Nine o’clock. Class over. Two hours of reading through files and catching up on work while Raven had done her assignments. Jude slid the files into his briefcase.
Raven looked up at the clock.
Jude stood and closed his briefcase. “How’d you do?”
“Great.” Raven shut her notebook and textbook. “I finished my lesson. Only five more to go.”
“Well, you showed dedication by coming here tonight. The other four didn’t even call to explain their absence.”
“Get used to it. You’re on an Indian Reserve. Nobody calls or confirms anything. Or shows up on time.”
“You showed up on time.” Jude motioned at the clock. “Five to seven.”
Raven’s husky chuckle matched her voice. She slunk into her parka like Marilyn Monroe shimmying into a fur coat. “I’d better text my sister. Hopefully bingo’s done.”
“That where she is?”
“Yeah. They all went, except for Clayton.”
Jude slid on his own parka. It’d be a cold walk home, even if his place was only a road over. The weather could force a polar bear to pack up and head for the Bahamas.
“I have to get Fawn.” Raven checked her phone. “I’m using her truck. They’re finishing the blackout. They should be done in about another twenty minutes.”
Jude headed for the classroom door. The bottoms of Raven’s mukluks brushed against the floor. He turned off the lights.
They meandered down the hallway. He wasn’t in a rush, and she didn’t seem to be either, maybe because of the bingo thing.
Percy, the evening custodian, had probably called it a night. Once someone went outside, there’d be no going back in, because the doors automatically locked behind them, except Jude could reenter, since he had a key.
“You don’t have a vehicle yet?” Again, her husky voice scratched at Jude’s flesh, kitten claws playfully nicking him.
“No. I’m getting it this weekend when I get my kids.”
“How many do you have?”
“Two.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. How old are they now?”
“Seven and eight. My daughter, Rebekah, we call her Becky, is in grade two. My son, Noah, is in grade three.” This was weird. Raven didn’t seem like the enemy. Polite. Asking perfunctory questions anyone else might ask to fill the gap as they walked to the main doors. The only shot she’d got in was the history curriculum not including enough about the Indigenous people.
“What about you? Any children?”
“No. There’s still lots of time. I’m only thirty-one.”
“You were two grades ahead of Emery?”
“Yep. But you know how it goes. You stick to people your own age in school.”
“True.”
They reached the end of the hallway.
Jude pushed on the door.
Whenever emotion didn’t fill Raven’s words, her sandpaper voice became a caress, warm against Jude’s ear, even when she stood a foot away from him.
“Ladies first.”
Raven edged outside, glancing around. She’d already pulled up the hood to her parka. A scarf hid her slim chin.
The chill bit at Jude’s exposed face. Funny how people assumed extreme cold temperatures made a person freeze. Not true. The icy air hurt. Even burned.
“C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.” Raven’s truck already hummed, her having hit the starter from the classroom window.
“Sure.” A warm vehicle was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
They scurried to the truck, where white fumes rushed from the exhaust pipe, offering Jude a sniff of smelly gasoline.
He hopped into the passenger seat and quickly shut the door to a blast of hot air from the vents. He rubbed his gloved hands.
“I guess we got another week of this.” Raven also rubbed her mitten-covered hands together.
“Did you make those?” What she wore was stunning—perhaps crafted from moose hide. Fringed. Trimmed with red trade cloth and beadwork stitched into a floral pattern. Rabbit fur was sewn to the top and bottom of the cloth.
“Yeah.” She shifted gears. “My kokum made sure we all knew how. She taught my kokum, who taught my mom.” She backed out of the parking spot.
Many referred to their grandmother as kokum on the reserve. Jude never had. He’d never known his paternal grandparents. “Your grandma taught your grandma?”
“By your definition, great-grandmother. To me they were simply kokum. Both. She died when I was twelve.”
“That’s a long time for her to live.”
“She was like any other Anishinaabe-kwe, married when she left the residential school at sixteen. Had a family right away. But her kokum taught her how to dress a moose hide, how to hunt, set fish nets, harvest wild rice. All that stuff. My great-grandma was born on the trapline. She was Biidaaban. Then they forced her parents to give her an English name.”
“What does it mean?”
“Dawn is approaching. It’s when she was born, the approach of dawn, or so Mom told me.” Raven finally engaged the gear to drive.
They left the parking lot.
Jude’s chest sank. It’d been an interesting conversation. A pity they might not speak like this again.
* * * *
Raven wasn’t going to do all the talking. Jude had a mouth. She guided the truck onto the main road. “What about you? Why come live up here? You lived in the city your whole life.”
“The school needed a principal. Somebody who’d stay.” Gone was the understanding tone from seconds ago. Jude’s vocal cords had morphed to direct and full of authority. Too bad. There was a nice guy hiding beneath his Deacon Matawapit impersonation.
She shouldn’t have offered him a ride, but not to do so was rude. Nobody deserved to walk in the extreme cold, not even her supposed enemy. But how could Jude be classed as an enemy? True, he was a Matawapit, but he didn’t belong to Ottertail Lake, unlike Emery who’d arrived as a kid and made the community his home. Jude was more outsider than band member.
“I see. That was generous of you. I know teachers and principals in Ontario make excellent money. They probably have a good pension plan, too. I bet you made six figures.” Raven steered the truck onto the other road. Up ahead was the principal’s house.
“Sometimes it’s not about money.” The way Jude answered, he sounded like he was trying to convince himself he’d made the right choice.
“No regrets then?” Raven pulled up at the box-shaped house.
“None.” Jude lifted his briefcase off the floor. “Thank you for the ride.”
When he made no move to open the door, the saliva in Raven’s mouth vanished. The silhouette of his square jawline, aquiline nose, and sensual lips sent jitters down her spine.
In the old days, he’d be marked as a handsome and skillful hunter, capable of generously providing for his family. Not a hint of his white heritage lurked in Jude’s features or coloring. He appeared one hundred percent Anishinaabe.
“You take after your dad.” As much as Raven loathed to admit it, the deacon had aged well. Jude, upon reaching his sixties, would maintain his youthful handsomeness, too. Like most Anishinaabe men, he�
��d enjoy a lack of gray peppering his super-thick hair until his late seventies, maybe even his eighties. Kokum hadn’t grayed until her eighties.
“Is that a compliment?” His voice rose an octave, impish.
Raven hadn’t meant to flatter the guy, and her mouth remained dry. “I guess it is.”
“Thank you. The...” He cleared his throat. “The women of your family are also... nice.”
“Uh...” Nobody had ever called Raven nice. “You mean nice-looking?”
“I’m your adult education teacher. I’m attempting to, well, err... I don’t need to get slapped with a sexual harassment suit.”
“Oh yes, the suing thing.” Raven couldn’t help the laugh. “I can’t afford a lawyer. Go ahead.” She sat taller, waiting for the flirty words like all men lavished on her.
“Go ahead?”
“Say what you wanted to say. I won’t be offended or go running to the board.”
“Ookay.” Jude’s chuckle was as sexy as his handsome face and deep, smooth voice. “The women in your family are beautiful. You come from a line of attractive women.”
“That’s a neat way to put it. You’re really sharp at twisting it up, hey?”
“Twisting?”
“Instead of saying I’m super-hot, you said the women of my family are.”
Jude again chuckled. He fingered his thick, black brow, shaking his head. If it wasn’t so dark, Raven would probably catch a grin and some dimples.
“What?” She shook back her hair.
“I never had a woman demand that I tell her she’s pretty. You’re upfront, aren’t you?” Teasing lurked in his words.
“Always. Why not? Are you used to demure women?”
His chuckle vanished.
“I’m not demure.” Raven couldn’t help the slyness creeping into her tone. “If I want something, I ask. If I like someone, I tell them.”
“Bold, then?” If the interior lights were on, she’d probably catch a grin from him.
“Not bold. Honest.”
“Honesty’s a good trait. Blunt, too?” He sounded like he’d quirked his brow.
“I’ve been told. Some say I can be mean.”
“Mean?”
“Yep. If someone pisses me off, I can get mean. Maybe I’m the B word.”
“Look, we’ve never formally met until tonight. How about you let me draw my own conclusions?” His reply wasn’t an order, since warmth filled his words.
“Okay. I’ll let you draw them.” A ding sounded. “That’s probably Fawn.” Raven reached inside her pocket and withdrew the cell phone. She checked the message. Bingo was over. Mom and the others hadn’t won tonight, either. “Big sister awaits. I gotta bounce.”
“Enjoy the rest of your evening. I’ll see you on Thursday. Be sure to try to get caught up on all your assignments.” He shifted in the seat, completely facing her.
She faced him. “Will do. If I’m caught up at work and the diner’s quiet, Cookie lets me study. He knows how bad I want my high school diploma.”
“I’d like you to also graduate, Raven,” he said sincerely.
“I... I will.” Raven shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold.
“Then I’ll see you on Thursday.”
“Thursday. It’s a date.”
Chapter Five: I’ve Got You Fixed
Raven parked at the community center, located in the Sandy Point district. People scampered from the building, dashing to their running vehicles. Fawn bounded to the truck, her breath a fog of white in the air.
“Frick, it’s freezing.” Fawn slammed the truck door shut. She stuck her face in front of the vent. “I was crazy to go out tonight.”
“Did you at least win at the pull tabs?” Raven guided the truck through the parking lot, following a trail of vehicles.
“Nope. Nada. Nothing.” Fawn turned her parka pockets inside out. “All I got in here is lint.”
“That’s about all I’ve got, too.” Raven folded her lips.
“How’d your class go?”
“S’okay.” Tingles still coated Raven’s skin.
“Don’t be that way. Your lips are folded. You always do that when you’re hiding something.”
Older sisters. Raven hit the gas. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“Are, too”
“Am not.” Any other time, Raven would blab to her sisters about the latest stud who’d snared her eye, but this was different. Jude was a Matawapit.
It’d been ages since she’d last gotten under the sheets. For the first two years at the reserve, she’d concentrated on recovery. But this last year, her clit was leading the way, wanting some action. But there’d been no guy who’d claimed her attention... until Jude Matawapit.
* * * *
Jude sank in the recliner. He glanced at his mug, made a face, and sipped what should be a glass of scotch instead of the lemon tea he was forced to drink because of a dry reserve.
The fire in the woodstove crackled. Flames flickered behind the glass door. He set aside the mug and removed his sweater. The too-much-warmth vanished now that his arms were exposed. Hot. All because of Raven Kabatay.
She seemed a little on the sassy side, could probably morph into bitch-mode, too. He chuckled and tilted the mug. His buddies on the golf course always said those kinds of women could get wild in bed.
The picture of his children in a silver frame sat on the coffee table because he’d yet to find a place for it in the too-small living room, since the photo had once sat on his mahogany desk in his former study. He reached over, cradled the frame in his hand, and traced his thumb along their bright smiles. Trusting smiles. Smiles that had faded over a year ago after their mother had moved out.
He set aside the frame and stroked his mouth. The woodstove kept throwing heat at him. A smidgen of sweat broke out down his back. He shouldn’t have tossed in a helping of ash after he’d gotten home. Pine would have sufficed. He stood, carried the mug to the sink, and dumped the tea down the drain.
He circled the wood table and skimmed his fingers along the cushioned chairs. There wasn’t a chance he could engage in a fling, even though his dumb dick urged him to get selfish for a week or two. He pressed his crotch. Yep, half-hard. Some hand action while watching a video on his laptop of Dita Von Teese performing seductive burlesque should help.
He ground his fist on the table. If he dared to let temptation lead him in the wrong direction, for sure he’d get another slap across the face. And using a woman wasn’t right, even if she was offering.
His dick now pushed out against the sweatpants he’d changed into after arriving home. Yep, his cock thought different. The ol’ sausage wanted to go to the diner and hunt out Raven and her more than beautiful buns.
* * * *
Raven finished stacking the clean coffee cups on the tray. At ten-thirty in the morning, only a few people mingled in the diner. The cold had probably kept everyone else away. A flash of black caught her eye. She held tight to the dish rag. Her heart did a ba-bump ba-bump. Jude was here. She wasn’t supposed to see him until Thursday.
Her damned clit could remain hidden behind its protective hood. He might simply want a coffee break elsewhere from the school. Oh heck, never mind modesty. Men liked her. And so did Jude.
Just as the diner door swung open, Raven spared her reflection a glance in the window of the pop cooler. Everything was perfect—makeup, false eyelashes, hair neatly secured in place with a nice beaded barrette she’d crafted.
Raven swiveled on her comfy shoe sole designed for being on her feet all day. Too bad she couldn’t wear her favorite fuck-me heels. Rosy cold red flecked Jude’s dark skin. Even frost dusted his black eye lashes.
“I’m guessing you want something hot.” Uh, she hadn’t meant to toss out a double meaning, as she was prone to do, because she’d sincerely meant a cup of coffee or tea.
“Hot?” Jude’s slanted thick black brow quirked.
Ra
ven had guessed correctly about dimples when they appeared on his strong face. “Yes, hot. Can you think of anything... hot... on the menu?” Okay, that’d been intentional.
Jude’s dimples deepened.
“Well?” She held up the coffee pot.
“Hmm, besides coffee?” He continued to smile as he removed his parka and set the heavy coat over the back of the stool at the counter.
“Oh?” Raven used her sassiest voice. “And what are you thinking exactly?”
Turning over the mug, Jude winked. “You’re the student. It’s up to you to provide the answer, not me.”
“You know all the answers to the questions? And what other kinds of questions do you have for me?” Once Raven poured the coffee, she stared directly at Jude and stood straight in front of him. She set her free hand on the counter and clattered her nails.
His gaze roamed to her hand and then traveled upward, lingering on her apron and tucked-in blouse to highlight her super-slim waist. When his admiring peep settled on her breasts, she went hot and cold. Just as fast, his dark eyes drew back to hers. That was not a perverted gawk but a very appreciative gentleman admiration.
“You’re a master at your craft.” She almost had to draw out a fan in minus thirty-seven-degree weather.
“My craft?” He retrieved two creamers from the small bowl.
“I didn’t think you’d be so... smooth.” Raven giggled.
Jude chuckled. Red slid onto his cheekbones. He set his forearm on the counter. “Not smooth. I’m simply not the kind of man who...” The sound of his tongue clucking the top of his mouth echoed.
Warmth coated Raven’s skin.
“I guess it’s a good thing you’re a Catholic boy. Something tells me you’re capable of a lot of trouble.” Raven snatched a menu from between the sugar container and salt and pepper shakers.
“Nah. I did your usual high school and university mischief-making—”
“I never heard it called mischief-making.” She again giggled. He had a way of making her stomach tingle with laughter.
“I’m a principal. I make sure to use proper language. Remember, I was responsible for elementary-aged children.”
Sanctified Page 4
