Navajo's Woman

by Beverly Barton

  "Now, Andi, why don't you stay for dinner?" Joanna said.

  "I'm afraid I can't. I have somewhere I need to go."

  Right now?'' Joanna asked.

  "Right now," Andi replied.

  J.T. groaned, but then his lips curved into a smile. "You could give him until morning to cool off before you go after him."

  “If he gets any information on the boys' whereabouts tonight, he could be long gone by morning," Andi said. "I'm not going to give him the opportunity to go any­where without me."

  Chapter 4

  Joe knew the minute he walked into his four-room stucco house that Kate had been there earlier. She had cleaned the place and aired it out. A fire had been built in the fireplace, and both living room windows remained cracked open a couple of inches. He dumped his suitcase just inside the front door and quickly closed the windows, blocking out the cool evening air. He would check out the kitchen, bedroom, bath and back porch later. Right now, all he wanted was a few minutes of peace and quiet. No one asking, demanding, questioning. Back home less than ten hours, and he was already caught up in the same emotional storm from which he had run five years ago.

  He slumped down in a comfortable tan leather chair to the right of the fireplace, lifted his feet and rested them on the matching ottoman. These two pieces of furniture had been his first buy, right after building this small house for himself. He had loved his home, his job and his way of life. He'd been a Native son whom the Navajo youths had admired and emulated. Joe Ornelas had been the Na­tive American equivalent of the hometown hero. Hand­some. Intelligent. A star athlete. A Tribal police officer. A man dedicated to the Dine and traditional ways. He had greatly appreciated and enjoyed having the respect of his people and the high esteem of his family.

  He had always been proud of his Native American her­itage, his clan and his family. As part of a matriarchal society, a Navajo is born into his or her mother's clan. Joe had been born into the K'aahanaanii clan. The Living Arrow People.

  To the Navajo, the land is everything, and they believe that all living things are equal and sacred. He had lived his life by that code, respecting not only other humans, but animals and birds, trees and mountains. With each passing year, it became more and more difficult for the Dine to hold on to the old ways, to remain true to an ancient heritage. The boarding school experience, the Livestock Reduction Act and the land dispute issue with the Hopi, had divided the people over the years, making it almost impossible to blend traditional ways with a mod­ern lifestyle. Joe had tried to do just that, but he had failed.

  Friends and family alike had been divided in their opin­ion of what Joe should or should not have done when he discovered that Russell Lapahie had not only been cov­ering up his sister-in-law Lucille's husband's criminal acts, but had actually taken money for his silence. In a matter of days, Joseph Ornelas had gone from being a hero to being a traitor. Even one of his own cousins, Ray Judee, a friend since childhood, had turned against him. When swarms of area and national news media had shown up on the reservation after Russell's death, Ray had told Joe that by revealing what Russell had done, Joe had al­lowed the white world to see the worst side of the Navajo.

  Every unkind, unsympathetic word hurled at him had hurt, but none so much as Andi's bitter accusation that he'd been responsible for her father's death. She had turned against him completely. He had thought that they could share their grief and console each other. But Andi hadn't given him a chance to explain why he'd arrested her father, why he believed he had done the right thing. Less than a week after Russell's death, Joe had known he couldn't stay in New Mexico, couldn't remain on the Tribal police force. Raw with pain, anger and resentment, Joe hadn't known where to go or what to do. It had been his cousin J.T. who had gotten him the job with the Dun­dee agency in Atlanta, where J.T. himself had once worked. Without looking back, Joe had packed and taken the first available plane to Georgia. He'd left behind ev­erything he'd once held so dear—his heritage, his life­style, his family, and the woman he had loved.

  Seeing Andi again had been even more difficult than he'd imagined it would be. He had expected her unfor­giving attitude, but he hadn't expected still to feel some­thing for her.

  It's just lust, he told himself. From the moment you first met her, you reacted to her like a rutting bull. You wanted her in a way you'd never wanted another woman. And you still do. Admit it to yourself and deal with it. Whatever you might have had with Andi died the day Russell killed himself.

  Andi had made it abundantly clear that she didn't trust him. Hell, she even believed that he didn't care what hap­pened to Russ. But he did care. A part of him felt as if he owed it to Russell to help his son. Even if the boy is guilty? an inner voice asked. Now there was the rub. What would he do if evidence showed up indicating Russ had pulled the trigger? He'd be confronted with a similar di­lemma to the one he'd faced when he decided to do the lawful thing and arrest Russell. Damn! The only way he could come out of this without hurting Andi and her fam­ily even more than they'd already been hurt was if he could prove Russ was innocent.

  Eddie Whitehorn wished that he was home in his own bed. Warm. Well fed. Safe. With his parents keeping watch over him. With Summer and Joey pestering him. With a school day ahead and hard work on the sheep ranch to keep him busy and out of trouble. He wanted his boring, uneventful life back. He realized he had never appreciated how good things had been for him. Until now.

  If only he could go back twenty-four hours and change what had happened. Why hadn't he vetoed Jewel's idea of stopping by Bobby Yazzi's to pick up some beer? He'd known Bobby's reputation as a drug dealer. But Russ had assured him that he'd gotten beer from Bobby before, that lots of the kids did. Even the ones who didn't buy some weed or any of the hard stuff.

  Idiot, Eddie chided himself. What was he going to do now? He couldn't leave Russ, couldn't turn himself in and let Russ hide out on his own. They'd been best buddies since they were babies. Even when his uncle Joe had ar­rested Russ's dad, they had somehow managed to remain friends. Eddie understood Russ better than anybody else did. Russ wasn't a bad person. He was just a little mixed up. And he was a bit of a show-off. He liked being the center of attention, liked defying his elders, and loved having the girls think he was a real bad-boy. Guess he and Russ were as different as night and day. The last thing Eddie ever wanted to be was the center of attention. But right now, he'd bet he and Russ were the talk of Castle Springs, probably of the whole reservation.

  Eddie glanced across the interior of the stolen pickup truck at a sleeping Russ. They'd pooled what little money they had and filled the tank with gas, all the while hoping nobody at the trading post on the outskirts of Sawmill would recognize them. They'd kept to the back roads as much as possible and had prayed they could make it to their destination without running into the law. Every Tribal police officer on the reservation was probably look­ing for them. Did the police have orders to bring them in dead or alive? Eddie wondered. Stupid assumption. He knew better. The police wouldn't kill them—unless there was no other choice. Not unless Russ lost his cool and shot at the police.

  Eddie cringed at the thought. Russ had found a rifle in the truck. And a box of ammunition. Somehow Eddie would feel safer if Russ didn't have a weapon.

  Russ woke with a start. When he opened his eyes he saw nothing unusual. Only the moonlit interior of the truck's cab. So what had awakened him? Eddie sat with his head resting against the window, his mouth open as he breathed evenly in sleep. The only sounds were night­time noises particular to the desert regions of the reser­vation. They were as safe as they could possibly be, con­sidering the police were looking for them. He'd chosen this spot, off the road, hidden from the view of passersby, so that they could get a few hours of rest before going on to his uncle Jefferson's home, in a remote area in Arizona.

  If anyone could help them, his mother's uncle would. Russ was counting on the old man to hide them out for as long as necessary. If he could get in touch with Je
wel without tipping off the real killer, and she agreed to admit being with him and seeing who really killed Bobby, then he'd surrender to the police. But without Jewel to back up his story, there was no way he'd trust the law. In the meantime, he intended to do everything he could to pro­tect himself and Eddie from the man who had killed Bobby and was sure to either come after them himself or send someone to hunt them down.

  Russ imagined his mother was awfully upset. She hadn't been well since his father's death, and finding out that her son was wanted for questioning in a murder case was sure to be rough on her. If he could change what had happened, he would. But he and Eddie were in this mess up to their eyeballs. They had gotten themselves into a no-win situation. Correction—he had gotten them into a no-win situation.

  He supposed he should have called Andi. Eddie had wanted to phone his parents. But what good would it have done? Andi and Mr. and Mrs. Whitehorn would have in­sisted they come home and turn themselves in to the po­lice. He knew Andi loved him and wanted what was best for him, but sometimes she acted more like a parent than a big sister. He supposed that was because he didn't have much parental guidance—not that he listened to his mother, anyway.

  I'm not a bad kid, he told himself. I don't mean to keep screwing up. It just seems that I'm always making the wrong decisions. But this time, I've done the smart thing. I've made sure that Eddie and I are safe. For the time being.

  He promised himself that he wouldn't let anything hap­pen to his best friend. Eddie had stood by him time and again, when everyone else had turned against him. He owed Eddie a lot.

  Russ glanced out the window, up at the half moon in the dark night sky. He wished he were home. He wouldn't even mind listening to Andi come down hard on him for messing up so bad.

  Joe didn't realize that he'd fallen asleep in the chair until he heard the loud banging on his front door. Who the hell—? But before he even rose to his feet, he'd fig­ured out who his uninvited guest was. Who else would it be?

  Damn! What was he going to do with her? She was as tenacious as a bulldog with a bone. Getting rid of her would be just about impossible. All he needed to further complicate this already complicated situation was to be trapped with a woman who made his blood boil and thrust his libido into overdrive.

  Joe swung open the door. There she stood. Tall, slender and gorgeous, a phony smile plastered on her pretty face.

  “May I come in?'' she asked, as pleasant and civil as if he'd sent her a handwritten invitation to visit.

  "Do I have a choice?" Despite his annoyance, he just barely kept himself from grinning. As aggravating as she was, he couldn't help admiring her spirit, her determina­tion and her plain old stubbornness. Joe stepped aside to allow her entrance into his humble home.

  Andi barged past him into the house, then waited just past the threshold while he closed and locked the door. “We need to get things settled tonight. As you can plainly see, I'm not going away. Where you go, I go. And there's nothing you can do to stop me, short of killing me. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Crystal clear."

  "Then let's set down some ground rules."

  "By all means." He waved his hand in a gesture of welcome. "Have a seat."

  "Thank you." She plopped herself down on the brown corduroy sofa directly in front of the fireplace. "I hope you realize that I don't relish spending time with you any more than you look forward to enduring my presence. But we have a common goal, don't we? We both want to find Russ and Eddie. You have Eddie's best interests at heart, just as I do Russ's."

  Joe nodded, but he kept some distance between them as he looked at her. How was it possible that she'd grown more beautiful? More tempting? He hadn't exactly been celibate the past five years, but he'd never met a woman he'd wanted more than he did Andi. Maybe if they had consummated their relationship, he wouldn't be feeling this hunger right now. Could it be that the great unknown made her all the more alluring?

  And what the hell was she doing wearing the bracelet that he'd given her? He had inherited several pieces of silver-and-turquoise jewelry from his mother, the grand­daughter of Benjamin Greymountain, who had been a re­markable silversmith long before the Navajos were known for that specific craft. Joe had chosen the bracelet from his collection with great care, wanting something that would appeal to Andi and yet at the same time brand her as his own. Primitive emotions? Old-fashioned male possessiveness? Yes, he was guilty of both.

  Her twenty-fifth birthday had been special. A night out with her father and Doli, then a private celebration, here at his home. They had come so close to making love that night. But Andi had called a halt, asking him to be patient, to give her more time. She wanted him, she'd said, but she also needed to be sure that their relationship had a future. Despite her Navajo blood, he and she had come from two different worlds, and she wasn't sure they could ever reconcile the two. He had loved her all the more for being a woman to whom lovemaking meant a commit­ment.

  "You aren't saying anything." Andi snapped her head around and glared at Joe. "Are we in agreement or not?"

  "Sorry," he said. "I'm not quite sure what we're sup­posed to be in agreement on."

  Andi huffed indignantly. "Weren't you listening? I was proposing that you look after Eddie's best interests and I do the same for Russ."

  Here we go, Joe thought. She was accusing him of lay­ing all the blame on Russ again. Why was it that she couldn't believe he cared about what happened to her brother? It was as if five years hadn't been long enough for her to come to terms with her father's death and Joe's part in the tragedy. Would she never realize that Russell had had other options? He chose to commit suicide, to disgrace his family and leave them bereft.

  "Sure. That's easy enough," Joe said in order to pacify her, then added, “but it would be a lot easier if we agreed that we both care about the boys and want what's best for them. After all, it's going to be hard enough spending time together, without the two of us being constantly at odds. If we trusted each other—"

  "Ah, but we don't, do we?"

  Andi's gaze connected with Joe's, and for one split sec­ond he felt as if someone had hit him in the stomach with a two-by-four. He knew he was fighting a losing battle. He'd have to let Andi come along, join him in the search for the boys. If he went out alone and something happened to Russ, she'd blame him; she would convince herself that he was at fault. By letting her tag along, he ran the risk of either making love to her or strangling her. But some­how, he had to find the strength to avoid both.

  “J.T. is putting an ad in the Navajo Times. Maybe the boys will see it and contact us." Joe made his way closer to Andi and sat beside her, he on one end of the sofa and she on the other. "He's also been questioning all of Eddie's and Russ's friends. If they've contacted anyone, then no one's admitting it."

  "What about the girls they had a date with that night?" Andi said. "Do you have any idea who they were? I've asked Doli, and she doesn't know."

  “Kate and Ed said that Russ arranged the date, but all Eddie told them was that they were a couple of nice girls who lived in Castle Springs."

  The moment he heard Andi grunt, Joe realized that a verbal attack was imminent. She was too damn touchy about Russ, taking everything he said about the boy the wrong way.

  "Before you jump down my throat," Joe said, "I want you to know that I wasn't accusing Russ of anything, just because he was the one to arrange the double date."

  Andi slapped her hands down on her thighs, huffed loudly and took a deep breath. "Okay, this time I'll take you at your word. And I'll even admit that I might be overreacting about your blaming Russ. But you have to realize that I have good reason to not trust you."

  "I'll agree that we both believe we have good reasons to not trust each other."

  "What's our next move? Where do we start?"

  “We start by questioning family and friends again, see­ing if anyone has any idea where or to whom the boys might run. They're a couple of sixteen-year-old kids, with maybe twenty
-five dollars between them. How far can they get without help?"

  "You're right." Andi curved around so that she faced Joe as she relaxed her back against the arm of the sofa.

  "Is there anyone Eddie would go to for help, other than his parents?"

  "I can't think of anyone, other than some cousins, and J.T. has checked with all our relatives. What about Russ?"

  "My little brother is a loner. He isn't really close to anyone except Doli and me. And Eddie, of course."

  "We'll double-check with Doli, as well as with Kate and Ed, in the morning." Joe stood. "It's late. I'm tired, and no doubt you are, too. I don't mean to rush you, but why don't you go home and get some rest. You can meet me back here—"

  "I'm not going anywhere."

  "What?"

  "I said—"

  "I heard you." Joe scowled at Andi. "You aren't sug­gesting that you spend the night here, are you?''

  "I'm not 'suggesting' anything. I'm telling you. But obviously you haven't been listening." Andi patted the sofa cushion at her side. "You're not going to get more than a few feet away from me until we find Russ and Eddie. Starting tonight, I'm—"

  "I have only one bedroom, but if you'd like to share, I have no objections." He knew before he spoke that his words were inflammatory, that she'd go off on him the moment she heard his suggestion. If she could torment him by harassing the hell out of him, then he could damn well give her back a little of her own.

  When she glowered at him, her topaz eyes wide and glimmering with anger, Joe grinned. She hopped up off the sofa and gave him an eat-dirt-and-die glare.

  "I wouldn't share a bed with you if you were the last— I'll be quite comfortable right here on the couch, thank you."

  “Going to sleep in your clothes? I think I have an old T-shirt you can borrow."

  "I have an overnight bag in my SUV," she told him. "I drove back to my house in Gallup and packed, then called my assistant to take care of the shop for me while I'm gone. That's why it took me so long to get here."