“I sure am. My grandmother’s name was Natasha Light-foot, and she was a full-blooded Papago. They’ve since changed the name to Tohono O’odham. There’s a plateau with a sacred cave next to the reservation. Her family used to own the plateau and it’s named for them.”
“Do you know how to ride a horse? And shoot a bow and arrow?” The little boy’s voice contained the same type of reverential awe often reserved for superheroes and sports stars.
“I sure do.” Shane took in the fascination that covered Bobby’s face. An odd sensation invaded his consciousness, a strange sort of tremor that started deep inside him and radiated throughout his body. He ventured a question, not sure exactly where he was going with it or even if he should ask it. “Would you like me to teach you how?” Another thought occurred to him, one that left him slightly unsettled. “If it’s okay with your mother, that is.” A surprising and unusual affinity with this little boy had been creeping up on him from the moment Bobby had turned around and asked him who he was early that morning. Was he starting something that couldn’t be finished?
Bobby exuded excitement. “Yeah, I’d like that!”
“First we have to make sure it’s okay with your mother,” Shane repeated. He turned his attention to the items still on the floor. “But for now, let’s finish putting these things back where they belong.”
Shane placed the various items on the shelves, all but two. Bobby had held on to the drum and one of the Kachina dolls. Both were very old and valuable.
Bobby put the Kachina doll on the floor and turned his attention to the drum. Shane picked up the doll and carefully placed it on the coffee table. It was one of the few items he owned that had at one time actually belonged to his grandmother, a woman he never knew. She had died when his father was only eighteen.
What few possessions his grandmother had owned had finally been distributed among her grandchildren—his cousins, Jason and Tyler Fortune, his brother, Riley, and his sister Isabelle. The one possession that should have been his grandmother’s was the one thing Shane wanted most—Lightfoot Plateau. The plateau and the cave were believed to have mystical powers. The Lightfoot family had been guardians of the plateau for centuries. One way or the other, he planned to have it back in the family.
Shane held up the Kachina doll. “Do you know what this is?”
Bobby took the doll from Shane’s hand. He studied it, then made his pronouncement with all the authority of an expert testifying in court. “It’s a Indian—a special one like the chief.”
Shane smiled at Bobby. “That’s very good, but he’s even more special than that. This is a Kachina doll—”
“A doll?” Bobby scrunched up his nose. “Like girls play with?”
Shane suppressed a laugh. “No, more like your cowboy action figures. They’re dolls.”
Bobby’s next words were almost a whisper, as if he didn’t want Shane to hear them. “They aren’t dolls. They’re cowboys!”
Shane took the Kachina from Bobby, handling it carefully. His manner turned serious. “This isn’t a play toy. A Kachina is a carved doll in a costume representing a spirit that has a special meaning for the tribe who believes in that spirit.”
“It’s not a toy? You can’t play with them? What do you do with them?” The enthusiasm in Bobby’s voice conveyed his fascination.
Shane tried to simplify the explanation so that Bobby would be able to understand. “The Native Americans who have the Kachinas believe that everything in the real world has a spirit that lives inside it. The Kachina dolls represent that spirit. The dolls depict men dressed in Kachina masks for special ceremonies where they call on the spirit of the Kachina.” He paused for a moment as he ran his fingertips gently across the costumed figurine.
“The Kachina doll has a very special meaning for a tribe. This one belonged to my grandmother. It’s usually given to a child as a gift. A friend of my grandmother was a Hopi. She gave the Hopi Kachina to my grandmother, who gave it to my father, and my father gave it to me.”
Bobby’s eyes grew wide with astonishment. “Gosh.” He reached out and touched the Kachina, but did not try to take hold of it.
Cynthia stood at the door to the den taking in the scene and the conversation between Shane and Bobby. It was a scene that should have warmed her heart—her son and his father enjoying a special moment together. But it didn’t. Instead it sent a cold shiver through her body, followed by a surge of fear. She desperately wanted to put a stop to what she saw, but she couldn’t do it without creating an awkward situation. Shane was obviously taken with Bobby, a reality that threatened her to the very core of her existence. And equally disturbing was the fascination Bobby seemed to have for Shane.
She blinked back the tears, trying to bring some calm to her shaken nerves and emotional turmoil, and entered the room. “I had the news on upstairs while I was unpacking. They announced a story on the construction of Fortune Memorial Children’s Hospital in the next segment, right after the commercial.” She turned on the television set, hoping the distraction would stop what she could plainly see was the beginning of a bonding between Bobby and Shane.
Shane was Bobby’s father. Did she have the right to deny either of them that special father-and-son relationship? Or to deny her son that Native American part of his heritage that he seemed so fascinated with, something she’d noticed even before they’d left Chicago? She tried to shove the concerns aside, to tell herself there were far more important issues at stake. A twinge of guilt etched a path through her consciousness, taking up residence next to her anxiety. If only she had a clear-cut solution to her dilemma that would satisfy everyone’s needs—one that would be safe.
Shane moved closer to the television, drawing her attention to the newscast. The scene was the construction site of the hospital, but the story was about something else. It was a follow-up to a story about the construction fore-man’s accidental death being reclassified as murder.
The reporter went from that story to a segment about the Fortune Memorial Children’s Hospital, which was followed by a taped interview with Dr. Shane Fortune in which he talked about the hospital project and then presented his concerns for the future of Lightfoot Plateau. Cynthia listened intently, taking in every word Shane said about the family’s desire to give back to the community through the construction of the hospital.
When the segment concluded, Shane angrily snapped off the television. She could hear the disgust in his voice. “They certainly went out of their way to make sure the family name and the hospital project were thoroughly en-twined with Mike Dodd’s death. It was bad enough when his death in the elevator fall several months ago was thought to be an industrial accident at a Fortune Construction work site, but now that it’s a murder case, they seem to be reveling in it. It’s getting more and more difficult these days to find any difference between legitimate news and tabloid journalism.”
Cynthia’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand the public debate over Lightfoot Plateau. There seems to be a faction strongly in favor of preservation and another faction equally adamant in their desire to see the land developed.” She turned to face Shane. “Isn’t the land privately owned? Why would there be a public debate over it?”
“Yes, it’s privately owned.” His response carried the same note of displeasure she’d detected when he’d commented on the news story.
“I don’t think I ever told you the story of the land. When my grandmother became pregnant by Ben Fortune, her family practically disowned her. Not only was she not married to Ben, he was still married to Kate Fortune and had no intention of getting a divorce. Natasha’s family said she had disgraced them. They would not allow the land to stay in the Lightfoot family so that she would inherit it, especially when it meant that Ben Fortune might end up owning it.
“They sold Lightfoot Plateau to the Rowan family who still owns it. The land is adjacent to the hospital site and also borders the reservation. The Rowans have allowed the cave entrance to fall into disrepa
ir, but their son, Brad, has agreed to return the plateau to the Fortunes when he marries my sister, Isabelle. Contrary to Brad’s plans, I want to restore it and preserve the area as a place of historical significance for the various Native American tribes in this area.”
She saw the determination in his features, the same type of dedication and all-out involvement in a cause she’d seen years ago. Once he made a commitment to something, nothing could deter him. A rush of sorrow caught her un-prepared, tipping her delicately balanced emotions off center again. The sadness pushed at her reality. He had obviously never been committed to their relationship or to a shared future—certainly not the way she had been. She forced the upsetting thoughts from her mind and tried to shake off the disturbing feelings.
Cynthia glanced at Bobby. He was studying the pictures in a book he had taken from the shelf. If Shane had not been committed to their relationship, he would not have been committed to their son, either. Was she grasping at straws? Desperately searching for something to justify her decision to hide Bobby’s true identity from him? She didn’t think so, but that little shred of uncertainty still lingered at the back of her mind.
“Well—” Shane’s voice broke into her thoughts “—I need to get going. I have a finance committee meeting for the Children’s Hospital, then I need to do rounds at Pueblo General. I, uh, well, I have plans for this evening, so I won’t be home for dinner.”
“That’s quite all right.” Had her words come out too quickly? She attempted to explain. “I mean, I don’t want our staying here to interfere with your usual routine.”
“I guess I’ll see you later tonight.” Shane hurried out of the den and up the stairs to his bedroom.
It had been an odd interlude and it left him unnerved, although he wasn’t sure exactly why. The conversation had turned to a topic that did not involve dredging up moments from their past union. Yet a tingling undercurrent of heated desire continued to race through his body. His breathing quickened and his pulse jumped.
He didn’t have any plans for that evening. He wasn’t even sure why he said he had. The only thing he was certain of was his need to get out of that room. The walls had started to close in around him. He needed to go someplace where he could think without the very real distraction presented by Cynthia McCree’s presence.
The undeniably disconcerting affect she had on his senses left him as much bewildered as it did longing to renew their affair. It was an idea that had often crossed his mind and inflamed his desires, but it had been safely tucked away as something that could never be. He had never gotten her out of his system, but he thought he had reconciled himself to the fact that she was no longer part of his life. Then when he’d found her in his house in the middle of the night, everything had come rushing back at him. She had changed a great deal over the past six years. She was every bit as desirable, but now it was combined with a new maturity and confidence.
There was also her son and the unanswered questions about the little boy’s father. And there was that empty feeling inside him that had never gone away.
He dressed quickly for work, then hurried downstairs. He paused at the bottom of the staircase and glanced at Cynthia in the den. His heartbeat picked up again. Everything meshed together in one baffling tableau of what had been, what was now and what could be. It left him utterly bewildered.
He turned away. There was no need to have any further conversation with Cynthia before he left for work. He went through the kitchen and into the garage, then tried to collect his thoughts as he drove to the hospital. He needed to talk to Kate. He could not imagine why she’d offered the use of his house to Cynthia.
He had even gone so far as to compound a tenuous situation by insisting that she stay until she could get her business matters settled. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to do that, and it had probably been a really bad idea. But was it one he would live to regret?
Three
“What’s the matter, Mommy?” Bobby asked worriedly as he placed his fire truck on the patio table in front of her.
Cynthia opened her eyes. “It’s nothing, honey.” Bad enough that her decision to keep Bobby’s identity from Shane had already laid a heavy dose of guilt on her. Now she’d compounded that guilt by allowing her son to see her weakness and despair. “Mommy just has a bit of a headache, that’s all.”
“Why does your head ache? Did you hurt it?”
She couldn’t resist grinning as she wrapped her arms around her son and gave him a loving squeeze. No matter how bleak things seemed or how distraught she felt, all she had to do was hug Bobby and the world suddenly became a brighter place. “I guess I did. I hurt it by thinking too much about your grandpa’s belongings. Taking care of his things is going to take more time than I thought.”
She had spent the day working on her father’s estate. She had gathered his papers and business effects from his apartment, along with items of sentimental value. There was nothing else there that warranted the effort or expense of putting it into storage. She made arrangements to have the apartment cleaned out and the remaining items disposed of.
That left only the task of sorting out the tangled mess of her father’s estate. She had been shocked by the poverty-stricken appearance of his living conditions, yet the paperwork told a different story. What she’d thought would be a straightforward situation had turned into a time-consuming nightmare.
“Does that mean we can stay here longer?”
She looked at the eager expression on his face. “I...I don’t know. We’ll have to see what happens.”
“I like it here. Shane has neat stuff. He let me play his drum.”
She had to admit it had been a real blessing to have Shane’s house as her base of operation rather than a motel room. Bobby had been bored and fidgety while they were at her father’s apartment that morning, but as soon as they returned to Shane’s where he had his toys, the patio, the yard and the pool, he’d been content.
She broached the subject carefully, not wanting to suggest anything by her voice other than the meaning of her words. “You need to be very careful when you handle Shane’s things. They aren’t toys, and if one of them gets broken, it will cost a lot of money to replace it. Some of them are very old and can’t even be replaced.”
“I’ll be careful. Shane told me about the dolls, only they aren’t like dolls that girls play with. One of them belonged to his grandma. He let me hold it.”
Bobby’s fascination with all things Native American was yet another concern, one tied in with her uneasiness about her decision to keep his true identity hidden from Shane. Native American culture was part of his heritage, something he should know about. Would she be able to effectively introduce him to it without Shane’s becoming involved? She tried to shake away the negative thoughts and dwell more on the positive ones. Now that they were back in Pueblo, there were numerous places and ways to acquaint him with his heritage. As soon as everything was wrapped up and she had them settled in their own house, she would make that her number-one priority.
Bobby turned toward the pool. “I want to go in the water.”
She smiled at him while smoothing back his hair with her hand. “Tell you what. You pick up your toys and put them away in your room while I change into my swimsuit, and then we’ll both go into the water.” She stood up and quickly stacked all the papers she’d been working with into a file box and closed the lid.
She frowned as she glanced at her watch, then turned her attention back to Bobby. “It’s later than I thought, a little after five-thirty. I think it’s time to get ready for dinner. Aren’t you hungry?”
“No, I’m not hungry—honest. Can’t we go in the pool? Please, Mommy?”
She saw his disappointment. Knowing how much he loved the water, she relented. “How about this? You put your toys away and I’ll start dinner. Then while it’s cooking, we can go in the pool for a little bit. Okay?”
He grinned. “Okay.” He began gathering up his toys.
&nbs
p; Cynthia went to the kitchen and took several items from the refrigerator. They had been eating all their meals in restaurants ever since they’d arrived in Pueblo. She looked forward to having a leisurely meal she’d prepared herself. Shane had said he wouldn’t be home for dinner, so there would be just the two of them. She’d stopped at the grocery store on their way back from her father’s apartment and purchased some groceries. She quickly mixed a meat loaf and scrubbed a couple of potatoes, then put everything in the oven to bake. She would fix a salad and another vegetable in about an hour when it was time for them to eat.
With that handled, she went to see how Bobby was doing. “You need to take your toys to your room. I’ll help you carry them upstairs, then you can put them away while I change into my swimsuit.”
Ten minutes later they were in the pool. Cynthia called to Bobby from the deep end. “Okay. I’m ready.” The invigorating water washed over her skin, refreshing her lagging spirits and reviving her tired disposition. It was just the pick-me-up she needed to get her out of her despondent state of mind.
She treaded water and watched as Bobby enthusiastically ventured out to the end of the diving board. He waved to her, then jumped into the deep water. He kicked his way back up to the surface. As soon as he popped up, she was right there to give him any help he needed. She stayed at his side as he dog-paddled his way to the edge of the pool.
She marveled every time he took that fearless leap into the deep water. He had absolute trust in her. He knew she would always be there to help him. Even though she tried, she couldn’t stop her thoughts from wandering back to a time when she’d trusted Shane completely and totally. She’d believed he would never do anything to hurt her. It had been a long time ago, a lesson painfully learned. Those memories used to trigger instant anger. Now they brought sadness and distress.
She called to Bobby, who’d climbed onto the diving board again, ready to go. “Do you think you can jump all the way out to where I am?” She’d swum away a few feet. She hoped her son would never lose that ability to trust, that no one would ever take it away from.
Fortune's Secret Child Page 4
