by Jenna Kernan
“Because you still need me.”
Morgan’s mouth twisted at that. This was not the answer she longed to hear.
“I’m not your responsibility anymore. The FBI is protecting me now.”
He leaned forward in the chair at the side of her bed and gave her a long, hard stare. “Are you asking me to leave?”
“No.”
“Good. Because I’m not going. Not anytime soon.”
She told her foolishly thrumming heart that Ray was staying out of some sense of honor. Not love, she reminded herself.
“If Kenshaw did what you claim, he’ll answer for it. But he was right about one thing. You need someone to watch over you and for now, that someone is me.”
* * *
THE FBI HAD not wanted Morgan to leave her room but she had been up to use the bathroom a few times. Dinner had helped give her some much needed energy. Ray said the color was coming back to her cheeks.
That evening Dylan appeared with a change of clothing for Ray and some other necessities. His mother had also sent Morgan a simple two-piece camp dress for her to wear home. All Apache camp dresses consisted of a loose long-sleeved blouse and modest ankle-length skirt. The outfit was cool cotton and colorful. This one was royal blue and had a lemon-yellow rickrack on both yoke and which repeated around the skirt.
“She’d heard about what happened and wanted Morgan to have something clean for the journey home. This was my sister’s. She wore it when she was mentoring Paula Fields on her sunrise ceremony.”
It was a very thoughtful gift.
“That’s nice. We’ll see it gets back to your mom.”
“I’ll bring it in to her, all right?”
Ray trusted Dylan to keep watch over Morgan while he stepped out for a few minutes.
“I’ve never seen him like this,” said Dylan.
“Like what?” asked Morgan.
Dylan grinned. “In love, Morgan. Hasn’t he told you?”
Her heartbeat blipped louder on the monitor as she shook her head in denial.
“You’re wrong, Dylan. He is just worried about me.”
Dylan’s boyish grin remained. “If you say so.”
“Knock. Knock,” said a male voice from outside the room. A moment later field agent Luke Forrest entered with his partner, Cassidy Cosen.
Dylan lifted his phone and called Ray who appeared before Forrest had finished the pleasantries of asking how Morgan was feeling. Cassidy told her that Lisa was well and passed on a letter from her.
“I have a daughter. She just turned thirteen,” said Agent Cosen.
Thirteen was an important age for Apache girls and Morgan knew Cassidy Cosen’s daughter was Black Mountain Apache. Some of Morgan’s friends had even attended her daughter’s sunrise ceremony because the invitations had been sent far and wide.
Morgan accepted the letter with thanks and was reading the contents when Ray reappeared. She finished and pressed the page to her chest over her heart.
“Can I speak to her?” Morgan asked Agent Forrest.
“You can see her,” said Luke. “Just as soon as you’re released, which we think will be tomorrow.”
“What about protection?” asked Ray.
“Not necessary. We have credible intel that Morgan and Lisa are no longer in danger.”
“What intel?” asked Dylan.
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say. But we believe that the men Morgan met in the canyon are satisfied that Morgan is ignorant of their identity and does not know who hired her father to murder Sanchez.”
Agent Cosen spoke up. “That means she does not need our protection or the US Marshals Service to provide witness protection. She’s not a witness to anything and her father wisely told her nothing.”
Forrest took over. “All of the money has been recovered and we have advised the public of this with a press conference. You can see it on the local news again at eleven.”
“What about the police in Darabee? Chief Rowe can’t have been alone over there,” asked Dylan.
“Very good, Mr. Tehauno. I really was serious about recommending you for the FBI. I wish you’d consider my suggestion to apply.”
Ray’s friend flushed and nodded.
“To answer your question,” said Cassidy Cosen, “it’s an ongoing investigation. We can’t discuss that. But we can say that we are as certain as possible that it is safe for Ms. Hooke to go home. We’ll keep the agent here overnight as a courtesy and escort her back to Turquoise Canyon tomorrow.”
“Are you still using her as bait?” said Ray.
“Absolutely not,” said Forrest.
Ray and Dylan exchanged a look and Ray nodded his acceptance of the FBI’s assurances.
Morgan waited for either Dylan Tehauno or Ray to mention their suspicions about Kenshaw Little Falcon. She would not be the first. Accusing a man of such a thing was serious but made more so by the fact that he was a fellow tribe member. She knew that tribal matters were often handled by the tribal courts and Detective Bear Den was on his way to speak to him. It was rare that a member of their tribe was turned over to the state for prosecution and she could not think of one instance where a tribe member was given to federal custody.
The FBI departed and Morgan asked Ray about it.
“I’m giving Jack time to speak to Kenshaw. We’ll let the Feds know in the morning and I’ll be here until then.”
She had Ray for one more night and she was going to be spending it in a hospital bed. What a waste.
Morgan made a promise to herself. The next time she and Ray were alone, she would reveal her true feelings. He had told her that he was not the kind of man to settle down. Morgan prepared to have her heart broken once more but her fears would not muzzle her because the only thing more frightening than telling Ray that she loved him was not telling him.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ray spoke with Luke Forrest the following morning in the hallway outside Morgan’s room while she met with the nurse to sign her release papers. Forrest informed him that Gifford’s father, Renzo Journey, was a suspect and under FBI surveillance. “He didn’t send his son after Morgan, but we are fairly sure that Gifford got his information from his father and then acted alone.”
“How did the other men in BEAR find out what Gifford was up to, then?”
“We believe that Renzo notified them.”
Ray digested that. The FBI believed that Renzo had turned over his own son to BEAR. He must have known what would happen. He glanced at Forrest. The lowered brow and the perfect clarity of his expression told Ray that was exactly what had happened.
“I’d never turn over my own son,” said Ray. Not that he had a son. He glanced toward Morgan’s room and wondered briefly if she wanted more children. Lisa was fast becoming a teenager. Her daughter would be more like an auntie than a sibling. Changing diapers while raising a teenager wouldn’t be easy. Ray rubbed his neck.
“Strong?”
He turned his attention back to Forrest.
“I was saying that Morgan is in no danger.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“Not at—”
Ray finished the familiar refrain. “Liberty to say. I know.” Ray scrubbed his knuckles over the stubble on his jaw. “Well you won’t mind if I stick around awhile to be sure.”
“Gifford is dead. The money is gone. A representative of BEAR told her that she’s safe. What do you want, a certificate? You’re done, Ray. I’m sure your shaman will tell you the same. Go home.”
That was just it. He didn’t have a home. He had a trailer up near the lake. He had a tribe and friends and the Yeagers who treated him like a son. But until he’d met Morgan, he had not realized that he did not have a home. And he wanted one. With her. Trouble was
he had no cause to stick around.
He knew Kenshaw would tell him to lay off it, if Jack hadn’t arrested their shaman.
“What about Jefferson Rowe?” asked Ray.
“Awaiting trial. He can’t hurt her.”
Ray wondered about one other threat. Ironically, it was the very same man who had sent him to Morgan. Worse, he was a fellow member of their tribe. Ray was not going to point the finger at his shaman and the leader of Tribal Thunder no matter what Jack thought Kenshaw had done.
But what if not speaking endangered Morgan?
“What?” asked Forrest.
“Detective Bear Den had some concerns about...” Ray could not believe he was doing this. But if Kenshaw was dirty, he did not deserve protection. And Ray disagreed with Jack on one matter. Jack wanted to keep housecleaning on site. While Ray thought they might need an outside contractor.
“Concerned about?” echoed field agent Forrest.
“About how much inside information Kenshaw Little Falcon has on BEAR and WOLF.”
“Concerns?” Forrest’s impatience morphed into a look that showed apprehensions of his own.
“Kenshaw sent his brother down to Lilac to fetch his niece before the Lilac mass shooting. He sent me to Morgan just before it became known that her father hid all that money.”
“Why don’t you let us handle that?”
“Too late. Jack is still angry that he lost his twin brother, Carter, to witness protection. He said he’s going to arrest our shaman and bring him to tribal police for questioning.”
Luke Forrest had his phone out before Ray had even finished speaking.
“He can’t,” said Forrest.
“Why not?”
Forrest pressed his lips closed. He lifted his phone and used it to point at the agent guarding Morgan’s door. “Gutherie will see you to the border of the reservation.” Then he stalked away. Ray heard him issuing orders into his phone. He caught two words—cover and blown.
His brows lifted. Was Kenshaw working with the FBI? That, however, did not explain how he knew the plans of BEAR and WOLF before anyone else. It did explain why the FBI would want him as an informant.
Ray recalled that in February, after the shooting, Kenshaw and Carter Bear Den had been detained for questioning. Carter had gone into protection. Kenshaw had been released. Now he understood why. And Jack was going to arrest Kenshaw. That would certainly jeopardize any future intel Kenshaw might provide. And it might also endanger Kenshaw’s life.
Ray lifted his phone and dialed. Jack picked up on the second ring.
“What?” asked Jack.
“Where are you?”
“Eating breakfast with Kurt at Mom’s. Why?”
“You see Kenshaw?”
“Missed him last night. But I know where he’ll be today,” said Ray.
“Don’t go.”
“What? Why?”
“Trust me. Leave it for now. I’ll explain when I get up there.”
Ray heard a chiming tone.
“I got another call,” said Jack. There was a pause. “It’s Forrest.”
“Take it. Call me back.”
“Okay.” The line went dead.
Ray pictured Jack in his mother’s kitchen, putting two and two together. He wondered if Jack had ever sent in that sibling DNA test. Jack had told him that Carter had furnished a cheek swab. That was all he needed to learn for certain if he and his brothers shared the same father. Ray knew Carter and Jack’s mother, Annetta, very well. He could not picture the special education teacher cheating on her husband. And the chances of getting pregnant with twins, each by a different father had to be astronomical. But not impossible, Jack had told him. And Jack looked different from any of the other three boys. Carter, Kurt and Tommy were nearly interchangeable in looks, size and personality. But Jack had always been different.
Ray thought about Annetta Bear Den again and decided that you never really knew a person.
The nurse left Morgan’s room holding her clipboard. She nodded as she passed him. Ray found Morgan dressed and standing by the bed. He paused to take in the sight of Morgan dressed in so traditional a manner. The bright blue complemented her skin and the bands of pieced yellow fabric triangles formed a yoke at her neck. The bands repeated twice more on the skirt.
He switched to Tonto because it seemed right.
“You look beautiful.”
Her smile lit him up inside and out. He stepped closer and she slipped naturally into his arms.
“I can’t wait to get home and see Lisa,” said Morgan. “I know she is okay. But she’s never been away from home overnight and I just won’t feel right until I see her with my own eyes.”
He knew that when she had been in danger, he’d had reason not to let Morgan out of his sight. But now? The FBI said she was safe. She didn’t need him.
But what about him, about them?
Had there ever been a them, or was all that he felt and all that he longed for only what he wanted?
He had no doubts that Morgan deserved better than the likes of him. If he really loved her, he would let her go. Then Morgan would be free to find the sort of responsible, caring man who would make her a fine husband and good father for her girl. Upstanding, decent. A man like Jack or Dylan or the kind of man Hatch would have been.
Of course, Jack was too serious. Lord, did he ever laugh or crack a joke? Dylan was too predictable and upstanding to the point that he never did seem to make a mistake. And Hatch, well he was dead, so whatever kind of husband he might have made was lost in that distant blood-soaked sand.
Somehow he needed to do what was best for Lisa and for Morgan. He didn’t know how he would say goodbye without making a fool of himself. But he was going to try, because he loved Morgan and he wanted her to have the best. He knew only one thing with certainty—that was not him.
* * *
THE DRIVE BACK to Turquoise Canyon was uncomfortable. Morgan felt by turns as if she were traveling with a stranger and also someone too preoccupied to even notice her presence. He was preparing himself to leave her. She felt it with the same keenness she had the IV that had punctured her vein.
Morgan had been told that Lisa would be returned late in the day to her home. She wanted to be certain that she was there in time to meet her. Cookie was with Lisa, so when she opened the front door to her home, the house felt empty and far too quiet.
Ray followed her in, checking each room before returning to her where she waited in the kitchen. The look he cast her made her breath catch, for it was full of longing and heat and a pain that she had only glimpsed before. Now it was there, clear and tangible as an electrical storm. He was summoning the strength to leave her. While she needed to gather the courage to make him stay.
“I believe you’ll be safe now, Morgan,” he said.
“You’ve done your duty to your shaman and to me,” she said, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. And all she had to do to get it was risk everything by telling him that she was madly, hopelessly and foolishly in love with him.
“Do you need anything else from me?”
She stepped closer, her mouth dry and her palms damp. “Yes.”
His brow rose and he cocked his head as he watched her advance in small hesitant steps. She lifted her arms and looped them about his neck. He grasped her waist but she could not tell if he meant to pull her in or push her away.
“I need you, Ray Strong.”
He flushed. “You mean you want me to sleep with you?”
“Yes. Every night.”
Now his eyes went wide as her meaning began to sink in.
“What about Lisa?” he asked.
“She needs a father.”
Now he did let go and backed toward the kitchen door, which was the closest exi
t. With each step he shook his head in denial.
“Ray, if you don’t want me. If you don’t love me, then you should go. But if you are leaving because of some sense that you are not capable of being a husband and a father, I have hard news. You have been that to us already.”
“I haven’t even known you two weeks.”
“It’s enough for me to be sure that you are the one I’ve waited for all my life.”
He pressed his big callused hands to his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. Gradually he lowered his hands and straightened his shoulders. Then he opened his eyes and met her gaze. The pain was still there, making his eyes glassy.
“It’s not me, Morgan. You were under attack. You were alone. So it’s natural to turn to a protector. But you’re confusing your need with love.”
“I’m not confused, Ray. I know what I feel.”
“Are you forgetting that I deceived you?”
“You kept your word to our shaman. You did what he asked. I have secrets, too, Ray. I never told anyone but you about Lisa’s father because the truth made me feel stupid and used. You are entitled to your secrets. Everyone is. It doesn’t change my feelings.”
“I’m not husband material. I’ve been arrested. I’ve served time. If not for Jack and Dylan getting me help, I would have been dishonorably discharged from the US Marines. I don’t deserve you or Lisa.”
“Because you switched seats in that convoy with Hatch Yeager?”
His mouth dropped open and then snapped shut. But he found his voice had abandoned him. It was as if she had shot an arrow right to the heart of the matter.
“I forgive you in Yeager’s place. He would forgive you and want you to forgive yourself. It was a prank, Ray. You could not have known what would happen.”
“Of course I could. We were in a hot spot. They called that place the Triangle of Death.”
She stepped forward and pressed an open palm over his heart, feeling the steady beat in his chest.
“You have been nothing but tender and protective to my daughter. You have been nothing but conscientious and loving toward me. I refuse to believe that you did that as part of your assignment. You have feelings for me, Ray. I know it. And you are allowed to be happy. Allowed to make me happy because you did not die back there. And because you did not die, you have to live with your regrets. But you have to live.”
