Sworn to Protect

by Kimberly Van Meter

  He couldn’t bring himself to leave, not until he knew she’d at least slept a full eight hours and eaten a decent meal. If that meant he had to stay until that was accomplished, so be it.

  The road to recovery was long, but she wasn’t alone. He just had to remind her of that fact.

  Iris remembered laughing, enjoying a drink at the bar. The music had been loud and the lights dim. She remembered returning a smile, thinking the guy was good-looking and an excellent specimen for her objective, which had been to get Sundance off her mind. She didn’t want to be attracted to her best friend’s older brother. She’d known him her entire life, so why now? It was as if a light had been turned on in her head and suddenly she was seeing him in a completely different way. She’d never noticed his lean hips and wide shoulders or the way his mouth gentled when he let his guard down and actually smiled. No, she absolutely hadn’t noticed those things. Thank God. Like life wasn’t complicated enough?

  And yet…

  So Operation Distract Yourself had been going well.

  In her dream state, memory and fiction blended together to create a nightmarish landscape. Soon, the music blared to the point of creating pain in her ears. The lights strobed in dizzying seizure-inducing patterns and the sudden touch on her arm as she was pulled from the bar seemed welcome at first.

  But then the grip tightened like a vise and agony radiated through her body as the hand that had seemed friendly became aggressive and demanding. Her vision was fuzzy and unfocused. She couldn’t make out his features but she was nauseated by the blend of malice and excitement washing over her. Hands grabbing, punching, violating…

  She slapped at the phantom attacker, a scream caught in her throat, trapped and useless, until the scene shifted with a slow slide to endless black that was somehow less frightening and even soothing.

  At least when she was drifting in midnight, no one was hurting her.

  Chapter 4

  Mya, on break between patients at the clinic, peppered him with questions.

  “How’d she seem?” she asked, frowning as if she already knew the answer, which she probably did, and just wanted Sundance to confirm or deny. “She’s having a rough time still, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, you could say that,” he answered drily, still troubled over Iris’s departure from the human race. “She’s totally cut herself off from everyone and it’s not healthy. You of all people should know that. Mya…why haven’t you tried to coax her out?” Mya affected a wounded expression and tears welled in her eyes, making him realize he’d totally bungled that one and he tried to make amends. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s coming out of my mouth. The situation has got me all tied up in knots.”

  She rested her hand on his shoulder. “I know. And trust me, I tried. She won’t listen and I’m afraid to push her too hard. As a doctor I can be clinical about certain things but she’s my best friend and more like a sister. I can’t seem to separate my feelings. Any leads on who did this?”

  “No,” he admitted, frustrated. “But I don’t have much to go on with Iris’s memory of the event compromised. Have the toxicology reports come back yet?”

  “No, but it should be soon,” she promised. “I’ll call as soon as they do.”

  “Thanks. Listen, I’ve got an errand to do before heading back out to Iris’s house. I just stopped by to let you know that there’s a new guy in town, and before you say you’re not interested in meeting anyone, he’s not exactly a stranger. He’s an old friend of mine named Chad Brown, who’s been assigned to the area as the liaison to the Bureau of Indian Affairs.”

  “And how do you know him?” she asked, her brow lifting with faint interest.

  Sundance smiled. “He used to live here. We were friends up until he left in junior high and then we caught up to each other again after high school. He went the college route, while I went law enforcement. He’s a good guy. I think you’ll like him.”

  “Any relation to Paul Brown, the director of Indian Affairs?”

  “Chad is his son.”

  “Nice to have connections,” Mya quipped.

  “In this day and age, it absolutely is. But don’t hold the nepotism against him. He’s really made a name for himself in certain circles. He’s done a lot of good work out there for Native Americans. You could do a lot worse.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” was all she said to that. “I’m a big girl, Sonny. I don’t need you trying to find me a date. I can do that all on my own. Besides, with everything that happened to Iris, I can’t even think of dating.”

  “I’m just saying it’d be nice to know my sister has someone to take care of her if I’m not around.”

  She leveled a direct look his way. “I can take care of myself. Stop acting like you live in the time of our ancestors when women had to have a man to watch over them. I’m perfectly capable of caring for myself, thank you very much. Now, I have patients to see. Please give Iris a hug for me, and thanks for looking out for her.”

  “I’m just doing my job,” he answered gruffly, not comfortable with the spotlight or the implication that he was doing this out of more than a sense of responsibility to one of his tribe. “But in all seriousness, Chad’s a solid guy. Just think about it, okay?”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she answered in a tone that Sundance knew to mean she would purposefully forget as soon as he left the building. Mya had given her heart away years ago and she hadn’t yet recovered from it being shattered. He had hopes, though, and even if he wasn’t what he’d consider a matchmaker of any sort, he never passed up the opportunity to let Mya know what her options were. She waved and disappeared, her break over.

  Sundance climbed into his Durango. He had two stops to make before heading out to Iris’s house. One for food, another…security.

  Iris managed to shower and run a brush through her hair, but she couldn’t bring herself to open the drapes or windows. Each time she tried, panic seized her by the throat and choked the breath from her lungs. She huddled in her bed, staring at the window, wishing she had the nerve to open it and breathe the cool, cleansing air, but the thought of being visible to whoever might be out there filled her with immobilizing dread. The feeling of being trapped in her home had begun to manifest but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything about it. She couldn’t move forward or backward and her impotence was maddening.

  A knock sounded at the door and her heart jumped in her chest, banging so hard she thought for sure it might pop free, but when she heard Sundance’s voice she released a shaky breath and climbed from the safety of her bed to answer the door.

  She couldn’t say she was happy to see Sundance two days in a row at her darkest hour but she couldn’t rightly say she was disappointed either. Again, she was stuck somewhere in the middle.

  Iris opened the door and startled when a large black dog sat beside Sundance, eyeing her with the guileless curiosity only animals and babies possessed. “What…?” She gestured to the animal as she looked to Sundance for the answer. “A dog?”

  “A guard dog, specifically.” He patted the dog’s broad head, his hand firmly on the leash. “Saaski, meet Iris, Iris, this is Saaski. He’s a wolf-shepherd hybrid and once he’s bonded to you, he’ll take someone’s head off if they try to touch you without your permission.”

  Iris stared, unable to believe what Sundance had done. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “You got me a guard dog? Why? I mean…I don’t understand…”

  “You couldn’t sleep because you didn’t feel secure. I suspect it’ll be a long time before you feel totally safe, but until then, Saaski will do his best to make sure that no one gets near you without a fight.”

  She swallowed, her gaze reluctantly leaving Sundance’s to look at the dog. His thick, rich coat was as dark as sin with twin, burning coals for eyes. His face held the wise cunning of a wolf but he had the solid, muscular build of a German shepherd. She held out her hand to him and he sniffed at it before taking an exploratory lick. His heav
y tail thumped and wagged—the dog equivalent to a “Hey, I like you” greeting—and she smiled for the first time in a long time.

  She looked up and Sundance handed her the leash. “Thank you,” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper as gratitude overwhelmed her. How’d he know to do this for her? Why hadn’t she thought of it for herself? In the past her schedule didn’t lend itself to having much more than a houseplant or two but she knew the moment she looked into Saaski’s eyes, she’d do whatever she had to to accommodate her new companion. She didn’t doubt that this dog would protect her above all things and it meant more than she could voice that Sundance had done this for her. “Please come in,” she said, moving aside so he could enter. “Are you hungry? I have, like, twenty frozen casseroles of some sort that Mya brought. I don’t know what they are but I’m sure they’re edible.”

  Sundance closed the door but declined her offer. “I can only stay for a few minutes. The breeder I got Saaski from runs an obedience and defense class in Forks. I want you to take it with Saaski. It’ll help you bond with him. Plus, the commands he’s been taught are in Navajo, so you’ll need to know how to control him using the commands he already understands. He’s a young dog still, only a year old, but the breeder said he’s smart and with the right training, he’ll be better than any house alarm you can buy.”

  She ran her fingers through Saaski’s coarse fur. “Is he housebroken?”

  “Well, he’s kennel trained and I brought the kennel for you. It’s in my Durango.”

  “He sleeps in a box?” she asked, frowning at the idea of putting this glorious animal in a cage. She shook her head. “He can sleep with me.”

  The corner of Sundance’s mouth lifted as if amused. “Somehow I had a feeling you’d say that. All right, I’ll put the kennel in the garage and if you need it, you know where to find it. I also bought a small bag of food to get you through to when you could get to town to buy a larger one.”

  She chewed her lip, hearing what he wasn’t saying. Sooner or later she’d need to step outside of this house, if only to purchase dog food.

  Sundance cleared his throat, adding, “But this bag should last you a few days.”

  So she had a few days to get used to the idea of venturing out on the reservation. The thought gave her an unpleasant chill, but she nodded slowly. Of course Sundance was right, she couldn’t hide forever no matter how appealing the thought.

  “He’s beautiful,” she said softly. “What does his name mean?”

  “The breeder said it means ‘of two worlds.’”

  “Appropriate,” she murmured, continuing to stroke the dog’s fur, blinking back tears. She felt caught between two worlds, too. Her previous world and her reality. She met Sundance’s stare and her breath hitched in her chest. What did he see? Did she want to know? She pushed her hair behind her ear, glad for the shower she’d taken this morning. “Sundance…about yesterday…” She stopped, the words seeming to dry up on her tongue. How did one thank another for forcing them to return to the land of the living? It’s not as if she and Sundance had been close. Yet, his message had come through loud and clear when she’d managed to effectively block out everyone else, including her best friend.

  “Not necessary,” he started, but she cut him off with quiet determination.

  “It is necessary,” she disagreed. “I know I need help. I’ve seen enough traumatized women in my profession to recognize the signs but I never realized it would be so difficult to pick up the pieces and try to move forward. Each time I thought about dragging myself out of my bed toward reclaiming my life, an overwhelming terror took over and I would end up a shaking, crying mess. It became easier to just accept that inside equaled safety, out there—” she gestured outside “—meant danger.” Tears pricked her eyes as she admitted, “I’m such a coward.”

  “You can get through this,” he said, holding her stare without reservation. She saw strength, determination and even a hint of anger in those familiar eyes, and she drew comfort in knowing Sundance was ever the same, even if she had changed irrevocably. “And don’t you dare bow your head in shame. You did nothing wrong. Remember that.”

  Her breath caught and she started to shake her head, a litany of reasons why she was to blame came to her tongue but she swallowed the instant response and jerked a short nod. “I’ll try.”

  He seemed satisfied with her answer and the rigid set of his shoulders softened just a little as if he’d been holding back a tremendous wind at his back, or shielding her from some terrible calamity. Moisture blurred her vision again and she realized tears would never be far from the surface when she dared to broach this subject with him or anyone.

  “I’m going to find who did this to you,” he assured her in a quiet but hard voice and she didn’t doubt his sincerity. Sundance had always borne the weight of his responsibilities with stoic resolve. He was hard as granite, as unrelenting as a puma on the hunt. She held no illusions that he wouldn’t turn that focus on her when he felt it was time. And apparently he’d felt the time had come. “Iris, I need a formal statement from you about that night,” he said.

  A shaky smile from suddenly numb lips formed as she shrugged. “Formal or informal, I’ve told you everything I remember, which isn’t a lot.” The memory of someone giving a god-awful rendition of Aerosmith’s “Dude Looks Like a Lady” banged around in her head for a moment. She could smell the alcohol that had splashed on the bar, the sour perspiration of too many bodies and the faint scent of something sharp and tangy—cologne perhaps—but then nothing. She cleared her throat when it felt as if something were stuck there. “I’m sorry…it’s just blank. The stuff I remember…it’s nothing of value.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  “Sundance, trust me, there’s nothing there unless bad singing can be considered a crime.”

  His mouth firmed. “Whoever did this to you was in that bar. Someone was watching and waiting for the right person. Did you talk or dance with anyone?”

  Sweat popped along her hairline and she wiped at it with shaking hands. Music throbbed in her head, the laughter and alcohol went hand in hand. She’d been having fun. She’d gone alone to The Dam Beaver, the only bar actually on the reservation, not the least bit apprehensive about being by herself for it would’ve been like being afraid of her local grocery store. “I…I don’t remember,” she stammered, feeling sick. “There were a lot of people that night. Karaoke. Singing. I was laughing at…someone.” She rubbed at her forehead, the nausea rising in her throat. “I was thirsty. It was so hot…I ordered a club soda with lime because I knew I’d have to drive home eventually.”

  “So you’d stopped drinking at some point. How much had you drank at that point?”

  “I was tipsy but not drunk,” she answered, trying to remember, though her head had begun to spin. “I can’t do this right now. I feel sick,” she said, dropping Saaski’s leash to run to the bathroom. She slammed the door and put her head in the toilet in just enough time to lose the little food she’d eaten from earlier.

  As the heaving subsided, Iris shuddered and rested her forehead on the cold porcelain, devastated by her body’s knee-jerk reaction to the trauma she’d been through. She knew she suffered from post-traumatic stress. From a clinical viewpoint she recognized the signs but as the person soaking in her own sweat over a memory flash, she couldn’t remain in that detached, clinical state.

  She dragged her hand over her mouth and rose on shaky legs to rinse the sour taste away. She stared at the door, knowing Sundance was still out there, waiting for her. Her eyes squeezed shut as she willed strength into her legs, prayed for some semblance of control, and when it didn’t happen, she cursed her weakness with all the bitterness she could muster because she was fairly certain she’d never be the same again.

  Sundance winced as he heard her retch from behind the closed bathroom door. The reaction had been almost instantaneous. He felt helpless and useless, standing there with a dog leash in his hand w
hile Iris barfed her guts out over a simple question. He muttered an expletive and Saaski cocked his head at him. Restless with the need to do something productive, he went about the business of filling a bowl of food and water for the dog. Then he went to the Durango and put the kennel in the small garage. As a habit, he did a perimeter check and double-checked the lock on the side door. Satisfied things were secure, he returned to the house to find Iris curled on the sofa, stroking Saaski’s fur. She didn’t immediately look at him when he walked in—embarrassment, he supposed. Mya was always telling him to be more sensitive.

  “You feeling okay?” he asked.

  She shook her head, her eyes and cheeks red and splotchy from retching. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear on you like that.”

  “Don’t apologize. You’ve been through a major trauma. Nobody expects you to bounce back immediately. Least of all me.”

  She looked at him, surprise in her gaze. “Really?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then what’s with the dragging me out of bed, bringing me a dog and suddenly caring about my mental health?”

  He supposed hers were valid questions. He was acting out of character. He couldn’t very well tell her that his head was a muddled mess about certain things. The woman had enough to deal with, she didn’t need his drama, too. But if he had the guts, he’d tell her that seeing her so broken made him want to break the law and nothing made him want to do that. He wanted to find that rotten SOB and make his life a living hell for what he’d done to her. All the things he prided himself on—being the responsible, dependable one with a cool head—went right out the window when he saw Iris hurt. But hell, no! He couldn’t say that because he didn’t know what to make of it himself. Looking away, he shrugged in answer. “Maybe I don’t like the idea of sparring with an unarmed person.”