Hunter Moon

by Jenna Kernan

  Clay felt the lump in his throat. His brother had carried this next to his heart for all these years. The ring his father had given his mother with his promise. A promise he did not keep. Clay knew that he would not ask Izzie to wear that ring.

  “That should go to your wife,” said Clay.

  Gabe nodded his agreement.

  “I don’t think I will marry. There is no one.” He shrugged.

  “That’s because you want to marry the next Miss Apache Nation,” said Gabe, but his kidding tone gained only a scowl from Clyne.

  “How are we going to survive as a people, if we don’t marry other Indians? We’ve got a culture to preserve and a responsibility.”

  It was another thing Clyne felt very strongly about, the survival of the Apache people.

  “Then you better get married and have lots of Apache kids,” said Kino.

  Clyne made a noncommittal sound and tucked the ring back into his pouch.

  Gabe clapped a hand on Clay’s shoulder. “Does Grandmother know yet?”

  “We told her.”

  “What kind of wedding?” asked Gabe.

  “Small, soon.”

  “And you’ll return to work with Donner?” asked Clyne.

  “Not sure. Izzie will need help with her cattle for a while. Until the boys are old enough to handle them.”

  “Will you live there?”

  Clay shook his head. “We want our own place.”

  “There is a position open on the tribal council,” said Clyne.

  Clay turned to Gabe to see his response, and then he realized Clyne was speaking to him. Clay laughed, thinking they were teasing him. Neither of his older brothers smiled.

  “Me?” he said, pressing a finger into his chest. “They don’t want me.”

  “Actually several of the council have approached me and asked me to speak to you about this. People of the tribe are all talking about you and your courage. Your heroism has gotten you noticed.”

  Clay blinked in astonishment. “Me,” he said with wonder. He realized that he had lost many things the day of the robbery—his pride, his friends—but never his integrity and never his family. Izzie had believed in him, though he didn’t know it at the time. Now others did, as well. Most importantly he believed in himself.

  He grinned. “Let me talk it over with Izzie.”

  The brothers laughed and slapped him on the back.

  “I want to hear all about what happened,” said Kino. “Everything! I already heard Gabe’s version, but he makes everything sound like a police report.”

  “I gave you the facts,” said Gabe.

  Izzie pulled into the drive with her mother. A moment later her two brothers spilled out of the backseat. They seemed to grow by the minute.

  “Later,” said Clay, and went to meet them.

  He approached with his hands in his pockets, not sure how to greet her. He wanted to sweep her up in his arms for a kiss, but with Carol and her brothers here, he was uncertain.

  Izzie came bounding forward, keys jangling in her hand as she leaped into his arms and kissed him on the mouth in front of his brothers, her brothers and her mother. Clay froze for just a moment, and then he did what he had dreamed of doing all day. He kissed her back, hard and possessive. Her mouth was soft and yielding and full of promises he intended to see she kept.

  Someone cleared his throat. Clay stepped back, and Izzie moved away, grinning up at him with such pride and love it made his chest swell. His brothers stood behind him, as they always had. Her brothers stood behind her.

  Glendora moved between the two groups and took Izzie in her arms for an enveloping hug.

  “It is so good to have you back at my table, Isabella.” Then Glendora turned to Izzie’s mother, relieving her of the large casserole she gripped. Glendora passed the glass container to Clay and then looped her arm with Izzie’s mom, steering her toward the house as if the gathering was completely natural. Clay and Izzie shared a smile.

  His brothers parted to let the two older women pass.

  “I hear that my grandson has asked for your daughter’s hand.”

  “He asked me for her hand,” said Carol, which was true. Somehow he and Carol Nosie had both survived that awkward conversation and he had gained her mother’s guarded consent.

  Clay could not hear some of the reply, but then his grandmother’s words were clear.

  “Too long coming, I say.”

  “A good match,” said Carol.

  Clay felt he could breathe again, and Izzie beamed up at him.

  “I told you,” she whispered.

  Clay wrapped an arm around Izzie. It was the gift he had most wanted, her mother’s approval. The men headed for the fire pit to put the ribs on the coals. Izzie’s brothers hesitated between Izzie and the men.

  Clay motioned the two after his brothers. “Go on.”

  The two bounded off like deer joining the herd.

  Izzie squeezed his hand. “Did you tell your brothers?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?” she asked.

  “They’re happy. Said it was about time.”

  She laughed. “And they’re right about that.”

  “Izzie? I have something to ask you.”

  She turned, her dark brows lifted in the middle like the wings of a perching bird. “Yes.”

  “Clyne says, that is, he’s been asked by the council if I would be interested in seeking a place on the tribal council.”

  “Tessay’s place?” she asked.

  “You don’t sound surprised,” he said.

  “Surprised? That they would pick a hero? A man of great integrity? Clay, you deserve this. Don’t you know that?”

  “I’m beginning to. What do you think?”

  “It will be hard work, but I don’t know anyone who could represent our tribe better than you.”

  He warmed under the glow of her faith in him.

  “You approve?” he asked.

  “Yes, and I am so proud of you.”

  He kissed her again, there on the land that had belonged to their people for longer than memory. Here in the shadow of the sacred Black Mountains where they would make a home and build a life—together.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from EXPOSED by Carla Cassidy

  (Part 1 of TOUGH JUSTICE).

  Addicted to shows like Law & Order and The Blacklist?

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  TOUGH JUSTICE

  Justice is worth every sacrifice

  A brand-new 8-part reading experience!

  FBI Agent Lara Grant has finally put her life as an undercover operative behind her and started a new assignment in New York City. But her past and present collide and become ever more twisted as a spate of murders send a message that is cruelly, chillingly personal …

  Tough Justice: Exposed (Part 1 of 8) by New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy

  Tough Justice: Watched (Part 2 of 8) by Tyler Ann Snell

  Tough Justice: Burned (Part 3 of 8) by Carol Ericson

  Tough Justice: Trapped (Part 4 of 8) by Gail Barrett

  Tough Justice: Twisted (Part 5 of 8) by Gail Barrett

  Tough Justice: Ambushed (Part 6 of 8) by Carol Ericson

  Tough Justice: Betrayed (Part 7 of 8) by Tyler Ann Snell

  Tough Justice: Hunted (Part 8 of 8) by New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy

  Collect all 8!

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  Addicted to shows like LAW & ORDER and THE BLACKLIST?

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  Check out this excerpt from suspenseful new drama serial Tough Justice:

  A brand-new 8-part reading experience!

  TOUGH JUSTICE

  Episode One

  Exposed

  Prologue

  The ledge outside of the tenth floor window of the hotel had a beautiful view of Central Park. It was also dangerously narrow and covered with pigeon crap.

  A cold late September breeze sliced through FBI Special Agent Lara Grant as she stepped out of the window of room 1021 and onto the ledge.

  She leaned with her back against the window frame and eyed the man who sat on the ledge about five feet to her right. She shouldn’t be here. She’d been in the middle of a meet and greet with her new unit when the call had come in. Talking down potential jumpers wasn’t in her new job description, but the man had asked for her specifically by name.

  She had no idea who he was, had never seen him before in her life. It was nine-thirty in the morning, and the last place she wanted to be was on a breathtakingly small ledge trying to stop a stranger from committing a very public and messy suicide.

  “Bad day?” she asked.

  “Bad life,” he replied. He didn’t look at her but, rather, stared straight ahead. “Are you FBI Agent Lara Grant?”

  “You asked for me and here I am. What’s your name?” she asked. Despite the coolness of the day, his forehead shone with perspiration. She tried to gauge how best to connect with him. What persona could she pull out of her professional hat to get him down to safety? Tough talk or sweet and honeyed? Too soon for her to tell.

  “Sean.” He leaned over and looked down below where Lara knew the NYPD had gathered, along with a growing crowd of looky-loos and local reporters.

  “Sean what?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now.” His voice held a weary hopelessness that shot tension through Lara.

  It had been her experience that there were two types of people who crawled out on a high ledge and threatened to jump. The first were the people who wanted drama and were usually easily talked down from a window or a bridge.

  The second were the serious ones, people who were more than willing to take the plunge to end their lives. Her initial observation was that Sean was dead serious.

  “What’s going on today, Sean?” She kept her voice conversational and nonthreatening.

  “I just can’t take it anymore.”

  “Take what?” Lara made no move toward him. Her job was to keep him talking until a team on the ground got her some personal information about him that she could hopefully use to get him off the ledge and to safety.

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “You obviously thought I would. You asked for me specifically to come here and talk to you.” She could hear the crowd below now, some asshole yelling “jump.”

  Sean wasn’t a small man. Despite his seat on the ledge, he appeared tall and muscular; but as he looked at her, there was the darkness of impending death in his eyes. “I was wrong. I thought you might be the one to understand everything, but nobody will.”

  “Try me,” she replied softly. “Talk to me, Sean.” Sweet and honeyed instinctively felt right for now.

  He shook his head, closed his eyes and leaned back against the building.

  “Sean, at least tell me your last name. It doesn’t seem fair that you know mine, and I don’t know yours.”

  “Dunst. I’m Sean Dunst, and I deserve to die.”

  “Sean Dunst,” she repeated. “It’s nice to meet you.” Lara was wired and knew an officer on the ground could hear what she said. With his full name they could now hopefully get her some information that might be useful.

  Another cold gust of wind whipped around the building. “It’s freezing out here, Sean. Why don’t you come inside where it’s nice and warm and we can talk?”

  He shook his head and didn’t reply.

  For the next three hours he refused to speak. Lara kept up a running conversation in an effort to make a connection. Her legs shook from the effort of balancing on the ledge. In her long-sleeved black T-shirt and jeans she wasn’t dressed for the wind. She fought against shivers that threatened to throw off her balance and send her crashing to the ground below.

  It would be just her luck to have survived everything she had in the past to meet her end here and now because of some screwed-up guy on a ledge.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry, Sean. I skipped breakfast this morning, and I’ll bet you didn’t eat, either. Why don’t we order up some room service with a pot of hot coffee, and we can talk inside,” she said, and still he didn’t reply.

  What was taking so damn long? Why hadn’t anyone whispered in her ear some information that would aid her in getting this guy back inside and down to safety? This needed to end.

  “I’ve done things...terrible things,” he said, finally breaking his long, agonizing silence.

  “Haven’t we all?”

  “Not like this.” He began to cry. Not silent, seeping tears, but, rather deep, ugly cries. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed, snot bubbling out of his nose with the force of his hysteria.

  “I’m sure things aren’t as bad as you think,” Lara replied. At least he was talking again.

  “You can’t understand. Nobody can. I’ve done horrible things.” He swiped at his nose with the back of his long sleeve and looked at her. “I need to be forgiven.”

  She was cold and tired and starting to get a little pissed off. “I can’t forgive you for something I don’t know about. Tell me what you’ve done, and maybe you can forgive yourself.”

  Her earpiece crackled and filled with a deep male voice giving her details. A nine-year-old girl named Tina. Found deceased...murdered near Dunst’s home. Primary suspect...not enough evidence to convict.

  The guy on the ledge was a suspected child killer. For just a moment Lara wanted to shove him off herself. “Tell me about Tina.”

  He visibly stiffened. When he looked at her again it was with knowing eyes. He’d killed the kid, and he realized now that she knew it.

  “You see why I have to jump?” he asked softly. “It’s the only way out for me.”

  “You’re guilty?” She held his gaze, her voice reflecting none of the revulsion that bubbled up inside her.

  “Yes.” The single word tore from his lips, and his features twisted with inner torment.

  Lara continued to stare at him, her face schooled to reflect nothing. “And you believe you deserve to pay?”

  “Yes.” The answer was a sibilant whisper.

  “Then how dare you try to take the easy way out,” she replied harshly.

  She’d changed her mind. He wasn’t going to jump. She knew it with a gut instinct that had served her well over the years. If he was a serious suicide he would have already flung himself off the ledge. He wouldn’t have sat here for the hours that he had.

  “Man up, Dunst,” she said, dropping the pleasant conversational tone she’d previously used. Sweet and honeyed definitely wasn’t cutting it. “You know you don’t want to jump. Come inside, and deal with whatever you nee
d to like a man.”

  It took another long hour to finally talk him into giving himself up. She climbed back through the window, and thankfully he followed her into the upscale hotel room.

  Once they were inside, she cuffed him with his wrists behind his back and then led him toward the stairs that would take them to the ground floor and into the custody of awaiting officers. Ten freaking stories, but she didn’t want to throw him into an elevator where other hotel patrons might be present despite the police effort to keep them out.

  It was nearly two o’clock. Over four hours she’d wasted on this creep who had finally stopped crying and now wore a weary resignation on his face.

  “Why did you ask for me?” she asked when they’d descended halfway to the ground level.

  “It doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters now. My life is over.”

  What did matter was that Lara was cold and tired and more than ready to put this child killer in jail. There was a special place in hell for men like him.

  They reached the lobby where not a soul was present. The police would have moved everyone out in the event that things went bad.

  She held Sean by the cuffs behind his back and paused to look outside of the lobby doors. It was a circus. Not only were there half a dozen NYPD cop cars, but also news vans and a throng of people held back from the entrance by some of the officers. Potential jumpers always drew a big crowd.

  A rivulet of apprehension worked through her. The last thing she needed right now was for her picture to appear in any news stories.

  She’d wanted...needed to stay low-profile. Dammit, this had the potential of ruining everything for her. Get a grip, she mentally commanded herself.

  She straightened her shoulders and fought against a sense of dark foreboding. She had a job to do, and no matter what the consequences, she had to see it through. That’s what she did...she did her job.

  Just get him into the back of one of the patrol cars and then your job here is done. You can get back to your new unit, and life will go on, she thought with determination.