“Unlike some? What do you mean?”
“There is prejudice in Navajoland, Reagan. Though such thought is not part of the ancient traditions, a few who supposedly follow Dine teachings are nevertheless way over the top in their criticism of outsiders.”
“A few. But not you or your brother or your mother?”
“No.”
“What about your father? How does he feel about outsiders…or for that matter, strangers coming over in the middle of the night?”
“My father has been dead for many years. But when he was alive, he never felt prejudice against anyone. It would’ve been hard for him, considering that he was an outsider himself.”
“Oh.” Reagan couldn’t think of anything to say. She didn’t want to know such intimate details of Kody’s life. It seemed out of place somehow.
On the other hand, she was about to spend the night at his mother’s house. She guessed that was a fairly intimate thing for a person to do. It had been years and years since she’d even been invited to have dinner at someone’s home, so she wouldn’t know for sure.
“Was your father an, uh…Anglo American?” She thought that was the term she’d heard him use to describe white Americans. And judging by his brother’s brilliant blue eyes, she imagined that their “outsider” father must’ve had light coloring.
She watched Kody nod silently in the glow of the headlights.
As they drove on through the dark night, each of them stared quietly out the wide windshield. Both seemed determined to keep their thoughts and dreams locked deep inside their own hearts.
Kody glanced across the front seat to where Reagan had fallen asleep. It was good that she could sleep on the way home. She needed the rest.
Her run-in with the Skinwalkers tonight must’ve taken a lot out of her. He knew it had caught him off guard.
Why had the enemy attacked an outsider this time? Was it simply because she was an Anglo and a stranger?
That was doubtful. The evil ones had never before struck out unless it could benefit them financially or would somehow bring them more power. They didn’t just pick on someone for the fun of the kill.
Reagan moaned slightly in her sleep and shifted in the seat. Thick strands of rusty-colored hair fell over her face and covered one eye.
A vivid image jumped into his mind unbidden. An image of his fingers pushing that hair out of her face and then lifting her chin to place a searing kiss across those full lips.
The urge to hear her moans, coming under the assault of his caresses, was immediate and overpowering.
Hot, savage sex.
That wasn’t something he normally let himself dwell on. He had vowed, along with the rest of the Brotherhood, not to take a wife again—not to begin building a family of his own—until the threat from the enemy had passed.
And one-night stands had never struck him as a terribly satisfying way of scratching an itch.
He stretched and tried to drag his gaze and his thoughts away from the woman next to him. But the truck’s front seat had grown smaller. And it was way too warm in the cab of this pickup.
No matter who she really was, or why the evil ones had attacked her, she was too close and too compelling for him to ignore.
3
S oft, dappled sunlight fell across Reagan’s face, bringing her out of a dreamless sleep. It took her a minute to remember where she was.
Sitting up in bed and giving a cursory glance around the flowery wallpapered room, she thought back to last night’s terror and the warmth that had come after it. Kody had brought her to his mother’s house late last night.
He’d introduced them, then he’d settled her into a guest room that had been his own boyhood room, redecorated. Within minutes, he’d said good-night and told her he would return in the morning.
Apparently, he didn’t spend his nights in his mother’s home. Too bad for him, really.
The house was cozy and warm. But it was Kody’s mother who had most effectively captured Reagan’s attention and made her feel welcome.
Audrey Long was a short, thin woman with silver-gray hair and a clear complexion. Kody had inherited her startling, deep brown eyes. But on her they appeared fragile instead of intense, and they matched her other softly angled features perfectly.
After taking a quick shower, Reagan had to decide what to wear. She hadn’t packed any fancy things because the reason for this trip in the first place was to hang out with her father. He’d mentioned scouting out pottery shops and doing some hiking.
She seldom dressed in anything but jeans and sweatshirts anyway. But today she wished she’d brought something nicer to make a good impression on Mrs. Long.
To make up for having nothing else to wear except an old MIT rugby shirt and a pair of well-worn jeans, Reagan slid into another set of black silky high-cut panties and bra. Her one indulgence, wearing fancy underthings, made her feel good from the inside out.
And no one ever suspected the truth under the geeky math freak’s clothes.
“Oh, there you are.” Mrs. Long turned and smiled as Reagan entered the kitchen. “Come. Sit down and talk to me while I prepare your breakfast.”
“Oh, please don’t go to any trouble. I’ll be fine with coffee until Kody comes to get me.” Reagan pulled out a chair and sat down at the oversize, rough-sawn-wood table.
“Nonsense. No one leaves my house without a full stomach. It won’t take a minute to fix eggs and fry bread.” The woman’s voice was soft and melodic, sort of like someone singing a lullaby. “You look very nice this morning, dear. Last night you were obviously exhausted, but now you look well rested and fresh.”
How strange that Mrs. Long would say just the exact right thing to make her feel comfortable.
“Thanks.” Reagan watched her as she worked at the counter and then at the stove.
Her kitchen was painted a soft, sunny yellow and there were ceramic pots, heavy cooking pans and knickknacks about. To Reagan the room felt homey and comfortable.
On the table, next to a bowl full of fresh lemons, was a huge vase containing dried sunflowers. Very nice.
“Does Kody live far away? Will he be here soon?”
Mrs. Long set a plate of scrambled eggs down in front of her. “When Kody returned to his homeland a few months ago, he built himself a hogan to match his brother’s on the family property.
“Neither one of my sons has been able to stay in their father’s house since he was…killed.”
Mrs. Long looked suddenly embarrassed to have spoken so bluntly. She lowered her eyes and turned back to the stove. “Kody lives just minutes away and will be here shortly, I’m sure.”
“A hogan?” Reagan asked after she swallowed her first bite of eggs. It was the one thing she’d picked up from Mrs. Long’s words that seemed safe enough to discuss.
“It’s the traditional ceremonial house for the Dine. Perhaps Kody will show you what one looks like later today.” She brought two cups of hot, black coffee to the table and sat down next to Reagan.
“I’d love to see it, but I’m sure he’ll be too busy,” Reagan told her. “I was kind of hoping to find my father today, anyway. I’m a little worried about him.”
Mrs. Long put a gentle hand on Reagan’s arm. “Kody and Hunter will find him. Don’t you worry.”
But that was just what Reagan was worried about. She had to find him first.
“She is Dr. Reagan Wilson of Pasadena.” Hunter’s voice came in clearly over the cell phone. “And her father is Commander Robert Wilson, U.S. Navy, currently stationed at White Sands. Just like she said.”
“I hear the ‘but’ loud and clear in your voice, bro.” Kody stopped walking toward his mother’s place and turned his face to the sun. “What else did you find out?”
“Several things. First, her father didn’t go off on any vacation. I have an old army buddy who’s stationed at White Sands. I gave him a call this morning.”
Kody held his breath, waiting for the bad news.
&nbs
p; “Seems that Commander Wilson has been working on a top-clearance project. Three days ago he vanished, along with some extremely valuable plans that belong to the U.S. government.
“The rumor mill has it that he’s defected or is preparing to sell out to the highest bidder,” Hunter continued. “My friend says the latest word is that he’s been spotted in Argentina or maybe in Egypt. It seems pretty unlikely he would still be in the U.S., this close to the base.”
“That doesn’t sound good. Does Reagan know about the rumor?”
Hunter didn’t hesitate. “Not within my friend’s scope of information. He did just call back with an update from base security, however. Reagan was checked onto the White Sands base day before yesterday, and she spoke to her father’s C.O. twice.” He cleared his throat. “I’m guessing that means she knows something.”
Damn. Kody knew she’d been lying. He wondered what else she hadn’t said.
“Just in case she knows a whole lot more than she’s told us, have you asked around about Commander Wilson hiring a Navajo guide to take him to Canyon de Chelly?”
“I’ve checked with most of the registered guides. No one by that name has reserved either a guide or a room near the canyons. There’s still a few, uh, unregistered guides I can check with. If I can find them.”
“Right.” Kody was well aware of what went on.
He knew there were renegade Navajos who would take outsiders onto sacred lands—for enough money. And with all the poverty still in Dinetah, money could be a great motivator.
“Can we get a picture of Commander Wilson to show around?” Hunter asked.
“I imagine the Bureau will be able to fax one. I’ll contact the field office in Albuquerque. We should have something by later today.”
Kody bid his brother goodbye, flipped his cell phone closed and fastened it onto his belt. He continued down the low hill toward his mother’s house and the very interesting and secretive guest he’d left with her last night.
“Family is all-important to us, Reagan.”
Kody heard his mother’s words, spoken soft and low, as he walked into her mudroom. He stood silently for a moment before going through the door to the kitchen so that his mother could complete her thought.
Whether they were telling myths, legends or lessons in life, Navajos tried never to interrupt when their elders were speaking.
“We have two families,” his mother continued. “Our immediate family and the extended family of the Dine. The first woman, Changing Woman, gave us the first four clans. Now there are many more.
“We identify how we are human by the clans of our ancestors,” she explained. “I am of the Big Medicine People, born for the Rock Group Clan. All who hear this will know who I am. When we know our clan, we will never be alone. Our ancestors will always be near us.”
Our ancestors may always be with us but that doesn’t mean we never feel alone, Kody mused. Or maybe that was just his Anglo side speaking up. He decided that, finished or not, it was time to interrupt his mother.
“It’s a good thing the ancestors don’t carry a lot of baggage with them,” he teased as he entered the kitchen and kissed his mother’s cheek. “There are enough generations to cause an acute shortage of storage space—not to mention a shortage of bathrooms.”
He turned to Reagan and found a wide grin on her face. The sight of that smile brightened up the entire room and made him forget for the moment how much he distrusted her—and remember how much he wanted her.
“Good morning,” he said, and matched her smile. To his great disappointment, her smile disappeared.
“You look rested,” he managed to comment, instead of begging for her to smile once again.
“I slept well.” She had been drying dishes and quietly folded the towel to signal she was finished with the chore. “I also ate well. Your mother insisted on feeding me breakfast. She’s a wonderful cook.”
He put his arm around his mother’s waist and drew her close. “Yes, she has many creative talents.” He placed another soft kiss on the top of his mother’s head. “Did you show her your artwork, Mom?”
“No. Perhaps another time.”
Releasing her, he decided not to make an issue of the art. His mother hadn’t had the heart to take up her painting again since his father’s death. It seemed the whole family had lost heart at the same time.
“We need to talk, Reagan,” he said as he turned to her. “I left the pickup at my place. It’s not far. Walk with me?”
“What about my luggage?”
“We can stop back by here and pick it up on the way out. Okay?”
“All right. Just let me get my jacket.” She turned to his mother. “Thank you so much for everything, Mrs. Long. I don’t know when I’ve felt more at home.”
His mother very nearly blushed. Reagan couldn’t have said anything that would make a better impression on a woman who valued home and family as much as Audrey Long did.
When Reagan met him in the mudroom, he looked down at her feet and shook his head. “Nice shoes. New?”
“Well, yeah. They’re athletic shoes. They’ll be great for walking.” She hesitated, then must have noticed his skeptical expression. “Won’t they?”
“I don’t suppose you brought any boots with you?”
“Boots? I don’t own any. Why?”
He took her elbow and turned her toward the door. “Snakes.”
Reagan fought her way through the low brush and rocks on the side of the hill. But since Kody still had hold of her elbow and was walking at a racer’s pace, she didn’t have much of a chance to watch out for snakes.
Dressed in jeans, with a brown suede jacket and a black cowboy hat, he looked as if he belonged on the back of a horse instead of walking up a hill. She glanced down at his feet and realized he hadn’t worn regular boots, either, but heavy suede shoes that looked a little like high-topped moccasins.
“It smells good up here,” she sputtered as she finally managed to tug her elbow from his grip.
“That’s the scent of cedars and yellow pines.”
She slowed her pace, forcing him to slow as well to stay beside her.
“It’s nice. But…” Reagan frantically tried to keep the fear out of her voice. “What kind of snakes live here?”
“Rattlers, mostly.”
“Those are poisonous.” She picked up her pace a little. “How come you don’t have on boots if that’s what you need for protection?”
“There’s an old Navajo legend that says our Dine ancestors once made a deal with the snake. We do not eat snake meat and they in turn do not strike at us.”
“Hmm. Your people sure have lots of stories and legends.” She blew out a breath and kept walking. “If I promise not to eat snake meat, can I get in on the deal?”
The chuckle erupted from low in his chest and hummed along her nerve endings. That same old awareness was back, reeling inside her with maximum force.
“You’re scientifically minded,” he began without directly answering her question. “What do you know about our animal neighbors and friends?”
“Me? Not much. Just enough to be dangerous, I suppose. I thought I knew something about bees, but that attack last night was a complete surprise.”
“Yes, it was,” he said with such a serious expression that she nearly laughed.
“I take that back,” Reagan stated as she tried to keep a straight face. With his sense of humor, he was going to love one of her geek jokes. “I do know a lot about worms.”
“Worms.”
“Yes, you know, the—”
“Computer virus variety,” he broke in, finishing the punch line for her. “Very funny.” But his face remained sober, and his eyes didn’t tease the way they had before.
“We need to talk about finding your father,” Kody said while he kept walking. “Hunter and I have asked around and it doesn’t seem likely that he ever came to Navajo territory. Maybe his neighbor was lying to you. Or maybe the Navy has a point and he doesn�
��t want to be found.”
The flash of anger came swiftly, almost cutting off her air. “You checked with the Navy? You sound just like his C.O. My father did not defect. He would never do that.”
“And you’re sure because…you know him so well?”
She felt her shoulders sag, and something in her gut twisted. “You know I don’t. But I do know he’s had an honorable career and loves his country. And it makes more sense that he would want to come here.”
“Why?” Kody stopped walking and turned to face her. “Why are you so sure about that?”
Well, here it came. Reagan was going to need his help. Her father had to be in some kind of trouble or he would’ve met her as they’d planned. She had to tell Kody the truth in order to make him understand. To make him help.
“My father has always had just one all-consuming hobby in his life. It’s one of the few things I can remember about him from when I was a kid.” She hesitated only a moment. “He collects and studies ancient American Indian artifacts.”
Kody narrowed his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. “Go on.”
“My father’s neighbor…friend, really…told me Dad ran into another collector a few weeks ago in one of those online chat rooms or blogs he frequents. This other guy apparently had just returned from a trip to Canyon de Chelly and was full of stories of a secret stash of artifacts he’d found buried in a cave there. He—”
“Wait,” Kody interrupted. “You do know, as I’m sure your father knows, that it is illegal to remove any artifacts or relics from reservation land.”
“Yes, I know.”
“That’s why you’ve been so hesitant to talk about this.” Not a question. Reagan knew disgust well enough when she heard it.
“You’re positive your father is too admirable to sell out his own country,” Kody growled. “But you’re not so sure he wouldn’t mind ripping off mine. Is that it?”
“That’s not fair. What if Dad was planning on returning things that had already been taken? Or maybe he wanted to be sure this other fellow had found the real thing, and then after verifying it, Dad would inform tribal authorities of the new find on their land?”
Books by Linda Conrad Page 17
