by Aimée Thurlo
When he turned away at long last, his gaze traveled to what was left of the hogan. The blast had driven several of the logs inward, dislodging them from their notched joints like sticks. The roof had given way above, and now sagged almost within arm’s reach in places.
“We need to call the tribal police,” she said.
“We will, but give me a moment.”
He crouched and began to study the splinters of wood and chunks of hardened clay now scattered around the partially collapsed entrance.
Dana joined him. “Let me help,” she said. “What are we looking for?”
“The pin and the handle from the grenade. They should still be around here somewhere. But look, don’t touch. The FBI will have to go through all of this with a fine-tooth comb and the less we disturb the scene, the more thorough their job can be. All I’m trying to do is figure out how new their ordinance is.”
As she began searching through the rubble, the reality of how close Ranger had come to death hit her hard. He could have just dove to the ground, yet he’d chosen to grab the explosive, throw it away, then shield her with his own body. That knowledge impacted on every part of her being. At one point she’d wondered if he really cared about her. She had no doubts now. There was no greater proof of love.
When she stepped back to get an overview, she saw the blood on the back of Ranger’s shirt and pants leg. For a second her heart forgot to beat. Then, as pure instinct took over, she ran to his side. “You’re hurt. You need help.”
Chapter Fourteen
Seeing the look on her face, Ranger brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “Stop worrying. I can handle it. They’re just minor cuts-shrapnel or flying debris.”
“You need a doctor.”
Ranger shook his head. “It’ll have to wait. I want to identify the ordinance first. Then I’ve got to make sure Hastiin Dííl’s hogan isn’t wired, too.”
“Another grenade?” she said in a thin voice.
“Or a bomb,” he said, then spotting something of interest to him, took a few steps away. Using the tip of his boot, he brushed aside some debris, and found a metal handle. “It’s U.S. Vietnam-era ordinance. Old, but still deadly.”
“How would anyone get something like that?”
“Ignacio’s brother was an army veteran from that conflict,” Ranger said. “It was probably a souvenir he carried or mailed home to himself.”
Favoring his right leg, Ranger walked from the damaged medicine hogan to Hastiin Dííl’s home, which had sustained no visible damage from the blast. Even the small window in the door and the bigger window halfway around the small hexagonal building were still intact.
“What if you find a bomb? You’re not going to try to disable it, are you?” she asked, her voice rising another octave.
“That’ll depend on how it’s set up. Whoever did this meant to kill Hastiin Dííl. He obviously won’t be returning anytime soon, but others could be in danger. A neighbor or one of his patients might come by, decide to leave a note or something, and get killed. If I can disable the triggering device then we can go but, if not, we’ll have to stick around until the police arrive.”
He was right. As dangerous as it was to stay in one place for long, they couldn’t just leave. “Okay, then it’s settled. Tell me how I can help.”
He gave her an approving nod. “Don’t touch anything, but look around the walls, window and ground for trip wires, string, batteries, springs, pieces of pipe, even a clothespin-anything unusual or out of place. Move slow, making sure you’re not stepping on anything but undisturbed ground, and don’t lean against any part of the structure, especially anything that might move together or apart.”
“Got it,” she said.
Dana began her search, walking slowly toward the side window, while he stepped over to the hogan door. As he bent to check around the door handle with a penlight, she heard his gut-wrenching groan. It was the raw sound of pure pain.
She went to his side. “You’ve got several wounds on your back. If you won’t go to a doctor or hospital, at least let me take a look and see how bad they are,” she said. “Teachers are required to take a first-aid course.”
“It’ll wait. I’m in no danger of dying. Just be my extra set of eyes over here around the door,” he said, bringing her focus back to the business at hand. “We’ll take care of the cuts later.”
She peered into the single pane of glass set into the door. “Can I borrow your penlight for a second?” She looked down, aiming the light. “There’s some string attached to the inside handle leading to a clothespin. It’s connected to a sliver of wood by the jaws. I also see what look like wires around the clothespin. And there’s something in aluminum foil on the floor, just behind the door.”
“All right, back away,” he said. “Clothespins are common makeshift triggers. When whatever is holding the jaws apart gets pulled out, the jaws close and connect two strips of foil or wire. That completes a circuit that sets off the device.”
“Leave the disarming job to someone else,” she insisted. “You’re hurt and you won’t be able to concentrate, not totally anyway, and the only way you can get to it is by climbing in through the window. You won’t be able to do that. You’re in pain. I can see it on your face.”
“We don’t have the tools we need anyway. Looks like we’ll have to stay here.”
“Do you have a first-aid kit in your truck?” she asked.
He nodded. “Beneath the seat on the passenger side.”
They walked over to his truck, Dana helping him. Along the way, he called in a report on his cell phone.
“I’m all yours,” he said, ending the call and folding up the phone. “Are you sure you can handle this?”
“I won’t know until I have a look. Let me help you take your shirt off and we’ll start with your back.”
As she stood in front of him, unbuttoning his shirt, she could feel his breath brush her skin like a light caress. “If it’s bad, you will have to go to a clinic or hospital.”
“It’s not that bad. I’d know if it was.”
She slipped the shirt off his shoulders carefully. “Turn around,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
A moment later she found three shallow cuts, probably from metal or slivers of wood or rocks that had been sent flying at high speed. But there didn’t appear to be any foreign material in the wounds. “I can clean and disinfect these. But there’s still the back of your thigh. There’s a lot more blood on your pant leg, and I think you’re still bleeding down there.”
“Yeah, I can feel it,” he agreed.
“Drop your jeans,” she said, after finishing with his back. “I need to take a look.”
“Remember, you asked,” he said.
Before she could decide if he’d issued a challenge or was just teasing, he unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants. He was wearing no underwear.
“Don’t turn around,” she said breathlessly.
His chuckle was more like a deep-throated growl, and it made a skin-prickling warmth spread through her.
She swore to herself that she’d remain professional and wouldn’t look at anything but the back of his thigh. But she wasn’t made of stone. Her gaze rose upward slightly and she saw what could only be described as world-class buns. Yearning and a hot blast of desire spiraled around her. Ranger was temptation itself.
“So how deep is it?”
She took an unsteady breath and focused. “There’s a sliver of metal about the size of a dime imbedded in your skin. It needs to come out. After that, I’ll need to clean and disinfect the wound thoroughly, but it’s going to bleed even more then, at least for a while. The alcohol’s going to sting.”
“I can handle it…can you?” he asked in a whisper-soft voice.
“Handle…Yes, of course,” she said, disciplining her thoughts.
She worked quickly, using small forceps from the kit to pull out the piece of shrapnel, then applying pressure to stem the bleeding before disi
nfecting the area. For a brief second or two as she bandaged his wound, wayward thoughts filled her mind. It would have been so easy to leave a string of kisses down his back and force both of them to forget everything else. She sighed.
“Someday…” he whispered as if reading her mind.
That one word, so rich with promise, touched her aching soul. She wanted him, and the feeling was more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced. It wasn’t wise, wasn’t logical, wasn’t orderly, and yet it was as real as the wind that rose from the west and swept through the canyon.
“I’ve done all I can for now,” she said, more assured now that the bleeding had stopped. She thought back to the way her life had been once-punctuated by plans and orderly schedules. Yet, in retrospect, it just seemed empty somehow.
As he pulled up his jeans, he turned around, letting her see him for a moment or two. Her breath stuck in her throat as she saw how aroused…and how big…he was.
“Today’s not ours,” he whispered, “but someday soon…” He brushed a light kiss on her forehead. “Hand me my shirt, then help me keep watch.”
TIME PASSED SLOWLY. He wanted her, but his wasn’t the kind of need that would be satisfied after a few hours of passion. His feelings for Dana went much deeper…and that was what would eventually break both their hearts.
They were just too different. He lived life in the present, never knowing what the next day would bring. He thrived on the danger and the uncertainty that came with his profession. Dana needed order, security and a routine.
Ranger stole a glance at her and forced himself to look at things the way they really were. Secrets still stood between them, though perhaps they weren’t quite so secret anymore. But where even one secret existed, others found fertile ground. The only closeness they’d ever know totally would be a physical one.
They’d have their day. That was inevitable. And it would be an experience neither of them would ever forget. There’d be no regrets-but there would be heartache, sooner or later.
“Someone’s coming,” Dana said.
He listened for a second, then nodded. “We’ll keep watch from the truck in case we have to make a fast getaway. Let’s go,” he said. A moment later she was buckling her seat belt while he sat behind the wheel.
A call came in on his cell phone and Ranger picked it up. The caller quickly identified himself as the tribal police officer, now approaching the scene in his patrol unit.
“I was told to make sure I let you know when I got close,” the officer said. “Agent Harris said he would speak to you later.”
Ranger nodded, seeing the tribal unit now, a quarter mile away. The brotherhood was making itself felt. Otherwise Harris would have been more of a problem. His brother had undoubtedly called in a few markers.
As they left the area, Ranger made two quick calls. The first was to his brother, updating him in a short staccato burst, and then to Tony Birdsong, asking him to pick up the sedan from where he’d left it.
“Things just keep getting worse, don’t they?” Dana said softly. “For all practical purposes I’ve got a bull’s eye on my back, and you’re fair game because you’re with me.”
He didn’t answer. The truth was he was also in danger because he was part of the brotherhood.
When his cell phone rang again, Ranger flipped it open. Hunter’s voice came through clearly.
“Here’s what I’ve got for you. The big pickup used to run you two off the road yesterday is being processed by the FBI. It was stolen, so they’ll have to rely on fingerprints and whatever other physical evidence they turn up. Tribal officers are questioning the people at the trading post who saw the Anglo man who ambushed Dana. Jonas gave them a description, too, but his sight isn’t what it used to be, and his clerk didn’t give the man more than a passing glance because he was with other customers. There were no security cameras.”
“There’s no telling who’s on Trujillo ’s hit list,” Ranger said. “Watch your back.”
“I hope they do come after me. I’ve got some backup in place. They’ll get one heckuva fight,” Hunter said then added, “stay sharp out there.”
“Don’t worry. Like the wind, we’ll slip right through their grasp.” Hearing his brother’s chuckle, Ranger ended the call.
“We need a base of operations-somewhere they can’t track us,” Ranger said.
“Agreed. But where?”
“I’m going to take you to my place. It’s not registered under my name for a reason-when I don’t want to be found, I’m not.”
“Nobody knows where you live?” she asked incredulously.
“I have two places. One’s near town and pretty much public knowledge. The other, the one I’m talking about, is my getaway-the one I go to when I need time to myself.”
“Then let’s go. I’m tired of running. Everywhere we go, we run into my enemies.”
“Your enemies are also mine.”
She gave him a gentle smile. “I really wish that weren’t the case.”
“You want to protect me?”
She nodded. “And why not?”
He felt an answering tug deep inside himself, but pushed it aside immediately. To guard her effectively, he’d have to stay on track.
“When we get to my place, I’ll contact some people I know, and find out if the police have any leads they haven’t shared with us. I’ll also do my best to find out where Trujillo is most vulnerable. A good offense will be our best defense.”
“Sounds like you’ve already got an idea,” she said.
“Yeah, I do, but I still need to work a few things out.”
Chapter Fifteen
His getaway turned out to be a simple wood-frame farmhouse on the north bank of the San Juan River west of Shiprock. The home was a rectangle of wood siding and fiberglass shingles, a style that could have easily been found in Utah or California instead of the Navajo Nation.
As they stepped up onto the wooden porch Dana noticed the same circular symbol carved into the door frame that she’d seen at the first house they’d stayed. It was scarcely more than a scratch in the wood near the floorboard, but it was there.
Unlocking his door, Ranger turned and, following her gaze, saw what she’d been studying. “I have some creative termites,” he said with a half smile. “Pesky creatures.”
She said nothing, but her thoughts were racing. It didn’t seem likely that Ranger’s home was a police safe house. It made more sense to believe Ranger was a member of the Brotherhood of Warriors and this was a symbol another member in trouble would recognize.
From what she’d seen of Ranger’s training, and hearing more than once that he was on assignment and trusted by the police, that didn’t seem like much of a stretch. From what Hastiin Sani had told her, the Brotherhood of Warriors were the best of the best and Ranger definitely fit that description.
Dana was intuitively aware of the way he was watching her as she walked inside his home. They were so closely attuned, it was a little bit frightening. Was this love…or was she letting her imagination run wild?
“I need to do something,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “Will you keep an eye on the road we came in on? I don’t think we were followed, but I’m not going to underestimate these people.”
“No problem.”
He took a few steps down the hall, then turned his head. “There’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. You can grab something to eat while you keep watch.”
After finding a loaf of wheat bread and some slices of chicken breast and cheese in the kitchen, Dana made two quick sandwiches and left one for Ranger. As she ate her own sandwich, she stood beside the window, looking back in the direction they’d come. The house was at the end of the road, so nobody could come in from another direction except on foot.
Dana heard Ranger moving about in one of the back rooms, but the door was closed and she couldn’t make out his conversation. After fifteen minutes he returned.
Seeing him coming down the hall, she cal
led out. “There’s a sandwich waiting for you in the kitchen.”
“Have you seen anything or anyone?” he asked, coming up from behind her and taking a look for himself.
“Nothing but crows, a cottontail and a ground squirrel. No people, or moving shadows, or cars,” she answered. “I was watching on the way here, too. No one followed us.”
“These days, with all the electronic gadgets, you don’t have to be right on someone’s tail to follow them,” he warned.
She conceded with a nod. “Have you learned anything we can use?”
“All the men who were in Ernesto Trujillo’s original gang have been identified and accounted for. That verifies what we already suspected. Ignacio is recruiting soldiers on his own-mostly small-time locals and off-the-reservation street punks.”
“If he’s smart, he’ll also hire Navajo men who can blend in and pose an even greater threat to us,” she said.
Ranger shook his head. “Not likely. We’ve got…friends. Word has gone out, and the criminal element here on the rez has received a warning they won’t ignore. Ignacio won’t be able to recruit from inside our borders.”
Ranger had left his cell phone on the table next to his keys. When it rang, she handed it to him. From the expression on his face, she could tell that it was very bad news.
Ranger hung up, went to one of the rooms in the back, then returned within a minute carrying a rifle. A pistol was stuck in his belt, and she could see clips of ammunition in his pocket. “We’ve got to get moving.”
“But we just got here.”
“The man who stocked the kitchen with food for us was found dead outside a gas station near Shiprock-killed by a sniper while he was gassing up his pickup. The shot apparently came from long range, so it’s not likely he gave us up, but it’s too risky to stay here now. Others will be watching the road to make sure we’re not followed, but you and I need to find another place.”
Dana started to ask him for a name, wondering if it had been one on the list, then stopped. That would have also entailed the admission that she knew some of the names. Instead, Dana picked up her bag and went into the kitchen to gather some food and bottled water. “Do you have any idea where we’re going, or will we just drive until we get someplace we can hole up for the night?”
