Rachiah stared up into his eyes. “Anymore?”
A small nod and his face hardened. “When I was younger, much younger, I was horrible to a girl I went to school with – you probably knew her, Melissa Metcalf. I feel awful that I never stood up for her, but rather instigated a lot of it. It was self-preservation, but inexcusable.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve never forgiven myself.”
He lifted his blue gaze to her eyes. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”
How did Rachiah tell Damon Melissa wasn’t around anymore to forgive anyone? She desperately hoped Melissa didn’t do what she’d done because of Damon.
Rachiah had to remember not to get too attached. She couldn’t marry him.
Even if his softer side was fast dragging her toward a dangerous four letter word.
Chapter 6
Damon
The soles of Damon’s boots whispered on the concrete catwalk of the second story motel.
Everything in that small town seemed rundown from the cracked and pitted main street black top to the leaky faucets in the motel’s bathrooms.
His steps slowed as he approached Rachiah’s room. They’d been separated by a few doors and she’d been exhausted last night so they hadn’t spent much time together after dinner.
Plus, how was he supposed to act when she hadn’t said anything after he’d confessed to hurting Melissa’s feelings? Combine that with how adamant she’d been that they as a couple weren’t important enough to pursue or get worked up about? He was still trying to recover from the last couple days himself so he didn’t mind it.
But he planned on getting his fill of her that day. He’d make sure not to bring up anything that might be contentious or ruin their time together.
If he had his way, he’d convince her that the idea of him and her was definitely important.
He paused by her room, his heart beat racing. He knocked softly. She didn’t answer. Hopefully she was getting some sleep. If not, maybe she was taking a shower.
Damon would take the spare bit of time to run down to get her some flowers. Did they even offer flowers in this one horse town?
He would see Rachiah again in just a few minutes. As soon as he got back. Striding to his truck, he couldn’t hold back his contented whistle.
Sliding into his rig, he put the key in the ignition and tried to turn the engine over. All he got was a click and a slight hum. Nothing. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the steering wheel. Of course. The alternator would go out right as he got to town. That would be his luck. Ryland had said it was acting up.
Damon hadn’t taken the time to check it out before leaving. All he wanted was to get down to Wyoming and see Rachiah. He had faith in whatever was going on between them. Seeing Nate’s sadness before he’d left had cemented Damon’s need to pursue what he suspected he was feeling for Rachiah. He had to know, if it was worth any effort.
A sign reading “Cook’s Automotive” hung from a rundown building not more than a block away from the motel. Damon had noted it when they’d driven in the night before while he’d been looking over the town Rachiah had temporarily claimed.
Tucking his hands in his jeans pockets, Damon made his way to the building. Pushing through the glass door, he called out, “Hello?”
An older blond man nodded from the side where he stacked bottles of oil onto a shelf. “Good morning. What can I do for you?”
“My alternator is acting up again. I can’t get my truck down here because it’s in front of the motel, and it won’t start.” He pulled his keys out and set them on the counter. “Do y’all have a tow here?”
“Not at the moment. Ole man Cook is out helping the sheriff with an accident on the freeway. I won’t be able to get your truck until he gets back. You say it’s the alternator?” The man crossed to the counter with a bottle of oil still in his hand. Utilizing a pen he had tucked in his front pocket he scratched information on a pad of paper stuck beside the landline phone. “Which truck?”
“It’s the yellow and white F250. The older one out there.” Damon waited while he took notes.
“How long are you in town?” The man pulled out a reference book and skimmed for the part numbers. “I’m not sure if we carry these in stock or if I have to go out elsewhere.”
Damon nodded. He understood that, small towns were notorious for never having items in stock. “I’m in town visiting Rachiah, my friend. How long do you think this will take?”
The man raised his eyes, pausing in his writing to stare at Damon. A polite smile took the place of his charming grin. “Oh? Is she the new girl working at the diner? That Rachiah?”
“Yeah,” Uneasy, Damon transferred his weight to his back leg.
The man blinked hard and softly shook his head. He reached across the counter with his hand outstretched. “I’m Ratchet. Nice to meet you. It’s going to be an hour or two after I get the truck back. Unless of course you don’t want to wait for the tow and help me push the rig across here.”
If it would speed things up, Damon was fully onboard. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy staying with Rachiah longer, but he only had the rest of the day. Then he had to get back so he could do more work on the reservation and attend the Montana Trails family meeting.
“Let’s get to it.” Damon turned and waited at the door for Ratchet to join him. Just what he wanted to do, push a truck around town. He didn’t want to get all sweaty before seeing Rachiah.
She had mentioned getting the day off to spend with him. Maybe she felt the same attraction and pull he was.
Damon and Ratchet pushed the truck easily across the road even with its uneven cracks and dips. There was a slight downhill slant from the motel to the automotive shop. They used it to their advantage. His old Ford slid into the garage rather easily and they braked it to a stop.
“I’ll be able to get this done today. I don’t have anything else waiting.” Ratchet shook Damon’s hand again. “Are you going to be around?”
“I’ll be back in before five. Thanks again for doing this.” Damon couldn’t wait to get back to Rachiah. Now that the truck was going to get taken care of he could spend the day with her and not worry about if the parts were in or if the truck had been towed yet or not.
Ratchet watched him as he walked away. Damon could feel his gaze piercing between his shoulder blades. Something about the man was offsetting. Damon couldn’t tell if he was friendly or what.
Waiting at the end of the motel parking lot by her car, Rachiah waved her fingers at Damon as he got closer. She peered past his shoulder towards the automotive shop. “What are you up to this morning? I tried to find you in your room but you weren’t there.” She shot her gaze between him and where he’d been.
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and shrugged. “My alternator stopped working. I went to get you flowers, but... That stupid thing has been giving me a headache longer than I’ve been driving.” He couldn’t help himself and wrapped his arms around Rachiah shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. “How did you sleep?” To avoid any awkwardness he pulled away.
A pensive look crossed her face. “I haven’t slept that well in a long time.” She gazed at him from under long thick lashes. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“You said you have today off. Did you want to do something? Would you like to spend the day with me?” He couldn’t resist reaching out again and pulling her into another hug. She didn’t resist and he groaned with a smile. “It was so nice waking up this morning knowing I would see you.”
She pulled away, a rosy tinge to her copper skin. She arched an eyebrow and pushed at his shoulder. “You shouldn’t stay stuff like that.”
“Why? Because it’s true? It’s how I feel? Get used to it, girl.” He winked and pulled her against his side. “Come on. Let’s go on a picnic.”
~~~
The lush green bank of the river sloped down to the edge of the water. Grass edged the lazy flowing water. Damon couldn’t stop watching Rachiah. The shine of
the sun on her hair warred with the deep brown of her eyes.
When she smiled, she did it hesitantly, as if holding something back. Damon had a feeling when he got her to laugh it would be a game changer.
“How long are you staying?” Rachiah lifted her sandwich and took a bite. She didn’t take her dark gaze off of Damon, and truth be told he liked the attention.
He lay down on his side, resting his head on his hand and gazing up at her. “I have to leave this afternoon. A couple hours?” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rumpled envelope. “I went and got this last night after you went to your room.”
Rachiah put her sandwich on a napkin and wiped her hands. She looked at him questioningly as she took the envelope from him. “What is it?”
He had pulled a large amount of money from his bank account for her. “I want you to use it to stay in the motel as long as you need to. I’m not comfortable with you sleeping in your car. I’m surprised your parents are allowing it.” He held up a hand. “I know you’re an adult and you can do what you want, but if your parents knew, I bet they would be paying for you to stay in a hotel or something. I find it hard to believe that they are okay with this.”
Shaking her head, Rachiah peeked inside the white envelope. She slowly lowered it to her lap and stared at the ground for a moment. She tightened her jaw and looked at him. She shook her head again. “I can’t take your money.”
She offered the envelope back with a thrust.
Damon shoved her hand back at her. He was gentle but resolute. “Hold onto it. Use it if you need it. I can’t leave you down here with a good conscience and not do something to help you. I care too much about you.”
“Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t have to care. I’m not important.” Rachiah clutched the envelope in her hands. Her shoulders were tight and abject rejection covered her face.
“How can you say that? We don’t have to be in love or any of that fancy stuff for me to care about you. I’m not the type of guy that’s into commitment anyway. This is what this is. This is me worrying about you. Friends can worry about each other, Rachiah.” He angled his head down so he could catch her gaze. “Why wouldn’t I be nice you? You deserve so much more than nice.”
“Most guys aren’t, Damon.” Her eyes sparkled with a sheen of unshed tears, making him ache in deep parts of his heart that she would hurt.
“They should be.” He sat up, draping his arm around his drawn up knee. He wasn’t nice. He would have the memory of Melissa and how he treated her to keep him in check for as long as he lived. He picked a blade of grass and tossed it. He did it repeatedly for a few minutes.
“How long will you be here?” Damon turned her question back on her. She hadn’t given him a definitive answer yet. He was the one who kept asking her. He wanted her home. How could he date her or spend time with her if she wasn’t around?
She stared softly at the river, the pause melancholic. “Until I find my dad. Jeffrey Howard. I’ve heard he goes by Ratchet. I’ve been looking all over. I finally got what seemed like a solid lead, the guy in Cook’s Automotive goes by Ratchet. But he didn’t give me his full name.”
The guy in Cook’s Automotive couldn’t be her dad. It just wasn’t possible. Was it?
“When I was in there earlier he seemed interested in you. I couldn’t tell if he was being creepy or what. You’re a beautiful woman, I’m sure you attract attention all over the place.” He offered her side smile, curling his lip as he watched her blush again. Ratchet’s interest in Rachiah suddenly didn’t seem so extraneous. “Are you sure he’s not the guy you’re looking for?”
Rachiah cast a sharp glance at him, then burst into laughter. “I considered the same thing, but it’s not possible. He’s white.”
Damon cocked his head to the side, confused. “Why isn’t that possible?”
Rachiah’s laughter subsided but her grin didn’t. “I’m not white. Just in case you hadn’t noticed.” She winked.
Damon drew his other knee up and locked his hands with his arms wrapped around his knees. “You don’t have to look white to have white in you.” It wasn’t a difficult concept. He couldn’t understand why Rachiah was being so hardheaded about it.
“I know. But I’m being raised as full Salish, and you don’t know what that means. They wouldn’t do that to me, not if they thought I was white, too. Trust me. The limitations they put on me would not be there, if I was half white.” She ended on a hard T sound.
“You could still be white.” He was white. He felt like he’d been slapped in the face. What was wrong with being white? What was wrong with being Salish? How had this become their first fight? He didn’t even care about it enough.
Rachiah stared at him for a moment, then grabbed what she could and threw it into the bag. She stood up and looked down at him, her eyes welling with tears and spilling over. “You wouldn’t understand which is why this won’t work.”
She turned and stormed away, leaving Damon with an aching hole in his chest.
Chapter 7
Rachiah
Damon didn’t get it. How could he? He was white. His race would continue on into eternity. His cultural traditions would never end.
The Salish weren’t being racist. They were being preservationists. Rachiah understood. Even as frustrated as she was sometimes with the choices the tribe made for her, she understood. She respected the reasons.
As angry and frustrated as she was, she tamped down the empathy she had for Damon’s position. He didn’t understand. He hadn’t been raised the same way. To be fair, she hadn’t fully explained anything to him either.
Her irritation propelled her. Long strides carried her past her car, down the sidewalk, past the motel, right into Cook’s Automotive.
She didn’t stop at the door to question her actions. No, she had to push right through and slam her hand on the bell repeatedly.
Not once, not twice, more like eight times.
Ratchet walked through the door with his hands at chest level, as if Rachiah held a gun on him. “Whoa, what’s going on? Is everything okay? What’s the emergency?” Alarm held his eyes wide, even as he recognized Rachiah. He lowered his hands when he reached the counter and studied her.
Rachiah heaved a large breath and let loose her tirade. All of her pent up frustrations and disappointments. “I know you know something. I know you know who Jeffrey Howard is. Your innocent act isn’t fooling me. Whether you are him, or you know who he is, the fact that you go by Ratchet is a little too coincidental for me. You are lying to me. I’m not going to leave until I find out why. I have to find Jeffrey Howard. You and everybody else I’ve been dealing with for the past few years are not going to succeed in keeping me from the truth.” She settled into her stance, crossing her arms over her chest as if she wouldn’t leave the building until she got something.
The door opened behind her, and Damon stepped in. With one hand on the door, he passed his gaze between Ratchet and Rachiah. He searched her face and then spoke to Ratchet. “How’s my rig coming?”
Ratchet glanced from Damon to Rachiah, then focused on Rachiah. He placed his hands on the counter, palms flat, and leaned over. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you with the truth. I don’t know the person you’re speaking of. I’m Ratchet. I’m not sure I would remember my given name even if I tried. As for this man you are asking about? Jeffrey Howard? If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.” He pushed away from the counter and nodded toward Damon. “Excuse me, I have customer.”
“So, that’s it? That’s all you have to give me?” Rachiah tried not to gasp for air. It didn’t need to be obvious that he might as well have slapped her across the face with such a blatant lie.
She stumbled from the office, her hand pressed over her stomach. She ignored Damon as he tried to help her. “Deal with your truck. I’m going back to the motel.” Her words came out on a partial growl.
Damon backed off, and Rachiah walked slowly to the motel. At the end
of the building before she rounded the side to go to her room, she leaned over and braced herself on the edge of the building. Her picnic lunch came up, her stress and nerves pushing the food from her.
~~~
She didn’t remember making it to her hotel room. When Damon knocked on the door, she didn’t move from her spot on the edge of the bed as she stared at the nightstand. Weakly she called out, “Come in.”
She didn’t look towards him when he walked in. He softly closed the door behind him.
Rachiah couldn’t cry. She couldn’t do anything. She felt like she’d been punched and she couldn’t recover. Like she couldn’t catch her breath but the pressure was internal, not external, so not easily removed.
The bed dipped when Damon sat beside her. He took her hand in his.
She didn’t pull away, but didn’t look at him either. Her words came slow and rough like scraped on asphalt in the summer sun. “He denied my questions and it didn’t faze him. He has no idea what I’ve been through to find my dad. Nobody does. Nobody cares.” The ache inside her grew. She’d been searching since she found out. She hadn’t given up on a man who never wanted her to start with.
Damon’s fingers sent a warm tingle through her skin. His touch dissipated the numbness she’d been carrying for so long. “I’m sorry. I care. I didn’t mean to upset you by the creek. I just had to be honest. I need to always be honest with you.”
She tightened her fingers on his. Turning to him, she bit back a sob. “I don’t always want that kind of honesty.”
“I’m always honest, darlin’. It’s one of my downfalls. I’ll try to rein it in next time, but you’re always going to get complete honesty from me.” He lifted his free hand and brushed the hair away from her cheeks, using his thumb to smudge the moisture from her skin.
Forgotten Trails Page 5
