by Devyn Quinn
Glancing down at the fresh clothes Kathryn had supplied, Dakoda shook her head. “No, thanks. You’ve been great.” Though Kathryn was a little taller, the two women were roughly the same size, allowing Dakoda to decently wear her borrowed jeans and blouse with comfort. “I do have to admit I wasn’t expecting a real bathroom with running water. Soaking in a hot bath was heaven.” She’d been relieved when offered the chance to rest and clean up before dinner, spending at least half an hour just soaking in the old iron tub. It had taken at least half a bar of soap to remove the layers of grime and stink from her skin. With many good graces, the chief had recognized her fatigue and withdrawn to give the two women time to get to know each other. She already knew he’d want to talk further.
And she already knew what she’d say in return. She had a feeling the chief wasn’t going to be pleased.
Neither would Jesse.
Brushing a stray blonde lock from her perspiring forehead, Kathryn laughed. “It wasn’t quite so modern when I first came here,” she explained, her blue gaze twinkling with the memory. “When I agreed to marry Joe, I insisted on some comforts, and that included hot running water and better plumbing. The water is pumped from a nearby well house powered by an electric generator. We even have a freezer out there now for storing meat and other perishables. I can’t tell you how good it’s been to have.”
Dakoda nodded. “I can imagine it’s been a godsend.”
Kathryn rolled her eyes. “Oh, you don’t know what a fight it was to get these few concessions. Most of the men were against bringing in any sort of conveniences. They wanted to live in the old ways, like their ancestors.”
“Jesse mentioned their desire to stay close to the land several times,” Dakoda murmured.
Kathryn laughed and shook her head. “Having Tlvdatsi blood myself, I’m all for preserving our heritage. But I’m also a modern girl, raised in the city. And as much as I like camping out and living off the land, I do have my limits. As do other women, who I explained wouldn’t be so willing to join this clan if they thought we were a bunch of treehuggers eating roots and berries and living in tents.”
Dakoda nodded. “I have to admit I see your point exactly. It’s a lot to ask a woman to embrace something like, ah, like this. It’s more than a whole different way of life, it’s a whole different way of looking at yourself and your place in the world.”
Kathryn lifted her mug, taking a deep drink of her coffee. “It’s tough,” she admitted. “Especially when it comes to the point when you realize you’re either going to embrace it, or that you’ve got to let it go and walk away.”
Dakoda gazed at the woman sitting across from her. A tall, cool blonde with a sun-freckled face, Kathryn looked as if she’d be more at home sunning on a tropical beach than living the rough life of a pioneer woman in the mountains. Kathryn had obviously adapted. Long hair pulled back and braided down her back, her clear skin was untouched by any cosmetic, as were her hands. Her clothing was just as simple—jeans and a man’s flannel shirt and a pair of heavy leather boots. To make the shirt a bit more feminine, she’d tied it around her slender waist, revealing a beautifully flat abdomen.
“You adapted,” Dakoda said slowly, trying to feel her way along carefully.
Kathryn smiled. “It wasn’t easy, but I pretty much knew what I wanted once I met Joseph.”
Dakoda fingered her empty mug, absently noting it was handmade and not store-bought. “Did you have any idea about…what you were?”
“If you’re asking if I knew about the shift, the answer is no. I didn’t. I did know I had a little Cherokee in me; my father’s people came off the reservation in Oklahoma some generations ago. But that was about as much as I knew about my own Native American heritage. I mean, who isn’t a Heinz 57 now? I’ve got German, Irish, Scots, and some Russian in my family tree. It just so happens that one of my forefathers carried a gene stretching back to the beginning of creation.”
As a person not grounded in any firm religious instruction, Dakoda still had more than a little trouble believing some big entity in the heavens scooped up a handful of soil and created life. “You honestly believe it goes back to the creation of mankind on earth?” she asked.
“I do.” In her two simply spoken words, Kathryn seemed absolutely sincere.
“Why?”
Kathryn nodded, serious and unsmiling. “Because I’ve seen the truth during my mind walk.”
Dakoda’s brow furrowed. “I remember Jesse saying something about it.” She shook her head. “He tried to explain the origins of his people, but I really wasn’t into it at that exact moment. My brain was kind of blown at the time, you know?”
“Your mind wasn’t blown,” Kathryn corrected. “Just closed. There was a time when all men’s minds were open, and aware of all the gifts our creator granted to humankind. But as time and beliefs changed, our minds shut down and the faculties we used to shift became dull and blunted. Through time the ability to change our shape began to die out.”
“Obviously all of them didn’t die off.”
Kathryn agreed. “Some few people were able to hang on to the old knowledge and pass it from generation to generation.”
“And the Tlvdatsi are such a people?”
Kathryn smiled. “Of course. You’ve seen the shift with your own eyes, so you know the truth. You’re just not able to see it in yourself yet.” She reached across the table, patting Dakoda’s arm. “Once you take the mind walk, you’ll know without doubt.”
Dakoda resisted the urge to draw her arm away. For a moment she harbored a feeling of distrust. They way Kathryn spoke sounded much like the spiel one would give when trying to indoctrinate a new recruit into some kind of whacked-out cult. Desperate people, lonely people, lost people, were inclined to believe anything—embrace anything—in order to achieve a sense of belonging. Of the people she’d met so far, they appeared to be well educated and well spoken. They were obviously far removed from the dirt-poor superstitious country bumpkins living in rural areas of other sparsely populated states.
Dakoda didn’t consider herself to be desperate or lonely. A little lost, perhaps, but she’d come to believe she was carving a place for herself in this world by following in Ash Jenkins’s steps and entering law enforcement. It was entirely chance that she’d chosen to become a ranger and work in these mountains. Had her choice been chance, or some buried instinct bringing her back to the land of her father’s ancestors?
She didn’t know. And until she did, she wouldn’t be making any firm decisions concerning Jesse Clawfoot unless she was absolutely and positively sure. At this point she wasn’t willing to let a few rampant hormones rule her head, or stop her from her duty of pursuing Greg’s killers and bringing them to justice. Whether or not the clan liked it, the white man’s law was about to come down on the Barnetts’ heads with full force. The Tlvdatsi might have their own way of handling the poachers, but she had another. And that was just the way it was going to have to be.
My way or the highway.
23
There wasn’t much time to think about it, or talk more. The front door flew open, bringing in Chief Joseph and Jesse. Both men headed toward the table.
Standing up, Kathryn frowned at her husband and brother-in-law. “Wash your hands before you sit at my table, please,” she commanded, retrieving her pot holder and heading toward the stove to check her baking. She pulled a pan of perfectly golden-brown buttermilk biscuits out of the oven.
“Smells good, honey,” Chief Joseph said, offering his wife a quick peck on the cheek. “Can I do anything?”
“Set the table, please,” Kathryn answered juggling the hot pan. “We were so busy talking I didn’t manage to get it done.”
Joseph headed toward the cabinets holding the dishes. “A good conversation, I hope.”
Kathryn shrugged. “Just girl talk, my dear,” she quipped lightly. “Nothing you guys would be interested in.”
One look was all it took for Dakoda to recognize
a couple still very much in love with each other. The envy bug bit. Just a little. Just enough to sting.
She swallowed her discomfort and stayed quiet, instead focusing on the family banter going on around her. That was something she’d never had. Even when her mother was married to Ash, they’d spent more times battling it out than kissing and enjoying a quiet dinner. When she was a kid, mealtime usually involved her staggering-drunk mother tossing a few dollars her way and telling her to find some food.
The bug came back and bit again. This time the sting was deeper, more painful.
Dakoda ignored it, propping her chin on her elbow. These people actually like each other.
“We’re always interested in anything you girls have to say,” Jesse broke in, drying his hands on a towel hung beside the sink. “There’s so few of you around to do that talking. We’re happy if you’ll just let us look at you and bask in your beauty.”
“Flattery isn’t going to get you dessert, Jesse,” Kathryn countered sternly. “I didn’t have time to make anything but the basics tonight.”
Jesse snapped his fingers. “Darn. I do so love that chocolate layer cake you make.”
“No cake,” Kathryn insisted. “Unless you bake it yourself.”
“My luck always did stink.” Jesse walked toward the table, sliding onto the bench beside Dakoda and giving her an odd look. “What happened to your hair?”
Dakoda’s hand rose. She fingered the choppy cut Kathryn had helped give her. “It was too damn tangled to unsnarl,” she confessed about her chin-length cut. “So I decided short and simple was the way to go.”
Frowning, Jesse eyed her. “It looks good,” he finally announced, reaching out to trace the curve of her cheek. “Brings out your beautiful almond-shaped eyes.”
Dakoda’s skin heated under his simple caress. “There you go comparing me to a nut again,” she laughed, trying to make light of his comment. Though she could brush off his compliment, her body couldn’t toss off his touch as easily. The clutching sensation in her stomach made her breath catch. Heat began to trickle between her thighs. She pressed them together tightly, mentally willing the sensations of desire aside. It was no longer just the two of them, alone and fighting for survival. She had to think about going back to her world now, the real world outside the reservation settlement.
Jesse’s hand dropped. “You know I’d think you were gorgeous even if you were bald and had no eyes.”
Dakoda laughed. “If you’re trying to insult the hell out of me, you’re headed in the right direction. Want to try another?”
Ducking his head briefly, Jesse cleared his throat. “I think you know what I’m trying to say.” He followed his words with a brief squeeze of her forearm.
Dakoda nodded. “I get it, I think,” she said, watching as Joe pulled out a stack of plates and bowls and set the table for his wife. As he was handing out the utensils, Kathryn ladled heaps of her thick meaty stew into the bowls, filling them to the edge.
“Everyone eat up,” Joseph urged as he sat the biscuits in the middle of the table, along with a small crock of pale, creamy butter. Two clear glass canning jars held the bounty harvested from the land; one was filled with a thick berry jam, the other with rich dark honey harvested from wild beehives.
Buttering a few biscuits, Dakoda picked up her spoon and dug into the food. The first bite was heaven. “Kathryn, this is delicious,” she complimented, following the bite with another from the buttermilk biscuit. Smeared with real butter, the bread practically melted in her mouth. She’d never tasted anything so good in her entire life.
Kathryn blushed a little at the compliment. “Thanks. I’m using recipes handed down through Joe’s family for ages now. I try to make as much as I can myself.”
Dakoda swallowed another bite of the perfectly simmered meat. It was all she could do to eat at a normal pace instead of shoveling the stew down at top speed. There had been a point during their travels when she’d believed she’d never again get enough to eat. “That must keep you busy.”
Kathryn gave a weary sigh. “It keeps my days full,” she agreed. “What I can’t make myself, we buy in town on our monthly trips in for supplies.”
Dakoda’s ears perked at the mention of civilization outside the reservation. “How long does it take to get there?” she asked.
Chief Joseph took over the conversation for his wife. “Leave in the morning and we can be in Connelly Springs by afternoon. We’ve actually progressed to the point where we have a few utility roads for trucks to get in and out now, so travel is a little faster.”
“No more packing up and taking the horses,” Kathryn added.
Dakoda didn’t remember seeing any vehicles, though she hadn’t seen the whole of the settlement. “Is there any way you can get me back to Connelly Springs tomorrow?” she asked.
Chief Joseph nodded. “If it’s your wish to do so, then we can leave at first light.”
Dakoda put down her spoon. “That would be excellent.”
Jesse frowned a little at her words, but said nothing. Instead he concentrated on his food, eating slowly and methodically.
Dakoda glanced toward him. Oh, no. She’d known he was going to take this hard. Why did he have to be so freaking sensitive about it? She could feel the tension and hurt pouring off him in waves, even though he wasn’t saying anything.
“I understand you are eager to pursue the men who killed your partner,” Joseph continued evenly. “With that in mind, I have spoken to Ayunkini for his counsel on the matter.”
Dakoda’s brow rose in surprise. “And he would be?”
“Ayunkini is our shaman and spiritual advisor,” Jesse answered, finally deigning to speak. “He is the one who leads you through the mind walk, helps you explore the heart and soul of the cougar inside.”
Dakoda stiffened. Hunger faded, replaced with concern. She suddenly felt bloated and leaden, like a fat cow about to be slaughtered. “And he wants me to have one of these mind walks?”
Chief Joseph shook his head. “Although we would all hope you would want to, it is not necessary since you are planning to leave tomorrow.”
Dakoda relaxed. “Oh, well good.” She shook her head. “To tell you the truth, even though I have seen a lot with my own eyes and listened to Jesse speak about life in the mountains, it’s just not something I’m sure I’m ready to pursue at this point in my life.” She gave a little shrug. “In fact, I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.”
The chief nodded his understanding. “Some are not ready, and we are prepared for such an eventuality, too. Just as Ayunkini can lead you through the mind walk, he can also take you down another path.”
Suspicion rose all over again. “What other path?”
“The path of forgetting what you have seen and heard about the Tlvdatsi.”
Dakoda stared at him in shock, her mind working double time to process everything he’s said. The first thing popping into her mind was it sounded too sci-fi freaky. Then again, the whole idea of humans shifting into cougars was way past the norm. “He wants to erase my memories?” she asked incredulously.
“Ayunkini can lift away memories, easily and with no pain or trauma,” the chief explained. “His plan is to take you back to the day of your partner’s death, before you were taken captive and witnessed Jesse’s transformation. Without those memories, you will still have all you need to pursue prosecution of the men who killed your partner, but without the knowledge of our people. The only thing you would know is that we found you wandering, dazed and a little confused, and returned you to your people.”
Returned me to my people, her mind broke in, tossing the unbidden thought into the arena. I thought you were my people…
But no. They weren’t her people. They would not—could not—accept her until she’d made a vital step toward embracing the truth simmering beneath her skin, embraced and harnessed the power of her true soul.
Dakoda struggled to sort through the implications of his proposal. She had to admi
t this was a turn she totally hadn’t expected. And, holy cow, it was a massive one, running over her like a freight train without brakes.
If she agreed, this past week would be wiped away, as temporary as words written in chalk on a blackboard. She’d know nothing but vital facts. The rest would be gone, excised from her brain like a cancerous tumor.
A breath caught in her throat, a painful sensation working its way down into her lungs. Tightening, squeezing, then ripping and tearing as her oxygen drizzled away. Losing those days would mean losing Jesse. Everything would vanish. She wouldn’t know she’d met him, shared an adventure with him. Or made love to him.
Lose Jesse, as she’d lost so much of her life already?
I can’t, she thought. There had to be another way.
Using a napkin to wipe her mouth, Dakoda slowly pushed her empty bowl away. “I’m not giving up my memories,” she said, keeping her words level but firm. “If there’s one thing that’s not negotiable, Chief, it’s that one.”
Jesse shot her a look, one of hopeful elation dancing across his face. “Then you’ll consider staying?”
Dakoda’s stomach lurched at the eagerness behind his question. Though she had no doubt about her desire for him—her body gave her away every time he touched her—she had a commitment to her duty first. There had to be a way to make the two meet and run parallel without jeopardizing either. She just wasn’t ready to make a final break with either side of herself.
She laid a gentle hand on his. He knew exactly who he was and what he wanted from his life, and who he wanted in it. Her.
Dakoda knew she owed him the same consideration. Giving it should have been easy, but it wasn’t. “Don’t ask me to make a decision about us until after the law settles with the Barnett brothers,” she said quietly. “I owe my partner a decent burial and justice from the men who put him in the ground. Anything less would dishonor his life and make me a woman who doesn’t keep her word. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do what is right.”
