“Are you some kind of policeman or private investigator? Do you have a background for this kind of thing?” she asked.
“That I do not. But I have my McKenna gifts. And you have your da’s powers if you will only free them. Together, we may be capable of anything.”
A statement that made her take a big breath and press back the fear that threatened to swallow her whole.
TIERNAN WAITED PATIENTLY for Ella’s answer. Once more, her fear came at him in waves. He could understand why she would be afraid to follow in her da’s footsteps, afraid that there would be those who would watch her, expecting only evil from her. Who wouldn’t be afraid to face death?
He wouldn’t have suggested they investigate, but he didn’t think they had a choice. One way or the other, Ella would be in danger. Better to face that danger head-on and cut it off before it got out of hand.
And perhaps if they found proof enough to convince the authorities of murder this time, ’twould make up for the last, when his aunt was written off.
Ella said, “I would like to know who was doing the things The People blamed Father for…the reason for his death. But me using some mysterious powers?” She shook her head as if that were impossible.
Tiernan didn’t believe her, of course. She was in denial, whether purposely or not. She didn’t want to explore what to some was inexplicable. He had his own family secrets. Not all the McKennas were forthcoming about their psychic gifts—he wasn’t forthcoming about the nightmare he’d lived since childhood—so he understood. Still, he also knew that, whether or not she wanted to believe it, the power would be there for her whenever she chose to call on it.
Whether or not she would choose to do so was another question.
“Then let us begin by using knowledge,” he suggested, thinking the other could wait. “See if we can figure things out by talking it through.”
“Don’t you think I’ve thought on what happened for years? The person responsible for doing bad things on the rez had to be someone who corrupted spiritual powers.”
“And that would be someone who had them, as well.”
“I suppose.”
“Was there another shaman competing with your da?”
“No, not that I ever heard. Father had three apprentices. Nathan was one of them. He and Leonard Hawkins tried to stop the crowd. The third apprentice was Jimmy Iron Horse.” Her voice turned bitter on the last.
“It sounds as if you suspect this Jimmy.”
She nodded. “He was with the crowd that horrible day. And now he’s head of the tribal police, in a position of great power.”
“And your cousin Nathan is connected to an organization of activists.” He couldn’t ignore the power he’d felt from Ella’s cousin.
“I don’t think he gets a salary from the organization,” Ella said, “but he doesn’t seem to be hurting for money.”
Tiernan had noticed the gold buffalo hanging from Nathan’s neck. That had been worth a pretty penny.
“What about the third man?”
“Grandmother told me Leonard Hawkins runs the casino and has the fanciest spread on the rez.”
“So he has influence, as well,” Tiernan mused. “Three men, three kinds of influence—military, political, financial. But what kinds of powers may they have learned from your da and how have they used them to get where they are?”
She cast her eyes down on the now-empty glass. “I—I’m not sure. Perhaps none of them was responsible.”
Was Ella not sure or did she not want to implicate one of them? Tiernan wondered. Or was her hesitancy due to some other reason altogether?
Knowing it was likely one of the apprentices had manipulated the situation, wanting Ella to be comfortable with their approach, Tiernan asked, “So how do you suggest we start our investigation?”
“Talk to people, I guess.”
“The men themselves?”
The suggestion made her pull away slightly. She took a breath and nodded. “I’ve been planning to talk to Nathan…but I suppose we need to talk to them all.”
“Nathan first because he’s your cousin?”
“He cared about Father,” she said quickly. “Nathan tried to save him.”
For Ella’s sake, Tiernan hoped that was true and that Nathan hadn’t simply been making a big show to take suspicion off himself. “What about the others? The casino manager?”
“Leonard. We could talk to him tonight, I suppose.”
“Too late,” Tiernan said. “I need to be up and on the set before dawn. Tomorrow, perhaps. We could head there right from the set.”
“Okay.”
“Ella, was one of the three more adept at shamanistic abilities than the others?”
“I’m not really sure, but Father always said Nathan worked the hardest.”
Her growing discomfort was clear to Tiernan. He could not only feel it, he could see it in her expression, in her body language. Guilt at thinking it could be Nathan Lantero.
“You have a bond with him.”
“He is my cousin.”
“Is that the only reason?”
Her eyes told him she was fighting with an old emotional wound. “Nathan saved my life.”
Ella absently rubbed at her left arm through the sleeve of her blouse. Tiernan wanted to ask her why, but something kept him from it, made him leave it to her to tell in her own time. He’d gotten enough from her for one night. He was, after all, still a stranger to her.
Not for long, though, Tiernan thought, feeling his gut clench and his throat tighten. It was clear to him that soon enough they would know each other in a way that most people couldn’t even imagine, and while he knew he should avoid the situation—avoid her—he wasn’t going to.
A slippery slope this, but Tiernan told himself he could handle it, he could be around the woman without invoking the family curse.
All he had to do was make sure he kept his distance and didn’t fall in love with Ella Thunder.
Chapter Five
Tiernan had given her a lot to think about, and Ella was half distracted throughout the next morning as she worked with Jane Grant on set. Together, they watched the crew prepare for the Ghost Dance.
“After the opening prayers,” Ella said, thinking of the real Ghost Dance, now more than a century old, “the participants joined hands and danced in a circle. The sick danced in hopes of being cured, and as the dance went on for hours, many of them fell unconscious or went into a trance.”
Jane was taking notes. “We’re planning on following Little Fawn, but other dancers could fall around her. I’ll talk to Max about it,” she said of the film’s director Max Borland, who was working with his camera crew at the other end of the pasture. “It’ll be up to him, of course.”
Hoping the director was as concerned with the authentic details as Jane seemed to be, Ella continued, “Afterward, the dancers would sit in a circle and relate their experiences and visions.”
They talked some more about the little details that could be added to the scene to make it more realistic. Then Jane said, “I’m going to go over the dance sequence with Max, see what he thinks. Why don’t you take a break.”
A little hungry since she’d left too early to get breakfast, Ella retreated to the large canopied area that served as the mess tent. There were a bunch of tables and food carts. She fetched herself a mug of coffee, a hard-boiled egg and a banana. A few crew members and more actors sat and studied scripts as they ate.
Ella spotted Bear Heart, a friend of Grandfather’s who’d defied Lakota statistics to live into his mideighties. She didn’t remember seeing him in the crowd that had demanded her father’s death, so when he stood and waved her over to his table away from the others, she acquiesced.
“Ella Thunder, I would recognize you anywhere. You look like Joseph.”
“Thank you. I am honored.”
“Joseph would be proud of such a daughter, one who is educated and sees that The People are represented fairly and accurately
in this movie.”
“I’ll do what I can,” she promised. “What are you doing here?”
His grin split his leathered face. “Making my movie debut and becoming a matinee idol. Women will swoon when I dress in my feathers.”
Ella laughed. “I’m sure they will.”
Bear Heart picked up his tray. “Welcome home. You are needed.”
Ella’s laughter faded and she waited for him to say something about her following in her father’s footsteps, but he simply stared at her a moment longer and nodded his satisfaction, then took his tray to the clearing station.
Ella claimed the table for herself. Peeling the shell from her egg, she couldn’t help but wonder what Tiernan was doing right now.
With their agreement to investigate the deaths of her father and Harold Walks Tall, a delicate bond had been woven between them. Her only worry was Tiernan’s belief that she had inherited her father’s powers.
How had he even known about that? After Father’s death, she’d buried anything she’d known about shamanistic abilities, so who would even guess what was possible? Surely Tiernan hadn’t spoken to anyone about her.
“Ella, can I talk to you for a moment?”
Startled out of her thoughts about the man, Ella looked up to see Marisala Saldana, the young Lakota woman who was playing Little Fawn. In the film, her character would fall in love with one of the young soldiers and run away with him only to die for love.
Marisala slid into the seat opposite Ella. “I need a love potion.”
Ella raised her eyebrows at this statement. The woman was breathtaking with naturally bronzed high cheekbones and full lips that would be the envy of any model. Marisala could no doubt get any man she chose just by blinking those amber eyes at him.
Why in the world did someone so beautiful think she needed the aid of magic?
“I don’t do love potions,” Ella said. “I don’t do any potions at all.”
“But I’m sick with love, Ella.”
Marisala was as dramatic as only a young woman could be. Fifteen years ago, she’d been ten, a mere child, with nothing to do with Joseph Thunder’s death, so Ella was comfortable being herself around the other woman.
“Are you saying there’s a man with a pulse who isn’t interested in you?”
“Oh, he’s interested, but I want to bind him to me in a way no woman before ever has.”
No doubt Marisala was hoping for marriage, Ella thought, then wondered who the man might be. Lakota? Or someone from the cast and crew?
“That kind of commitment takes time, Marisala. It’s something you need to work on, not rush.”
Although she hadn’t had a good example at home, Ella remembered. Marisala’s father had left her mother high and dry, with no other family to turn to.
“I can pay,” Marisala wheedled. “I’m not like the others. I have plenty of money.”
Again Ella arched her eyebrows. Marisala’s father left her and her mother penniless. She continued to live on the Bitter Creek Reservation, with no visible means of support before landing the role, but plenty of money? Hmm, maybe she was being paid more than Ella imagined.
“It’s not a matter of money,” Ella told her.
“Please, I’m desperate to get power over this man.”
Ella frowned at the odd way Marisala phrased the request. Power? The idea made her uncomfortable.
“Nevertheless,” Ella said, “there’s nothing I can do for you.”
“But you’re a shaman. You’re supposed to fix whatever is wrong with a person, aren’t you?”
Ella sighed. “I’m not a shaman.”
“That’s not what The People say. They say you trained with your father from the time you were a child. That you have powers. Some even wonder if you’re like him—evil—but I don’t believe it.”
Ella nearly choked on her coffee. Her heart began to thunder. People thought she was evil?
After seeing the raven’s track and then connecting it to her, had Jacob gone back to the rez and started spreading nasty rumors?
“I’ll tell you again. I’m not a shaman. I have no powers. I don’t know how to make potions.”
“If you don’t know anything, then why are you acting as consultant for the spiritual scenes?”
The young woman’s incensed tone made Ella lose her patience. Feeling as if she’d been cornered, Ella had to get away from Marisala. “I’m sorry, Marisala,” she said, rising and taking her half-empty mug of coffee, “but I need to go consult. Now.”
“Oh, all right. I’ll leave you alone,” Marisala called after her. “But if I can’t figure out what else to do to solve my problem. I’ll be back to get what I need. Or else. People shouldn’t cross me—”
Ella cut her off. “Consider me warned.”
What kind of a threat was that supposed to be? Marisala sounded as if she could be a little vindictive if she didn’t get what she wanted, Ella thought as she went in search of Jane Grant. Marisala could spread rumors about her as easily as Jacob. Hopefully the threat was empty.
Approaching the Ghost Dance set, Ella spotted Jane with Max. Rather than being in conference as Jane had suggested would happen, the producer and director were sharing a close, personal moment. Jane’s back was against a fence and Max Borland was so close a piece of paper wouldn’t fit between them. The director was tall and powerfully built, his youthful-looking body in contrast with his leathery skin and silver buzz cut. He had to be twenty years older than Jane, but the age difference didn’t seem to make any difference to either of them.
Wondering if they’d been a couple in Hollywood or had found each other out here in the wilds of South Dakota, Ella kept her distance and waited in a shady area set up with chairs. Perhaps their relationship gave Jane more power over what went on in the movie.
Forcing the encounter with Marisala from her mind, Ella purposely thought about Tiernan and his willingness to help her, a virtual stranger, delve into the past.
Like Marisala, Tiernan had talked about powers that she’d turned her back on fifteen years before. She wouldn’t know how to call on them now. How did he know the potential was there? she wondered again. Perhaps Tiernan really was psychic, knowing things that a normal person wouldn’t.
Which made him unsafe to be around, Ella thought, reminded of her father’s fate.
If the wrong people decided he was doing something he shouldn’t with his psychic abilities, Tiernan could be a danger to himself, and to her, as well.
Good reason not to get too close.
ALL DAY LONG, Tiernan thought about Ella anytime he wasn’t dealing directly with the horses, which kept his mind occupied, so by the time they met at the parking lot, he was eager to see her. Too bad they didn’t have a more positive reason for being together. Whenever he was around her, he had trouble thinking straight.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
He could not only sense her nerves, he could see them in her eyes, in the way she forced her lips into a smile. That she feared what she would learn might be natural, but her physical reactions made him suspect there was something deeper at work here.
Ella cleared her throat and asked, “Are you sure you really want to do this? If it was the beer talking last night, I’d understand.”
“I wouldn’t be letting the brew do my talking for me, sweet Ella. I am at your service,” he said with a sweep of his broad-brimmed hat. “So ’tis to the casino, then?”
“Right. I called to make sure Leonard was there now. He’s supposed to be working all night.”
“Will you be riding with me?”
She nodded. “I caught a ride with Nathan this morning so we wouldn’t have two vehicles. I mean, I can walk home from the casino.”
“Good thinking.”
When they got to his truck, Tiernan opened the passenger door and tried to help Ella inside. She moved too fast for him and dodged his hand as though she couldn’t bear for him to touch her. Frowning, he closed the door and circled the truck. H
e couldn’t help feel some disappointment at Ella’s cues—she obviously didn’t want to get too close.
Perhaps that was for the best. He found her attractive—too attractive. It wasn’t just her looks, but her struggle with who she really was. And her heart—big and brave. She was willing to face a scary past to get to the truth of what happened to her father.
Ella Thunder was the kind of lass a man could fall in love with, which for him, was unthinkable. He really should stay away from her.
He really should.
Starting the engine, he glanced at her. She seemed too deep in thoughts of her own to notice.
As he left the parking lot, he considered the complexity of why he really had agreed to help her. Yes, he thought Harold Walks Tall’s killer deserved justice, but he didn’t know the man any more than he knew Ella’s da.
He was doing this for himself—as if it could make up with his failure to convince the gardai that his aunt had been murdered—and he was doing this for Ella.
There had to be a reason for the psychic connection he sensed every time he was near her—surely she felt it, as well. He had never experienced anything quite like that with another woman. There had to be a reason for it. Fate. Something he couldn’t avoid.
Maybe the unexpected connection was the very reason that Ella had avoided him, however. Maybe that’s why she’d looked so scared. He got it. Truly. But he couldn’t stay away from her. Even knowing that he was asking for all kinds of trouble, Tiernan couldn’t not try to help Ella—to protect the too-vulnerable lass—in any way he could.
“Anything I should know about this Hawkins lad before I meet him?” Tiernan asked.
Ella shrugged. “I don’t know him as an adult. I haven’t even seen him since I returned. I remember Leonard as being not so serious about becoming a shaman. He always came up with some excuse to get out of the work he didn’t want to do. I know he exasperated Father at times. But he was still young—maybe twenty—and always charming in his apologies, always making promises to do better. Father never had the heart to send him away.”
Stealing Thunder Page 6
