Native Born

by Jenna Kernan

  “It was unavoidable,” she said, her voice straining. “And he can’t hurt anyone again.”

  “Because you stopped him.”

  As he had stopped thirty-six. Had any of them been women or children? She couldn’t ask.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I stopped him.” She met his gaze, seeing the dangerous glitter in the eyes of a dangerous man.

  “You should cancel your speech.”

  Clyne’s face showed nothing but determination.

  “Not a chance.”

  Cassidy was relieved to see the reinforcements from her department arrive. Security was tight for the rally and Clyne, minus his body armor, spoke to a crowd of energetic activists. She was so busy watching for threats that she almost did not hear his speech. But his rich baritone did break her concentration, rumbling through her like a far-off locomotive.

  After the rally, Clyne met with local officials, was interviewed by the media and finally headed back to security, where he could not be convinced to allow additional agents onto his sacred land. So it was Cassidy and Luke again, winding back up the mountain at midday. Gabe met them at the border of the reservation with another officer, who escorted them to tribal headquarters. Luke left them there and she followed Clyne back to his offices, where it seemed the entire tribal council and half the police force waited to greet them.

  She filled Gabe in on everything that had happened while Clyne busied himself with his computer.

  Both their phones awoke simultaneously, hers beeping and his pounding some tribal drum ring tone. She retrieved hers first and saw the name and image of her attorney appear on the screen. Her jaw dropped and she glanced to Clyne. He was scowling at his phone and then his eyes met hers.

  His attorney. She was certain.

  They both held their ringing phones in statuesque silence for one more instant. It could mean only one thing. The judge had made a ruling on her appeal.

  They both turned, giving each other their backs as they took the calls.

  Cassidy punched the answer button.

  “Hello?”

  Chapter Nine

  Her attorney continued as Cassidy tried to understand what he was saying.

  “But she’s twelve,” said Cassidy. “By law, Amanda is old enough to choose to be adopted outside her tribe.”

  Her attorney’s breath rattled across his phone’s mic sounding to her like static. “The judge felt it was not a fair choice for Amanda to make since she does not remember her family.”

  “I’m her family,” Cassidy snarled into the phone. Why did this have to happen in the center of tribal headquarters, in front of half his tribe?

  “I’m sorry, Cassidy. Child Protective Services is on their way now to pick her up.”

  “Now?”

  Cassidy was on her feet. She didn’t remember clearing the doorway or leaving her assignment. She just found herself in the parking area, rummaging for her keys as she clutched the phone to her ear.

  “I’m coming.”

  “No. Don’t,” her attorney said.

  “But they can’t just take her,” she said.

  “They are taking her. I’ll head over there now. But I can’t stop them.”

  “How long?” she asked.

  “Six months,” he said.

  She sucked in a breath.

  “Can I go with her? Help her with the transition?”

  “No.”

  She’d see about that.

  “I have to go.” She hung up and then fumbled to pull up her contact favorites list on her mobile but her fingers weren’t working right and the screen blurred. She swore and tried again.

  Amanda was at school, of course, and could not pick up. Her daughter was allowed to carry her phone but could use it only at lunch and before and after school.

  Cassidy was calling Gerard’s mother when she received a text reply from Amanda. The phone began to ring as Amanda’s message popped up.

  ?up

  Cassidy translated her daughter’s message. What’s up?

  Gerard’s mother answered. Cassidy’s voice cracked as she rushed to tell Diane the situation.

  “Should I go to the school?”

  Cassidy didn’t know. Diane couldn’t stop them from taking her granddaughter, but she could speak to Amanda first.

  Amanda’s next message popped up.

  mom u there? w/b

  Cassidy translated her daughter’s message. Mom? Are you there? Write back.

  “Yes. Please tell her.”

  “Can she come back here, pack some clothing?”

  “I don’t know. Bring her some things. But hurry. Diane. Hurry. They’ll be there soon.”

  She disconnected and saw Clyne alone in the lot, heading her way with his phone glued to his ear. He didn’t have the look of triumph she had expected. Why hadn’t she anticipated that when they served the judge Amanda’s notarized request that something like this could happen?

  The Indian Child Welfare Act was very clear. There were only three reasons a Native American child could be adopted outside their tribe. If the adopting parent was the biological parent. If no member of the child’s tribe was willing to adopt and finally, if the child had attained the age of twelve years and chose to be adopted outside the tribe. It was this final stipulation that Cassidy’s attorney had argued. And received a conditional denial because Amanda had been only two when she left her birth family.

  Cassidy had been aware of the ICWA when she adopted Amanda but as her daughter had no kin, the issue seemed moot. During this challenge, her attorney had been so certain that, regardless of the ruling, Amanda, since she was now twelve, could just choose to be adopted away from the Cosens.

  If she’d had even an inkling this might happen, she would have been home guarding her daughter instead of up here on Black Mountain.

  What was a conditional denial anyway?

  Cassidy didn’t know what kept her upright. The pain in her chest was swelling like a balloon. She could hardly breathe. She tried to text but her fingers, clumsy on the tiny keyboard, made a mess. She swiped at the tears and checked Clyne’s progress. She had to get a message to Amanda.

  thr comeing. Judge rules U going 2 biological family 6 mo. today.

  Clyne reached her. She turned away, clinging to her phone. Her lifeline to her daughter.

  WDYS? Mom? WDYM? ?U@

  Cassidy interpreted her daughter’s text. What did you say, Mom? What did you mean? Where are you?

  Cassidy tried again, typing madly. Wishing she had learned more slang so she could write faster. Her phone dinged again.

  cnt tx. po po <3 u. *4

  Cassidy read the message. Can’t text. Police. Love you. Kiss for...

  *4U. Kiss for...you. It was how Amanda ended all her texts. But her daughter had not had time to finish. They had her phone. They had her. Cassidy burst into tears.

  Clyne touched her shoulder. “Cassidy, I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t resist as he dragged her in and held her right there before the tribe members streaming by on the way to headquarters. She should pull away and tell him she didn’t need his sympathy. Instead she clung and sobbed.

  “They’re taking her.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not there with her.”

  “It will be all right.”

  She clung, burying her face in his topcoat, smelling wool and the faint aroma of cedar and sage, and gave voice to her deepest fear.

  “Six months!” she sobbed.

  Clyne stroked her head. “Come on. We have to go back in.”

  She pushed back. “No. I can’t.”

  “All right, Cassidy.” He glanced back toward the tribal headquarters and his brother Gabe. “Let me get you away fr
om here.”

  She let him guide her to the passenger side of her sedan. She slipped into the seat and he closed the door. Clyne took the driver’s side and asked for her keys. She pressed them into his palm.

  “They have her,” she said, her voice just a whisper.

  “I know.”

  “Will you let me see her, just for a minute, to explain?”

  Clyne gave her a look of pity. He’d won. He could afford to be gracious or not. By the time she had her tears reined in, she realized they were pulling into the casino hotel. Clyne guided her through the lobby. She should be looking for threats, but she ducked her head, like a coward and allowed him to lead her along. Even after Gerard’s passing, she had never felt so lost.

  Of course Clyne knew everyone at reception and several of the folks working the floor. Even in the elevator he met an acquaintance. She was happy her dark glasses covered her eyes but knew they didn’t mask the tears running down her cheeks or the pink nose that always accompanied her waterworks. She hadn’t cried since Gerard’s funeral and then only after his family had departed, Amanda had retired and she was alone in her bedroom.

  Clyne helped her with her key card. She remembered to lock the door behind them and throw the latch.

  He said nothing to this precaution as they made their way into the room. He crossed to the window and drew back the curtains. She sank into the love seat.

  “Got a view of the mountain,” he said. “That mountain is sacred to us. We believe that we are related to the stone, trees and wind. The mountain is a relative and there are spirits that live there. They are called Ga’an.”

  She cradled her head in her hands, trying to stop her shoulders from shuddering as she listened to the soft melody of his voice telling her the origin of his people.

  He sat on the long rectangular footstool, his legs splayed on either side of hers. He rested a hand lightly on her knee.

  “In our ceremonies, Apache men dress as the Ga’an, Crown Dancers, summoning the mountain spirits to help protect our people from disease and evil. I have been a Crown Dancer. All my brothers have been. Together we have danced for our people. There are five spirits, four Crown dancers who are painted all in white and one sacred clown in black. During the dance, they are the spirits. Their dance protects the tribe. Perhaps you have seen photos of men in masks with large wooden headdresses?”

  She shrugged, thinking she had not.

  “Well, that is the embodiment of the Ga’an. The headdresses are made by powerful medicine men and blessed in a sacred ceremony. When the Ga’an dance together, they are powerful. But more powerful still is Changing Woman. She is a goddess who makes the land and people fruitful. Every spring she is young. In the summer she is fertile. In the fall she is bountiful and in winter, she grows old. But come spring she is young again. Once she grew so lonely that she made man and woman out of a piece of her own skin.”

  Cassidy lowered her hands from her eyes, mesmerized by his voice as much as his words.

  “When a child is born, Changing Woman will dance. She is also called White Painted Woman. We have ceremonies for births, weddings and to bless a home. She also dances at the coming of age ceremony for girls. It is like a sweet-sixteen party, wedding and New Year’s festival all mixed together. But also like a christening, because it is when a girl is welcomed to the tribe as an adult. The ceremony takes four days.”

  “Four?”

  “Yes. Much of this time the girl must dance. Apache girls must prove they are strong enough to be Apache women. Part of the ceremony involves painting the child white. By doing so, she becomes the embodiment of Changing Woman. Her dance is sacred. All girls look forward to their Sunrise Ceremony.”

  Cassidy’s suspicions stirred. “You didn’t tell me this to distract me.”

  “No. I did not.”

  “Why, then?” But she was certain she already knew.

  “My brothers and I have dreamed of dancing at our sister’s Sunrise Ceremony. My grandmother has made her dress and moccasins.”

  “When does a girl become a woman?”

  “In the summer she turns thirteen.”

  “Amanda is only twelve and a half.”

  Clyne shook his head. “She will be thirteen this summer. The ceremony takes place on July 4 each year. It will be good for this to be a day of celebration.”

  And they would still have her then. She could become Changing Woman and afterward she would be an Apache woman. And then, she would have to choose between the family of her birth and the one she had made that day when she took Gerard’s hand.

  Cassidy stood and excused herself to wash her face and repair her hair. She gave up on her hair and left it down. Another month’s growth and she could resume her low ponytail.

  She found Clyne standing by the window. She slowed, hesitated and considered retreat. He turned to her and smiled. The upturning of his mouth transformed his face from statuesque beauty to a man with more sex appeal than any one person should possess.

  “There is so much I need to tell you about her.” She came to stand beside him. “She is allergic to kiwis and she hates spiders. She loves animals. Always wanted a dog. She loves sports and she is a really good skier. Surfer, too, but I can’t see...”

  He pressed a finger to her lips. She was babbling.

  “She’s our sister. We will take care of her.” His finger slipped over her bottom lip and away, leaving a soft sexual tingle in its wake.

  She looked up at him. He nodded.

  “We will.”

  She let her shoulders sag and accepted what she could not change.

  “All right, then.”

  They stared for a moment and her skin began that tingling itch, an awareness that did not need touch to come alive. Just to be near him made her entire body quicken.

  “I really wanted to hate you,” she whispered.

  “Don’t you?”

  She shook her head. “I think your family is wonderful and that Amanda will be very lucky to have you all as brothers.”

  She didn’t say the rest aloud. Amanda would have the big family she had always wanted, the kind of family Cassidy had once fantasized of having when she was a lonely little girl moving with her parents from base to base.

  “I’m not giving up. I still want her to pick me.”

  His mouth quirked. “Of course.”

  He stepped closer, lifting his hands and gently held her at the shoulders. He pressed his lips together as if trying to keep himself from speaking. Bit by bit his mouth relaxed into the full sensual wonder it was.

  “I think she is very lucky to have a mother like you. Strong, capable and it’s clear you love your daughter.”

  She lifted her brows, half expecting him to qualify his words. He didn’t. Instead he used a crooked index finger to lift her chin. His gaze dipped to her mouth and she knew he was going to kiss her.

  Oh, no, no, no, cried her mind. Yes, whispered her heart.

  Cassidy rocked forward, moving to meet the soft brushing of lips. It was just a whisper of a kiss yet it dropped inside her like the first domino to fall, sending the rest toppling in turn. Her arms went about his neck, keeping him from escape as she lifted to her toes and rocked closer, taking his mouth against hers.

  It had been so long. So damned long and she never ever thought to find this kind of electricity, had never expected it to strike twice.

  His hands splayed across her back. One high and one low at that place where her back became her backside. He pressed and she yielded, letting her hips drop against his and finding what she had expected, hard male flesh. She wanted this, wanted him. And there was no doubt that he wanted her.

  Chapter Ten

  Clyne had only meant to comfort her. But deep down, underneath his compassion, something stirred. Something dangerous.<
br />
  Clyne breathed in as the sweet fragrance of coconut and hibiscus rose to greet him. Walker smelled more like Hawaii than Arizona.

  He drew back to look at her and immediately recognized another mistake. She was captivating. Her fine hair now brushed her shoulders, accentuating her beauty. Her face was heart-shaped and her cheeks and lips a becoming pink. She wore tiny diamond studs on her earlobes. They flashed when she moved and drew attention to the graceful curve of her neck. Field Agent Walker had a lovely complexion. Pale, but lovely.

  She was a head shorter than he was and her build was slim and athletic. Clyne preferred more curves and a darker complexion. He’d dated a few white women, but never for long and never a blonde. Yet here he was, alone in her room, thinking of what she would taste like.

  No. He should walk away. But he didn’t.

  If he could just figure out what the attraction was, perhaps he could stop it or kill it. Because he was not getting tangled up in a relationship with Cassidy Walker.

  She’d been married. She carried a gun. She was a federal officer. And she had adopted his sister. Any one of those made good cause for him to stay the heck away from her.

  “We shouldn’t,” he said.

  She stiffened and her fingers, laced behind his neck, slipped to his shoulders, then dropped away.

  “It’s a huge mistake. I don’t want this,” she said.

  “Neither do I.”

  He stared at her Pacific-blue eyes and knew he was a liar. He wanted her. He just didn’t want what came along with her. A white woman. It wasn’t in the plan. He was going to marry a woman who shared his culture and his heritage. This woman was a complication—a trap.

  “You and I, you’re an assignment. I’ll be gone in a few weeks.”