by Jenna Kernan
“Yes. I know.” But instead of being a reason to step away, her words gave urgency to his desire. They lacked the luxury of time and the knowledge that it could not last made the connection even more tempting.
She stepped back and away, facing the windows. Clyne eyed her and knew that whatever was between them, words and distance would not staunch. Would bedding her put this behind them both or would it only open the floodgates wider?
He was usually wise. He was usually cautious. Usually.
Clyne advanced. Cassidy lifted her phone.
“I have to check in.”
He smiled. “Yes. Me, too.”
She called his uncle and Clyne realized that Luke likely knew a great deal about Cassidy. They had worked together on several assignments.
Cassidy’s conversation broke into his musings.
“Where?” she asked and there was a pause. “You want me along?” Another pause. “All right. I understand. I’ll go over the audio here. Yes, I’ll do that. Call if you find him.” She tucked away the phone.
Clyne asked the question without words.
She made a face, clearly not inclined to tell him the subject of her business.
“Luke has a lead on Ronnie Hare.”
Ronnie Hare was the parole officer who had been running messages from the cartels to the Wolf Posse. Gabe had nearly caught him in January, but he had escaped.
“That’s good,” said Clyne.
“Yeah. His cooperation would help us make a case against Escalanti, for sure. The police on Salt River Reservation had his family under surveillance but there has been nothing. So we suggested watching a few of his parolees. We got a possible hit.”
“You going?”
“Tomorrow, maybe. I was hoping...”
He didn’t jump to her rescue but made her ask him.
“I’d like to see Amanda.”
Clyne considered the wisdom of having the girl’s adoptive mother there when she arrived.
“No.”
She looked as if he had punched her in the face.
“What if she’s frightened?”
“Jovanna is my sister. I’ll protect her with my life.”
“I’m not talking about protection. I’m talking about a child being taken from everything that is familiar.”
“She’s Apache. She’s strong.”
“She’s a little girl whose favorite color is still pink.”
Clyne set his jaw and hardened his heart to her pleas.
Cassidy threw up a hand, stormed away, spun and retraced her steps. Then she folded her arms before her, jutted one hip and worked a brow.
“Do you know what music she likes to listen to when she’s going to sleep? Or her favorite foods or the names of her closest friends?”
He didn’t, of course. “Those things will come once she takes her place in her family.”
Cassidy’s jaw twitched. “She’s not a clock for your mantel. She’s a little girl who still leaves a tooth under her pillow for the tooth fairy.”
Clyne remained unyielding, though the doubt cramped his belly. What if she was unwilling to know them? Angry at being forced from the home of this fierce little woman?
“I will bring you to see her. But only if she is not aware of your presence.”
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER Clyne sat in the darkness in his SUV beside Cassidy Walker. The two floodlights in his grandmother’s driveway illuminated the yard and road beyond. Glendora Clawson and her husband, Hex, had not waited for Housing and Urban Development to assign them a residence like many on the rez. Instead they’d built a four-bedroom home that had been larger than they needed to raise their only daughter, his mother, Tessa.
His phone rang and he took the call from Gabe. Cassidy watched him as if she were on surveillance until he hung up.
“They reached Black Mountain. She should be here any minute.”
Cassidy directed her attention to the road. A few minutes later a string of three cars turned in. Kino led the procession in his tribal police cruiser. Next came the dark Ford sedan from Child Protective Services and Gabe had the tail in his white SUV.
Cassidy leaned forward as doors opened and the two Cosen brothers appeared. Next came a woman from the rear seat of the Ford. She wore a green down coat that made her look like a walking sleeping bag. The driver emerged, a white man in a black woolen topcoat and red scarf. Finally he could see his sister.
Jovanna slipped from the backseat and into the circle illuminated by the floodlights. She wore a pink nylon jacket unzipped and the floppy sheepskin boots popular with young girls. Her face reminded him of his mother’s in the photos of Tessa as a girl. Only the smile was missing. She had wide brown eyes and a soft round face. Her dark hair had been dyed blond at the tips and strands hung over her face like a shield.
“She’s here,” said Cassidy and reached for the door, before remembering that she was to stay in the car. She sunk back into the seat, then rebounded to lean so far forward that her forehead struck the window.
His grandmother was out of the house now, flying down the stairs, her arms flung wide. Jovanna had time to straighten before Glendora had her in her arms. Clyne smiled as Amanda all but disappeared in the bear hug. His grandmother was weeping, of course. Jovanna’s hands came up and she wrapped her arms about her grandmother. Glendora tucked her grandchild under one arm and motioned to her grandsons. Gabe came forward, Stetson in hand, and leaned to touch his forehead to his sister’s. Kino repeated the greeting and then gave Jovanna a hug.
Jovanna, now sandwiched between his youngest brother and his grandmother, was ushered toward the door, where Kino’s wife, Lea, stood with a hand on her protruding belly beside Clay’s wife, Isabella. Clay stepped from the house holding the collar of a large sheepdog.
Buster she remembered. The dog strained and jumped to be free of Clay’s grip. Clay released the shepherd, who flew down the steps and right to Jovanna. His sister took a step back and lifted her hands to ward off attack but Buster threw himself to the ground, rolling and kicking like a submissive puppy. Then he sprang to his feet and tore away and back to Jovanna before throwing himself down again.
Clyne felt a catch in his throat. Buster remembered the lost member of their family. Jovanna knelt beside their family pet and buried her face in the warm coat.
“She always wanted a dog. Talked about a big shaggy dog. How old is Buster?”
Clyne found his voice held a telling quaver when he spoke. “He’s twelve.”
Jovanna’s face now received a thorough licking as she laughed and straightened. Clay stepped forward to greet Jovanna by touching foreheads and his sister seemed to already have adjusted to this traditional form of greeting.
Clay introduced his wife and then his sister-in-law. Clyne now wondered why he had agreed to bring Cassidy. He was not there to greet his sister as he should be and Cassidy did not seem comforted judging from the tears now streaming down her face.
“She looks like them. Like all of you.” Cassidy’s words were choked with emotion.
“She looks like our mother,” he said. “Her name was Tessa.”
The door opened and the gathering filed inside, Buster sticking to Jovanna’s side as she crossed the threshold. Gabe glanced toward Clyne’s SUV and nodded before closing the door.
Clyne started the engine and drove Cassidy back to her hotel. Right now Glendora would be showing Jovanna the room they had repurposed for her with the blanket that had once graced his mother’s bed.
Cassidy was silent during the drive except for an occasional choking sound. Clyne did not like to see a woman in pain even if it was the woman he had fought in court for the past eight months.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “My family owes you a great debt.”
That see
med to stiffen her spine. “Don’t you dare thank me. I haven’t lost her yet.”
Once at the casino entrance he tried to walk her in but she stopped him with an outstretched hand.
“Leave me be, Clyne.”
He watched her walk away and wondered why he felt compelled to follow her rather than return to his family. She was messing with his head and making him question what he knew to be true. Jovanna belonged with her tribe and her family. And Cassidy was once a soldier. Surely she understood collateral damage.
Clyne forced himself back into his car. Jovanna was home, where she belonged. He’d won. So why did his chest hurt?
Chapter Eleven
When Clyne arrived home, the late supper was nearly ready and he could not understand why he did not feel the satisfaction he had expected to experience at this moment.
Glendora ushered Jovanna over to him and he looked down at the girl he had dreamed of since he’d learned she survived. He compared her against the little child she had been. He had not been there when she was born because he’d been on a rooftop in Iraq. And on the day his sister had left them for her first competition in South Dakota, he’d been riding the rodeo and sending all he could from his winnings back to his mom, who had just separated from their dad. He had seen his sister briefly, then almost two, on visits home. Kino, the youngest of the brothers, had been nine when Jovanna was born.
Jovanna stood and accepted the touching of foreheads and then the greeting in Apache that she did not return. The spark of fury ignited. She’d been robbed of her native tongue, her culture and her family. All because of a stupid bureaucratic mistake. If not for that mistake Cassidy would have a Sioux baby who had no other home and his family would never have lost Jovanna. But then he would never have known Cassidy.
That didn’t matter. It couldn’t.
“Jovanna, do you remember me?” Clyne asked.
She gave her head a little shake and her silky hair slipped over her shoulders. He stared at the blond tips that he now saw had a distinctive pink tint.
He lifted a strand and scowled at the cultural intrusion. This little girl was now as much white as she was Apache.
“Well, perhaps in time,” he said and released her hair. “We welcome you back to your home. Our people have lived in this place for thousands of years.”
She looked around and then back to him. “Doesn’t seem big enough for all those people.”
Kino burst out laughing. Jovanna had a sense of humor. He quirked a brow not sure if that was good or bad.
“Supper time,” announced Glendora.
Jovanna rested a hand on Buster, who accompanied her to the table and sat at her feet. It seemed this shepherd was not going to let this sheep out of his sight again. He looked at Clay with his bicolored eyes as if to say, “You lost her.”
It was only an ordinary Wednesday but his grandmother had made it a holiday with a pot roast cooked with potatoes and root vegetables. Nothing too exotic. But when they sat to eat, after the prayer to thank the food, Clyne noted that Jovanna did not take any of the meat.
Glendora noted the same thing and glanced to him in confusion. His sister’s plate consisted of bread and green beans.
“Is there something wrong?” asked Glendora.
“Um. No, everything is fine,” said Jovanna, looking very small surrounded by her brothers and their wives.
“You don’t like pot roast or potatoes?”
“I love potatoes. It’s just...”
Lea took up the conversation. “I couldn’t eat meat when I first got pregnant. Just the smell.” She rolled her eyes.
Clay looked at Jovanna and hazarded a guess. “You’re a vegetarian?”
Jovanna nodded. “Yes.”
“What? You’re Apache. We’ve raised cattle for hundreds of years. We all have cattle in the communal herd. This is from our herd,” he said motioning toward the meat.
“I don’t eat anything with a face,” she said, but her voice now trembled.
Glendora placed a hand on Clyne’s arm, a signal to stop talking.
“The potatoes don’t have a face, unless you count the eyes.”
Jovanna smiled. “But they were cooked with the meat. I’m sorry, Grandmother. I don’t want to be rude. I just think animals should not be food.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Clyne.
Jovanna’s eyes went wide and glassy.
His grandmother rose from the table and disappeared into the kitchen.
“We’re hunters and ranchers,” said Clyne, lifting his hands in frustration. “We have some of the best trout fishing in the country not twenty minutes from here.” He pointed east toward Pinyon Lake.
Jovanna seemed to grow smaller in her seat.
His grandmother returned with a jar of peanut butter and jelly.
Jovanna smiled as a look of relief lifted her features.
Clyne’s scowl deepened. Peanut butter and jelly, on the dinner table.
He continued to glower as Kino took up the conversation, recalling tales of his childhood of which Clyne had no recollection because he had already been in the service at that time. Kino told stories that involved Jovanna. When he mentioned the time she had used a green marker to color the family dog and herself, Jovanna straightened.
“I remember that!” She looked at her hands as if seeing the green marks. “I remember that. How old was I?”
Kino’s smile was sad. “You just turned two. It was right before the contest. Mom was furious because she didn’t think the ink would come off before then.”
Clay broke in. “I was supposed to be watching you, so it was my fault. Boy, was she angry.” He smiled.
“She scrubbed me in the tub.” Jovanna pointed to the bathroom. “Here. In this house.” And she inhaled and looked around as if for the first time. “I lived here!”
“That’s right,” said Glendora. She expertly made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and offered it to Jovanna.
“Why did we live with you, Grandma?”
The men went quiet but Glendora replied. “Your mom and dad were having some trouble.”
Some trouble, thought Clyne. His dad had been a drug trafficker and his mom had been right to get his siblings clear of him. It was what Clyne had used his signing bonus on. Money for his mother and siblings until she could get her feet under her.
“Where is he?” she asked.
Kino went pale. He’d been there, hiding under a kitchen table in their dad’s home when their father’s contact had murdered their dad. Thankfully a tablecloth had kept him from seeing Kino but also kept his little brother from seeing the killer’s face.
“He’s gone, too, sweetie,” said Glendora. “He died a long time ago.”
“Oh,” said Jovanna, and her expression of joy dropped.
His sister would never know their father. Clyne didn’t know if he should be heartbroken or relieved. Both, he decided.
The somber moment passed when Clay launched into stories of their mother. How she sewed contest regalia for powwow dance competitions and danced. Jovanna munched her peanut butter sandwich and drank her milk. After the meal they shared a cake with Welcome Home Jovanna written in blue frosting on the top.
Everything went well until Kino and Clay said good-night and left with their wives. Gabe announced the ongoing investigation and took his leave shortly afterward. His grandmother took Jovanna down the hall to the bedroom and he and Buster trailed along. His sister had only her school backpack, so Glendora offered a worn flannel nightie that looked miles too big for her granddaughter. On the bed, Glendora had placed some of the stuffed animals that had belonged to Jovanna a lifetime ago. Buster left Clyne’s side to sit at Jovanna’s bedside, resting his head on her knee.
Jovanna sat on the bed and lifted a lavender
elephant with wide felt eyes. She studied the toy she once called Fafa and tucked it under her arm. Then she set it aside and rested a hand on Buster’s head.
“Do you have a Wi-Fi code?” asked Jovanna.
“A what?” asked Glendora.
“To connect to the internet. I want to write my mom.”
Glendora glanced to him. He shook his head.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. We don’t have that here.”
“Oh.” Jovanna did not quite hide the crestfallen look.
From there it all fell apart. It must have struck her that she was going to spend the night in a strange house with these strangers who were her family.
Her lip trembled and tears sprang from her eyes. She sank to the floor and wrapped her arms about Buster. Her words where more wail than speech.
“I want my mom!”
Glendora spent the next hour trying to comfort Jovanna while Clyne paced up and down in the hallway.
In his mind, Jovanna’s return had gone much differently. Jovanna would remember them and slip back into her old life. Now he saw the problem with that plan. He’d never really considered his sister’s feelings. Only what was best for her.
Gabe had tried to warn him. Even said flat out that their sister had already lost one mother and that making her lose another would be cruel.
Cruel.
That was something Clyne never intended. He knew it was best for children to be raised by their tribe. He knew in his heart that without that heritage the Indian part of them died. But his philosophical and moral stand did not take into consideration the pain of his sister’s tears.
Her first night back with her family and Jovanna was sobbing into Buster’s damp fur.
Glendora stepped out into the hall. She held the doorknob as she met Clyne’s gaze.
“What do we do?”
“Only thing to do is let her cry. She’s homesick.”
“But this is her home,” said Clyne.
“She’s not a cactus. You can’t just plop her down anywhere and expect her to grow.”
“She belongs here.”
“She does. But she was just escorted from her school by police officers and dropped here like a sack of laundry. She wants to be a part of this family and to have her big brothers around her. But Clay and Kino won’t be here for her. They’re starting families of their own. Gabe is going to marry Selena.”
