by Jenna Kernan
She drew back. “Does it matter?”
“Only to me. I had a brother who once sought revenge.”
She knew exactly who he meant because she had read his file. Kino Cosen had joined the Shadow Wolves of Immigration and Custom’s Enforcement and tracked smugglers but he was there to find his father’s killer.
“He got him, too. The very man who took your dad. Must have felt good.”
Clyne’s mouth tipped down. “He said it didn’t feel good. He told me that he didn’t kill that man. In the end he forgave him and made his peace.”
“The report said...” She thought back, recalling the autopsy report. Snake venom. Why had she thought Kino had killed the Viper?
“Seems I can’t forgive myself and you can’t forgive the men who took your husband.”
That was about it, she realized. “You think sleeping together will clear all that up, do you?”
“No. But it’s a connection. That is rare enough.” He stroked her cheek. “Takes it beyond the physical. I’m tired of sleeping with women who do not know me inside. They see a leader. I see a killer. You at least recognize me for what I am.”
“You were a soldier, Clyne. So was I. It’s no shame.”
“I thought if I came home and if I did enough for my people that I could again return to the Red Road.”
“Red Road?”
“It is the proper way to live and die. Indian people follow this path, the natural way.”
“Killing one’s enemies should be part of that way.” She cupped his jaw in both of her hands. “You might not ever forgive yourself, Clyne. But I forgive you and I thank you for fighting.”
The hot tear rolled down his cheek and seeped between her fingers and his jaw.
Then she lifted up on her toes and gave him the kind of kiss she had dreamed of giving her husband when he returned from overseas. A kiss to welcome a soldier home.
Chapter Thirteen
Clyne deepened the kiss as he dragged Cassidy against him. She molded to him as if this was where she was meant to be. Then he realized it was his longing he felt, his need for this woman, too long denied because he knew that she could not be so easily set aside. Because Cassidy knew the warrior’s way. She had made an unusual choice and she had continued the fight. Nothing was more important to her except her daughter.
“Do we know what we’re doing?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
She stroked his shoulders, her fingers kneading the muscles there, wordlessly seeking contact.
Suddenly he felt like some dreadful cliché. Tarzan with his Jane, King Kong entranced by Fay Wray, the cover of every one of those romance novels that showed a naked warrior gripping a nearly naked blonde and had the word savage emblazoned on the cover.
“I don’t date white women.”
She cocked her head. “This isn’t a date.”
He still felt the need to qualify. “I’m going to marry an Apache woman. Someone who understands our culture and our ways and can help me lead our people.”
She shrugged.
“I didn’t want you to think...” His words fell away at the open look of invitation she cast him.
“I don’t.”
She raked both hands through her fine hair that fell immediately back to place. “I have been without a man for a long time, Clyne. And I haven’t missed it. You make me miss the heat and the friction. You make me wonder and fantasize. Maybe it is because we are alike or because we are different. But this attraction is something new. I’ve never had a battle like this before.”
“Is this a battle we need to fight?” he asked.
“Yes, because I’m not sure sleeping with you will make this need go away.”
“It might,” he said.
“What if it doesn’t?”
What, indeed.
The tingle of danger mixed with his arousal increased the ache.
The connection of Jovanna meant they would never be totally rid of each other. Unless his sister chose to stay with Cassidy. That was what Gabe believed would happen. It was why he pushed so hard to have Cassidy here on Black Mountain.
Clyne thought of Jovanna’s tears. Gabe had been right.
His brother didn’t see the battle. He saw the compromise. Clyne was a master of compromise. Why hadn’t he seen it with this woman?
Was it only because he wanted her and so needed her as far away from himself as possible?
Her eyes beckoned, issuing an invitation he could not resist. Her arms circled his waist.
“This will not solve anything,” he said.
She agreed with a nod and stepped closer, offering her mouth. “It will make everything worse.”
She was right. Whatever it was between them was strong and growing stronger. And he knew the best way to get rid of this kind of unwelcome physical need was to get it over with. The rodeo circuit had taught him that much. Lots of tension. Lots of heat and lots of mornings creeping from a hotel bedroom with his boots in his hands.
She could stop him if she wanted. This woman looked at him as many women did. But the difference was that he wanted her, too.
His mouth descended. She met him with a kiss filled with passion and need. Her fingers raked over his shoulders as her tongue danced with his. The urgency and the heat surprised him.
He captured her, pressing them together. Cassidy broke the contact of their kiss and turned away. Her eyes closed and he saw the fine blue veins that threaded across her lids.
“We’re in a custody battle,” she said as if she needed to remind herself as much as him.
“We are.”
“Opponents. I’m not doing anything that will hurt my case.”
He drew back. “Cassidy, in six months Jovanna will have to choose. Sleeping with me won’t change that.”
But she was already slipping from his arms. He let her go.
She disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the water run, the toilet flush and the water again. He should go, but he lingered like the love-sick calf that he was.
Clyne did not want to think about why she made him ache all over. Not just in the obvious places, but down deep in his gut and up in his chest. This was about more than sex. That alone should send him running in the opposite direction.
The door opened and she slipped past him again and into Gabe’s room. He watched her go and wondered if he was falling for this little white warrior woman. She reappeared with the shirt she had given her, neatly folded and clutched to her chest. Then she eased Jovanna’s door open and cast a glance back at him, then into the room. He saw her stiffen and reach. A instant later she held her pistol.
* * *
CASSIDY CAUGHT MOVEMENT and reached for the gun as she retreated a step. Her gaze pinned on the possible threat. The dark shape squatted beside her daughter’s bed.
And then her brain made sense of the image. Not some person creeping on the floor, she realized, but the dog. He stood and stretched, performing that unique bow used only by dogs. He sauntered to her and used his head to brush her hand. She stooped to thump him on the side.
“Good dog, Buster,” Cassidy whispered and holstered her gun.
Behind her, Clyne filled the doorway, blocking out the light and casting a long shadow across the floor.
Buster preceded her to Amanda’s bed, then turned in a tight circle on the rug and curled upon the floor. The dog sighed and then lowered his head, allowing Cassidy to approach her daughter’s bed.
Amanda slept on her side, facing the wall, her breathing even and deep and the stuffed elephant clutched to her chest. A toy of her childhood. The childhood that Cassidy had no part of.
She sensed rather than heard his approach. She turned to find Clyne halfway across the room, tall and im
posing. His presence a comfort.
“Everything all right?”
She nodded, smiling and was rewarded with one of his in return. If possible, it only made him look more appealing.
“I forgot Buster was in here,” she whispered. “She never had a dog. Always wanted one.”
“She remembered Buster.”
Cassidy believed that was so. He drew closer.
“She okay?” he whispered, moving to stand beside her. It reminded her of Gerard, somehow, coming to stand beside their new daughter’s miniature bed after they brought her home. In those few precious months between his first and second deployment, they would stand together and watch Amanda sleep.
Cassidy felt her throat constricting at the losses. Clyne’s family losing this child and she losing her husband. Was it possible to give Amanda the home she deserved away from the family that loved her? She suddenly did not know what to do and that frightened her.
“Will you promise to keep her safe when I’m gone?”
“You going somewhere?”
She glanced at him but found his expression unreadable. “Well, I can’t stay in Amanda’s bedroom forever.”
He neither argued nor affirmed her comment. Just stared at her with dark, unblinking eyes.
“Don’t forget she’s just a child,” Cassidy whispered. “A child who should not have to make this choice.”
Her eyes closed and she held her hands laced together before her mouth as if in prayer.
Cassidy opened her eyes and exited the room, waiting for Clyne to follow. He met her in the hallway and she closed the door.
“When she chooses me, and she will, you will let her go? Drop all your attempts to take her from me?”
His jaw went hard and the muscles of his chest bunched. She held her ground, determined as a badger facing a wolf. His size didn’t intimidate her. She’d fight him to the last breath if she must.
“She would lose everything,” he said. “Her connection to a people and a place. Her identity. Her legacy. She is Bear clan. Born of Eagle.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Exactly my point. You don’t. Jovanna must relearn the language of her people. Begin her training so she will be ready for her Sunrise Ceremony.”
Cassidy’s eyes narrowed. “The womanhood thing? She’s a girl. She just bought her first tub of pink lip gloss, for goodness’ sakes.”
“So it’s already begun, her transition to a woman.”
“Hardly.” But the signs were there. The interest in boys and her abandonment of the childish toys that once were so important.
“I spoke about Changing Woman. Jovanna will become her during the ceremony. Not pretend to be her, she will be her. And she will dance and pray. We will all pray for her to become the best possible woman.”
“Are there drugs involved? Peyote or some such, because I will bust you, all of you, so fast.”
Clyne rolled his eyes. “You see. This is the trouble. You don’t know anything about us.”
“I know it’s illegal to give drugs to a minor.”
“We won’t.”
“Fine. Dress her up in feathers and beads. It won’t change her.” She scowled at him. “I just want my daughter back so I can get her out of here.”
Now Clyne scowled. “What is so wrong with Black Mountain?”
“Let’s see.” She lifted her hand to tick off the reasons on each finger. “Unemployment rate. Dropout rate. Teen pregnancy rate. Violence against women.” She ran out of fingers. “Oh, yeah, and a major drug syndicate.”
Clyne’s expression fell. “But she belongs in this place. You can’t take her away from here.”
“Not yet I can’t. But once this ridiculous separation is over and she makes her choice, I surely can and you can’t stop us.”
“Why? Why is it so important to take her away from the place of her ancestors?”
“Because I need to get to a real field office. One where I can do some good instead of busting bank robbers, kidnappers and drug traffickers.”
“Real? What does that even mean?”
“Where the bad guys are. The important ones.”
“You mean Al-Qaeda, ISIS?”
“Yes.”
“In other words, terrorists.”
One brow lifted and he considered her for a long moment. “You know that the illegal immigrants have included members of both of those organizations, right here in Arizona.”
“And the cases are made in NY and DC. I need to be a part of that.”
“Why?”
She didn’t answer. She’d already told him too much. Cassidy turned to leave him but he took hold of her elbow, urging her to face him.
“Why, Cassidy. Why ISIS and Al-Qaeda?”
She threw the words at him, hurling them from deep down inside herself where she had kept them alive, burning like a coal ember.
“Because those are the men who killed Gerard.”
She slapped her hand over her mouth as her eyes rounded. She had not meant to tell him that.
He reached for her and she shuffled back, letting her hand slip from her mouth.
“Good night, Clyne.”
He stopped his advance. “Cassidy, wait.”
She didn’t, instead she made a quick march back to her daughter’s room. Sometimes retreat was the best course of action.
Cassidy closed the door and lay her pistol and shoulder holster on the book shelf. Then she quickly undressed, leaving on only her panties and then slipping into the overlong T-shirt. The cotton was soft and clean and smelled of soap. It wasn’t until she was standing beside the closed wooden door that she looked down at the T-shirt he had provided for her. It read: I ♥ Rez Boys.
Cassidy let out a groan. She forced herself to march across the room and slipped in beside her slumbering daughter. She forced herself to stillness as she recalled Clyne’s earthy scent and his words. Why was it so important to take her away from her home, her people and her tribe? To say she slept would be a mistake. Dozed, roused, listened, dozed, from well after midnight until the early hours before morning.
She woke to a noise similar to the high-pitched whine that alerted her to one of Amanda’s nightmares. She was already halfway out of bed when she realized she slept beside her daughter. The whine became a shout. But it was not Amanda. That was the voice of a man and he was screaming.
Cassidy’s ears pinned back at the ferociousness and she crept across the floor to retrieve her pistol, removed the safety and headed for the door.
Chapter Fourteen
Cassidy slipped into the hallway. Someone was already there. The light flicked on and Cassidy recognized Glendora, her expression startled as she took in the picture of Cassidy in the hallway gripping her pistol.
“What is that sound?” asked Cassidy. Then she realized that the shouts came from Clyne’s room.
“He has nightmares ever since coming home,” said Glendora, motioning to Clyne’s room.
Cassidy slid the safety back in place and lowered her weapon. Glendora shuffled past her and knocked on the door.
“Mama?”
Cassidy recognized her daughter’s voice coming from her new room. She went to her daughter, finding her sitting up wide-eyed in bed. Buster was no longer on the floor, but sitting beside her daughter on the mattress as Amanda clung to his shaggy coat.
“It’s all right, doodlebug. Your brother Clyne is having a nightmare.”
It was the first time she’d called him Amanda’s brother and the realization brought her up short.
“He has nightmares, too?” Amanda’s grip on Buster loosened.
Cassidy sat on the bed.
“Are they about breaking glass?” Amanda’s therapist thought the breaking glass drea
m stemmed from some early childhood experience. Now Cassidy understood, it was the car crash. Amanda had been in the accident that had killed Tessa Cosen.
“I don’t know. Maybe you can ask him tomorrow.”
The shouts stopped and the house went quiet. A few moments later she heard Clyne’s door shut and Amanda’s open.
“You two all right?” asked Glendora.
“We’re fine, Gramma,” piped Amanda.
Glendora offered another good-night and left them.
Cassidy stretched out beside her daughter. “What do you think of them?” she asked Amanda.
“I love them,” she said instantly. They were quiet for a time and she thought Amanda had dozed off when she spoke again. “Mama?”
“Yes.”
“Would it... Could you... Will you call me Jovanna from now on?”
Cassidy felt the stabbing pain as some deep part of herself began screaming.
“Why do you want that, doodlebug?”
“Well. It’s my name. The name my first mother gave me.”
“Oh, I see.” She held back the burning in her throat and thought her words sounded almost normal. “Well, I can try. But you might have to remind me sometimes.”
“Okay. Thank you, Mama.” Her arms came around Cassidy’s neck.
Cassidy held her daughter, wishing that Amanda could have her brothers and her grandmother and still stay with her forever. She thought of Clyne and his insistence that he marry an Apache woman. Of Gerard promising to come home. Things didn’t always go as you hoped. Amanda’s arms slipped from her neck as her daughter cuddled in her bedding, settling for sleep.
Cassidy might be different from other women in his life and she understood some of the issues he faced as a vet. They might even share a physical connection that she knew was unique. But there was one thing they did not share—his heritage. And no matter what she did, there was just no way she could ever become Apache.
* * *
CASSIDY WOKE AND checked her watch. It was a little past six. She eased from her daughter’s bed and headed for the hallway, pausing only to retrieve her pistol from the bookshelf. Then she continued to the bathroom at the end of the hall. She opened the door and paused at the billowing steam and the scent of soap and shaving cream. Clyne stood naked before the bathroom mirror with a white towel slung over his neck and his bronze skin made even darker in contrast to the white shaving cream covering one side of his face. He held a razor in one hand and the other gripped the sink.
