Читать книгу Montana Midwife - Cassie Miles - Страница 10

Aiden relished the look of shock on Tab’s face. It wasn’t easy to ruffle her feathers, but he’d succeeded. She recovered her poise quickly. Her gaping mouth snapped shut, and her full lips smoothed into a slightly upturned line that wasn’t exactly a smile. Under her breath, she muttered, “Good thing you warned me about this little something. I might have shot him.”

No fear. Her first thought was to grab her rifle and stand ready to protect herself. He liked that attitude. This lady wasn’t about to scream or take off running, not her. Not Tab.

Thinking of her as Tab instead of Tabitha was becoming easier. The longer name—Tabitha—rolled off his tongue with an almost musical resonance. Tab was one crisp, practical syllable. It suited her. The way he figured, a woman named Tab could stand up for herself while a Tabitha would be the type to flutter her eyelashes and swoon.

“Who is he?” she asked.

“His name is Wally, but everybody calls him Buffalo Man.”

“Certainly not because of his size,” she said. “He couldn’t weigh more than one twenty-five including the fur cape and ski poles. What’s he doing here?”

“He camps along the river. I spotted his tent when I did my visual sweep in the chopper.”

Feet together, the scrawny gray-haired man hopped toward them, mimicking the technique of a downhill skier. Gradually, he was coming closer.

“He could be the shooter,” Tab said.

“I don’t reckon so. His campsite is another mile or so downriver. He was there when I flew over.” Besides, Aiden had become fairly well acquainted with the old man. “He’s not a murderer. A thief? Maybe. But not a killer.”

Wally claimed to be part Crow, but nobody on the rez claimed him back. A drifter, he’d been in this area for three or four years. When he occasionally showed up at the Gabriel ranch looking for work, Aiden would find him something to do with the stipulation that Buffalo Man take a long soak in a hot tub and shave his whiskers. In a lucid moment, Wally had confided that he’d lost his job, his wife and his house, but he wasn’t sad or self-pitying. He’d chosen to go back to nature.

Usually, he wasn’t so talkative, and today he said nothing as he approached. When he was about five feet from them, Aiden caught the whiff of a powerful stench—the smell of old campfires and dirt. He held up a hand. “That’s close enough, Wally.”

Buffalo Man bared his yellow teeth in a grin. “That’s a pretty horse.”

“Thank you,” Tab said. “Do you live out here?”

“It’s my right. I’m Indian, like you.” He cocked his head to one side. “You’re Maria Spotted Bear’s granddaughter.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know things. Lots of things.”

“You’d better not be spying on my grandma,” she said. “I wouldn’t like that.”

He dug the tips of his ski poles into the earth and planted his fists on his skinny hips. “I am not a Peeping Tom. I have my dignity. You can ask Aiden. Go on, ask him.”

“Wally does work for me at the ranch. He’s a good handyman.”

“Handy Wally, that’s my moniker.”

Aiden watched Tab’s expression as her suspicion faded. It was her nature to be friendly. Her tribe had a tradition of welcoming strangers and sharing whatever they had. She took a step toward Wally and held out her hand as she offered a Crow greeting. “Ka-hay. My name is Tab Willows.”

He vigorously shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Tab.”

“It must get lonely out here. If you’re hungry or want company, come to my grandma’s house.”

“I don’t take charity.”

“I wasn’t offering,” Tab said. “We’ll make a trade. My grandma can use the skills of a handyman.”

His yellow smile split his wizened face. Peering through his tangled mop of hair, his eyes were alert and intelligent. “I would be honored to visit the home of Maria Spotted Bear.”

Though Wally had never shared his prior occupation, Aiden believed he was an educated man. His use of language was usually correct, he had a decent vocabulary and he was smart enough to know how to survive in the wild. His antisocial weirdness came from a lack of interaction with other people. He chose to be a hermit. But that didn’t mean he was nuts.

“I have a couple of questions for you,” Aiden said. “No doubt you noticed the commotion this afternoon.”

“Gunfire. I heard it. And I saw Tab riding across the hills, coming from the east. And the chopper.” He looked up at the fading light of the afternoon. “I saw your chopper. You must have seen me, too. I waved.”

Aiden nodded. “What about people? Did you see or hear any people on the ground?”

Abruptly, Wally hunkered down on the ground. His voice lowered to a whisper. “After the gunfire, I thought I should take a look and see if anybody needed my help. Voices carry a long way out here.”

“Could you hear what anyone was saying?”

Wally pointed to Tab. “You. I heard you talking.”

“What about earlier than that. Before Tab, did you hear voices?”

He shook his head. “I was too far away. When I got close, I heard your baby sister.”

“Misty,” said both Aiden and Tab.

“She laughs a lot.” Wally gave a creaky chuckle of his own. “A pretty sound. Her laughter sounds like splashing water. Not like the other girls who come out here with their boyfriends. They squeal and shout and make a terrible ruckus with their parties.”

Half-Moon Cave had always been a favorite gathering spot for high school parties and make-out sessions. The opening of the cave was a wide arch, similar to a band shell, and the interior provided shelter from the wind and rain. Aiden guessed that if they crossed the river and went to the cave, they’d find the remains of campfires and plenty of rusted beer cans.

“The sheriff is going to be here soon,” Aiden said. “He’s going to want to talk to you about what you saw or heard.”

“No, sir. This is reservation land. I don’t have to talk to the sheriff.”

“Joseph Lefthand will be here, as well,” Tab said. “It’s important to help them. There’s been a murder.”

“I know.” Wally popped up. “I got close enough to see the dead man, and then I turned around. None of my business.”

“Did you know the man who was killed?” Aiden asked.

“I might have seen him before. Once or twice. I see a lot of things. People don’t much notice me.” He looked directly at Tab. “Not that I go out of my way to spy on people. I mind my own business.”

Aiden stepped closer to Wally and looked him straight in the eye, compelling his attention. “Bad things have been happening on or near the rez. Young girls from Henley and Billings are going missing. At least one of them was murdered. Have you seen or heard anything that could lead to the killer?”

“The man who was killed was here with a girl. She had hair like a golden waterfall.”

“If you saw her photo, could you identify her?”

Wally stroked his beard and considered. “It was after dark, and I didn’t really see her face. She was wearing a baby-blue sweatshirt.”

That item of clothing could help identify David Welling’s companion. “Did you hear them talking?”

“He said her name.” Wally tugged harder on his beard. “Ellen or Elizabeth. It was something like that.”

David might have a connection with one of the missing women. And David had been murdered. If Wally stepped forward as a witness, it could put him in danger. He shouldn’t be camping out here by himself.

Aiden patted him on the shoulder of his buffalo robe. “Until this is over, you might want to come and stay at the ranch. My mom has some work for you. She’s going to be putting up Christmas decorations.”

“I’ll come after the weather gets colder,” Wally said. “Right now, it’s nice and warm. The river is low and slow. I go swimming in it every day. Keeps me young.”

Aiden hoped Wally’s outdoor skills would also keep him alive. He hated to think of anything bad happening to the eccentric old man.

AFTER TAB RETURNED TO HER grandma’s house, she took care of Shua and fed the horse in the barn beside the corral. By the time she transferred her medical supplies from the saddlebags into the back of her van, the dusk had turned into dark—a still, calm night. The deep solitude soothed her. Not that she would forget the murder, the threat of a serial killer and the potential of jail time for pregnant Misty. Tab was involved, truly involved, and she was committed to doing whatever she could to help.

But not right this minute. For now, she needed to clear her mind. She inhaled. The cold night air swept into her lungs and refreshed her mind and her spirit.

A few months ago, when she moved back here, she’d been worried that she’d be bored to death. Though the Crow half of her DNA connected her to this land and the traditions of her tribe, she’d spent most of her life in cities like Billings and Missoula where there were things to do and places to go. Not that her social life had ever been a whirlwind of parties and dates. Instead, she’d kept herself busy with her schooling and with work. After graduating from nursing school in Missoula, she’d been part of a midwife clinic that also offered prenatal and postnatal care. She’d learned so much from the other midwives.

Now, she worked alone. She was the expert.

Outside her grandma’s house, she looked up at the moon and the millions of stars that spread their silvery light across the hills and distant cliffs. A couple hundred yards away, she saw the lights from other homes where the Martins and the Tall Grass families lived. The only sound was the rustling of wind across the prairies and the winged swoop of raptor birds hunting in the night.

Light shone through the windows in her grandma’s kitchen where Maria Spotted Bear was probably preparing dinner and not wearing her wrist brace. Though the cast had been removed, Tab wanted Grandma Maria to protect her injured wrist until she was full strength. Twice a day, they performed therapeutic exercises. Every night, her grandma wrapped her wrist in herbal poultices. The same combination of Western medicine and Crow healing practices applied to the pills Grandma took for her heart condition.

As soon as Tab came through the front door, she heard Grandma singing in the kitchen. The stereotype of the stoic tribal elder didn’t hold true for her grandma who always seemed surrounded by music and happy chatter.

Entering the kitchen, Tab saw her grandma remove a tray of cornbread from the oven. The wrist brace was nowhere in sight.

“Don’t worry,” Grandma said as she set the cornbread in the center of the kitchen table. “I can lift this. It’s not too heavy.”

“Smells good.” Tab wasn’t in the mood to argue. She hugged the rounded shoulders of the small woman whose long white hair was fastened at her nape with an ornately beaded barrette. “Do you know the one they call Buffalo Man?”

“A crazy old badger. He lives down by the river.”

“Just to warn you, I kind of invited him to drop by anytime for dinner.”

“That’s my Tabitha.” Her grandma chuckled. “From the time you were a little girl, you were always bringing home strays.”

“His real name is Wally, and he’s willing to work for his supper as a handyman. Having him drop by might be useful. The barn roof needs patching.”

“How did this new friendship happen?” Grandma sat at the kitchen table. “You left the house to deliver a baby, and you picked up an old man in a buffalo robe.”

“Long story.”

“The stew can simmer for a while.”

Not holding back, Tab told the whole story of Misty and the murder, the possible serial killer connection, the chopper and Aiden. When she mentioned his name, she heard a breathless change in her voice. She pictured the tall, lean cowboy, and a rush of excitement went through her. In an attempt to hide that reaction, she turned her back on Grandma and opened the refrigerator door to take out a pitcher of cold water.

“Aiden Gabriel,” her grandma said. “He’s a handsome man.”

“Is he?” Her tone pitched to a higher octave. “I didn’t notice. I was more concerned about his sister.”

“You don’t fool me. When you were a girl and spent the summer at the Gabriel ranch, you liked him, liked him very much.” She sang a little song about sailing away with the man of her dreams. “Didn’t you ask me for a totem to cause a man to fall in love with you?”

Tab didn’t deny it. “I was a silly teenager then.”

“And now, you’re both grown up. Could be good timing. From what I hear, Aiden broke up with his long-time girlfriend. She lives in California and doesn’t care about ranch life.”

Tab poured cold spring water into a Mason jar and took a sip. People who lived on the rez seemed isolated, and yet the gossip grapevine relayed information more quickly than cell phone texting. “How do you know so much about Aiden’s love life?”

“His mother and I see each other often. I bring her baked goods, and Sylvia gives me beef. She’s happy about the blessing of a new baby.”

“It doesn’t bother her that Misty is so young and so unmarried?”

“If anyone understands about unexpected pregnancy, it’s Sylvia Gabriel.” Grandma leaned back in her chair and folded her hands on her lap, a signal that she was about to tell a story. “Sylvia nearly died in childbirth. She had a difficult labor, ending in Caesarian section and a serious loss of blood. But after she had Aiden, she wanted more children. She and her husband tried everything. I know this because she came to me and asked how to increase her fertility.”

Maria Spotted Bear not only had a reputation as an excellent baker but also for healing and cures. Tab had learned young how to locate, harvest and prepare many herbs for teas and salves. “Red clover, squaw berry and yams. Those are all good to promote fertility.”

“Nothing worked and she gave up—satisfied to have a healthy son and a good marriage. Fourteen years later, when Sylvia was thirty-seven years old, she had Misty. A happy surprise.”

Her cell phone buzzed. The screen showed Aiden was the caller. As soon as she saw his name, she remembered that she’d promised to call him when she reached her grandma’s house.

“I’m home,” she said when she picked up. “We’re just about to sit down for dinner.”

“I’m glad, but that’s not why I was calling.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that he trusted her to take care of herself, or to feel bad that he wasn’t checking up on her.

“Misty asked if you could come over to the ranch tonight, maybe in an hour or so. Is that convenient?”

His tone was cool and distant, more appropriate for a business transaction than a personal request. “Aiden, what’s going on?”

“They found another body. She’s from Henley, and her name is Ellen.”

That was the name Wally mentioned. He’d said that Ellen was with David Welling. “A blonde?”

“Yes.”

She heard other voices in the background. They were arguing. “What else?”

“The victim was wearing a gold, engraved wristwatch. It belongs to my sister.”

The link to another murder was bad for Misty. Her story about the mystery gunman who grabbed her rifle and disappeared sounded even more flimsy. Tab didn’t know how she could help other than to offer moral support. Sometimes, that was enough. “I’ll be there.”