Читать книгу Eagle Warrior - Jenna Kernan, Jenna Kernan - Страница 14

Chapter Seven

The man was a chameleon, Morgan thought.

Ray now stood at a respectable distance from Morgan, his powerful arms folded and his posture relaxed. Even his smile was different. His expression held none of the banked desire she’d witnessed. Instead she saw only a benign hint of a smile that made him seem, if not exactly safe, at least not imminently dangerous.

She cleared her throat and forced a tight smile.

“Lisa honey, dinner is ready.”

Lisa had halted on the bare floor where the carpet runner had been pausing at the place where hallway gave way to the worn floor tiles of the kitchen. The cat sat at her heels, tail tucked around its front feet. They both stared at Ray with curiosity. Lisa’s eyes were focused on Ray as if seeing a rattlesnake coiled in her path and calculating her way clear. Her dark eyes seemed to assess a new potential threat. Her girl had more sense than her mother, thought Morgan.

“Lisa, this is Mr. Strong. He will be staying in Pop-Pop’s room for a while.”

“Why?”

While Morgan debated how much to tell her, Ray stepped forward as Lisa slid a foot backward, preparing to retreat.

“Because the man who broke in here was looking for something of your grandfather’s. You have friends at school?”

Lisa nodded.

“Anyone ever have a big secret?”

Lisa nodded again.

“What happened to that secret?”

Lisa looked to her mother and then fixed her attention on Ray. “My friend told our other friend and she promised never, ever to tell, but she must have because I didn’t tell and then Bobby Farrow knew and he told all the boys.”

“Exactly.”

He didn’t draw the connection. Just waited. Morgan waited, too.

“So that man, the one who grabbed my mother, he’s going to tell Pop-Pop’s big secret?”

Ray nodded. “Smart girl.”

Lisa’s eyes widened in understanding. “And Mr. Heron. He knows because I told him that man asked Mom for the money.”

“Yes.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Morgan went to her daughter and brushed her thick black hair from her face. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”

Lisa kept her attention on Ray.

“How did you know that the man would hurt us?”

“I didn’t. But I’ve been watching over you two for a while now.”

That made Morgan’s attention snap from her child to Ray. How long had he been watching them?

“I’ve seen you at the store and other places.”

Ray nodded. “That’s right. I got asked by a friend of your grandfather’s to watch over you and your mama.”

“Do you know the secret?”

“Just that it’s about money. Hidden money.”

Morgan didn’t think Lisa should know that. Didn’t want her at risk. But she was at risk, whether she knew or not.

“It’s here?” asked Lisa.

“Nobody knows where.”

“Except Pop-Pop, so let’s go ask him.”

Ray glanced back at her and Morgan nodded. That was the logical next step.

“Tomorrow,” said Morgan, knowing there were visiting hours then. “Wash up. Dinner is ready.”

Lisa moved to the kitchen sink and washed her hands. Morgan eyed him and he followed Lisa, but he had already washed his hands when he’d removed her intruder’s blood. Morgan fed the cat some mush from a can. Cookie, apparently, ate first.

They sat down to a meal of tomato soup with mac and cheese. Ray finished his portion and glanced around for more, finding the only remaining pasta on Lisa’s plate. He glanced at Morgan who shot him a stern look. She was such a fierce feisty woman it made him smile.

After supper, Lisa drew out her school books and mother and daughter sat together. Morgan read the paper and helped Lisa as needed. Ray took the opportunity to bring his things into Karl’s room and to peer out all the windows on the back of the house.

He heard someone enter the room and turned to see Morgan standing with a mound of folded sheets in her arms.

“I thought I’d change these,” she said, lifting her arms slightly to indicate the linen.

“Thanks.” He stripped off the lovely Pendleton wool blanket that had bold black stripes on a field of red and had the top sheet off before she reached the bed.

“I can do this,” she said.

“So can I. I was in the US Marines for a while. One thing I learned was how to make my bed.” He’d also perfected his aim with a rifle and handgun. Ray had already known a thing or two about hand-to-hand combat and had more practical experience tracking than most men gleaned in a lifetime.

“My father fought in Vietnam.”

Ray knew that. He’d shared a few stories with Karl at their medicine society.

“Sharpshooter,” said Ray.

Morgan’s jaw dropped but she recovered. “That’s right.”

She pulled free two corners of the fitted sheet and he released the corners on his side. Morgan began replacing the linen and Ray worked on the two pillowcases. They worked in silence with a fluidity that made their motions seem almost like a dance. They leaned over the bed from opposite sides to place the pillows and their eyes met. Morgan flushed so Ray guessed she was thinking of him stretched out on these clean white sheets...alone...possibly naked.

She straightened and threw out the top sheet so that it fluttered to his side. The blanket followed. She placed a clean sage-green towel on the foot of the bed.

“There. You’re all set.”

“Thank you again. And for letting me stay.”

“I have great respect for Kenshaw Little Falcon and for my father, despite what he has done.” She sat on the bed, her hands splayed on the red wool, her shoulders slumped again in that whipped-dog posture he despised. She glanced up at him. “Do you think people deserve second chances, Mr. Strong?”

He sat beside her. “I’ve already tried to kiss you, Morgan. I think you should call me Ray.”

He wanted to try again.

“Fine. Ray. My father killed a man. Probably for money. I can’t get my mind around that.”

He’d killed more than one man, Ray knew. More than Ray had killed. Karl had been very good at his assignment in Vietnam.

“I can think of two reasons he might want to earn money.”

She looked at him. “You mean me and Lisa. I would much prefer to have my father here with us. You might not believe this, but he was wonderful with Lisa. Very kind and patient. He’s been with her since she was born, more a father to her than a grandfather, and she doesn’t understand any more than I do why he would do such a thing.”

“We’ll ask him tomorrow.”

Her sigh was heavy and Ray felt an unexpected urge to comfort her. That wasn’t his forte, holding women who were wearing their clothing. But he wrapped an arm around her and tried to ignore the flowery fragrance of her hair. It took a few moments and his remembering being rocked back to sleep by Mrs. Yeager during one particularly vivid nightmare, but he finally remembered a long-forgotten skill, one he’d learned without realizing. Comfort was not something that women came to him for. Never before, actually, but Morgan hadn’t come to him. He’d been forced on her. He had to remember that.

She sagged against him and rested her head on the hollow between his shoulder and collarbone. Funny, the rocking and the warmth of her little body against him made him close his eyes to savor the sensations. And suddenly she was comforting him.

This was what it must be like, he thought, to have a woman not just to sleep with but to hold. The awkwardness eased and they sat there quietly. When she pushed away he felt the tug of regret.

“Sorry about that,” she said.

He wasn’t sorry but how could he say so?

“That’s okay. Happens sometimes.” It never happened, actually.

She stared up at him and, bang, there it was again, that ache in his chest and the zing of attraction that crackled. Ray dropped his arm from her shoulder and down to her waist.

“Oh,” she said. Morgan inched away and met with the resistance of his arm as he tightened his hold.

“My daughter is in the other room,” she said.

That broke his concentration. His arm fell away and Morgan rose to her feet, perhaps belatedly realizing it is always unwise to enter a tiger’s cage even if it appears docile. She backed toward the door, pausing just inside the threshold with one hand on the doorknob, as if preparing to slam it shut and flee. It was the kind of chase he’d enjoy, but only if she would, too. He smiled as images of Morgan, playful and laughing, danced in his mind. They’d roll on the couch and onto the floor, where he’d let her sprawl on top of him, pink cheeked and giggling.

“So...we’ll go see my dad tomorrow at the jail? Ask him about the money.”

Ray let the daydream end as reality encroached. He wanted to go right now but he could see that Morgan was done in. And he knew that Lisa’s bedtime varied only slightly on the weekends. And federal authorities were very strict about rules like visiting times for prisoners.

“Yeah. First thing.”

Morgan looked scared all over again but there was no helping it.

“I have to put Lisa to bed.”

He heard Lisa complain and the television snap off. Lisa slowed at his door and stared at him before her mother pushed her along. Lisa’s room and his shared a wall and hers was at the end of the hallway. A few minutes later Lisa walked past his room again wearing pink pajamas that made her look about seven instead of ten. Who was that girl’s father?

Had he died like Ray’s or simply slipped away? He couldn’t imagine having a child...or a woman like Morgan. They seemed so normal and unprepared for the chaos that had swept them up. Why would Karl do this? Money didn’t seem like enough reason to leave these two to the wolves. He hoped like heck that Karl hadn’t planned on abandoning them and taking the cash. It would be hard to keep his temper if that was the case. Ray had always been in loose control of his temper and there were many places to lose it. One place he had never lost his temper was with a woman or a child. Never had. Never would. Was that why Kenshaw had chosen him?

Ray checked his mail and texts. Lisa appeared in the door with her mother at her back.

“Good night, Mr. Strong. Thank you for saving my mom tonight.”

Ray stood to face the child, feeling as out of place as a war club at a child’s tea party. He shrugged by way of a reply.

“Mom says you were an army man.”

Ray winced. “Marines.”

“I’m glad you know how to fight. Do you have a little girl, too?”

Ray glanced at Morgan whose expression told her that Lisa had gone off script.

“No. I don’t.”

“A wife?”

“Not one of those either.”

Lisa’s smile seemed satisfied and her eyes glittered with devilment. Ray knew when he was being set up. Normally he’d be saying good-night, which he was, but this time he’d be staying under the same roof with Morgan right across the hall.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Lisa strode forward and offered her hand.

Ray hesitated. She was thin and tiny and her hand was so very small. But he shook hers as if sealing some deal.

Then she surprised him again by thanking him formally in perfect Tonto Apache.

“My grandfather taught me that,” she said.

He watched Lisa pad from the room on bare feet and wondered what else Karl had taught her.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING Ray woke to the sound of a shovel rasping against gravel and earth. He headed for the window that faced the backyard. The sun wasn’t even up and there was Guy Heron digging up the tire planter in the backyard. The ceramic toad lay on its side next him, one eye staring up at the sky. Ray swore and then tugged on his jeans. He hoped the guy didn’t have a job that required him to see out of both eyes.

Ray was out the door a moment later. The day was gray and the air temperature lower than crisp. Heron took another shovelful of earth and dumped it on the ceramic frog. Then he knelt to check inside the hole.

Ray’s approach was soundless, not just because of his bare feet whispering over the ground but because of his training here on the reservation and with the US Marines. But still Heron spotted him before he reached him. The man sprang to his feet, gripped his shovel and ran across the driveway that separated the Hooke territory from the Herons’, but there was no distinction as all land here was communal. There Heron stopped as if protected by some invisible boundary, the kind that Anglos drew all over the earth. He expected better from a member of his own tribe.

“I didn’t find anything.”

Ray kept coming. Heron made his second mistake of the day. He held his ground.

“This here is my property.” He motioned with the shovel at a line that was not there and then lifted the shovel as if he intended to use it like an ax.

Third mistake, thought Ray as he came to a stop.

“This here?” he asked, marking the line that didn’t exist with an index finger.

Heron nodded.

Ray did a fair impression of a mime meeting an invisible wall. Heron’s brow knit as Ray seemed flummoxed by the barrier. His big finale was jabbing Heron in the eye.

Heron’s knees buckled but Ray grabbed him by the collar before he fell to his face. Then he dragged him back across the driveway and to the hole he had been digging.

“You taking up horticulture?” asked Ray.

Heron struggled, choked and dropped his shovel.

Ray threw him onto the freshly dug soil.

“He just planted these,” said Heron. “Right before the shooting.”

Ray placed his fists on his hips and admired the speed with which Heron’s eye swelled shut.

“Last night I told you that you should stay away from Morgan and her girl.”

“And I didn’t go near them.”

Ray pointed at the ground. “This counts.”

“I just thought, you know, maybe I could help her find it.” He motioned toward the hole.

Ray grabbed Heron’s wrist. A moment later he had that wrist behind Heron’s back and the man’s cheek pressed into the earth to the edge of the hole.

“Don’t help her anymore because if you do, I’m going to use your shovel to bury you in this hole.” He forcibly turned Heron’s head so he got a mouthful of the dirt. “Do we understand each other?”

Heron spat and wiggled but stopped when Ray increased the pressure on his wrist and shoulder.

“All right!”

Ray held him a breath longer by pressing his knee in his back, using it to stand back up. Then he offered his hand to Heron who ignored it as he drew himself up, glared at Ray and moved toward his home in a gait that was as close as a man can come to a jog without jogging.

Ray followed him to the driveway, carrying the shovel Guy had abandoned in his haste. When Guy turned back, Ray sent his shovel after him. The man made a squeak of alarm and broke into a run. There was nothing like the satisfaction that comes from doing what you love, thought Ray.

When he turned toward the house, he saw the shocked faces of both Morgan and Lisa in the window of Lisa’s bedroom. He dusted off his hands and headed toward the house. He tried not to let their looks of shock and horror affect him. He was doing what he’d been sent here to do, but frightening Lisa didn’t sit well and Morgan now looked at him as if someone had let a wild animal loose in her home.

In fact that was exactly what had happened, but until someone found that money that was just the way it was going to be.