by Myrna Temte
A puzzled expression crossed Maggie’s face. She folded her arms over her breasts and studied Julia for a moment. “I thought you really wanted this job. You’ve already seen the salary schedule, and I’ll be happy to answer any other questions you have about benefits, or—”
Julia shook her head. “That’s not necessary.”
“Then why are you hesitating?”
“I guess I’m not sure I’m the right person for the job.”
“You’ve handled the kids beautifully all summer,” Maggie said. “You’ve had nothing but rave reviews from the parents, and you did so well during your interview, the committee voted unanimously to offer you the job. Your references from Arvada are wonderful. You’re officially certified in Montana. Sounds good to me.”
“But I really don’t know what it’s like to grow up on a reservation. Maybe I can’t teach these kids as well as someone who shares their values and experiences.”
Maggie rolled her eyes like an exasperated teenager. “Gee, I wonder where you heard that ridiculous idea. No, don’t tell me, let me guess. Would it have been Sam Brightwater? Or Sam Brightwater?”
“It doesn’t matter where I heard it. And maybe it’s not so ridiculous.”
Maggie huffed at her. “Yes, it is. In the first place, it’s not your job to teach the kids Indian values. That’s their parents’ job and the tribe’s job. That’s why we have the after-school classes taught by the tribal elders. You could even take some of those classes if you’re interested.”
“I suppose I could.”
“In the second place, most of our kids will eventually have to find jobs off the res, so they need positive role models of Indian people who have learned how to work and compete in white society. They need teachers who can pass on coping skills in both cultures. You’d be great at that.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Besides, the beauty of the tribal system is that everyone is valued for whatever contribution they can make. What we really need are teachers who will treat our children with love and respect, and you’re already doing that.”
Holding up her hands in surrender, Julia laughed. “Okay, okay, I give! I’ll do it.”
“Good. Now I won’t have to get out the brass knuckles.” Maggie wrinkled her nose at Julia, laughed, then headed for the doorway. “I’ve got to go back to the cafeteria. The rest of the committee’s down there arguing over the other applicants.”
Julia finished shelving the books, making a mental list of all the things she would need to do to get ready for her new job. The more she thought about it, the more excited she felt. Using the phone on the librarian’s desk, she made a quick call to Melissa North and arranged for time off from the Hip Hop, then left the building, eager to go home and tell her father the good news.
“Hey, Sam!”
The sound of Julia’s voice calling his name made Sam want to gnash his teeth. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t seem to avoid her for more than a day or two. He’d stopped at the Indian school for a final inspection of the new wing before he turned it over to the volunteers in charge of the interior finishing work. Then he’d intentionally waited to leave for an hour past the time Julia usually dismissed her reading class.
“Sam. Sam, wait a minute.”
He turned to face her and immediately wanted the ground to open beneath his feet and swallow him whole. She wore a sleeveless white shirt with indecently short cutoffs, showing off her long, elegant bare legs and slender feet to perfection. Her hair hung loose and attractively tousled around her face and shoulders. A smile wide enough to engulf him stretched across her mouth, and her eyes sparkled with animation.
He wanted her so much he hurt, and he was sick and tired of hurting because of her. Pivoting hard on his left heel, he hurried past her without speaking, climbed into his pickup and slammed the door shut. She came right up to the truck and smiled at him through the open window.
“Sam, wait. I have something to tell you.”
“I’m not interested,” he said, forcing the words from between clenched teeth. “I’m not interested in you or in anything you have to tell me. Can’t you get that one, simple little idea through your head?”
She jerked back as if he’d punched her in the nose. “But, Sam—”
“But nothing. Leave me the hell alone.” Before the guilt mushrooming in his gut could overtake him, he cranked the key in the ignition and gunned the engine.
A pained expression flitted across her face and he prayed she wouldn’t cry. He needn’t have worried. An instant later, she pulled herself up straight and tall, her eyes practically shooting sparks at him. She shouted to make herself heard over the noise of his pickup. “Fine, Sam. Whatever you say. I won’t bother you again.”
He sincerely doubted that. She bothered him just by breathing. He could hardly say that, however. Instead, he put the truck in gear and drove away, painfully conscious of Julia standing in sunshine and watching him, her shoulders held rigidly back, her arms crossed over her chest, her face angry and hurt.
Well, if he was lucky, she’d stay angry with him. No matter how strong the physical attraction between them, they weren’t right for each other. And if he told himself that often enough, maybe he’d actually start believing it.
When Sam’s pickup finally disappeared from view, Julia hugged herself and blinked hard at the tears burning her eyes. She gulped at the lump in her throat, then took a deep breath, turned toward the school and saw Maggie Hawk standing just outside the front door. Arms loaded with file folders, Maggie hurried to join Julia.
“Uh-oh,” Maggie said, studying Julia’s face as she approached. “What did Sam say about your news?”
“I didn’t tell him,” Julia replied. “He didn’t want to hear about it.”
“That big jerk.” Maggie balanced her files on one hip. “What’s gotten into him?”
“It’s not all his fault,” Julia said, inhaling another deep breath in an attempt to maintain her composure. “I’ve been pushing him pretty hard.”
“Pushing him…how?”
Julia quickly recounted her behavior toward Sam during the past few weeks. “I thought he was as attracted to me as I am to him,” she said with a sad smile. “Guess I was wrong.”
“Maybe you’re not wrong,” Maggie suggested. “Maybe it’s just a last, desperate gasp of resistance—”
Julia shook her head. “I don’t think so, Maggie. If you’d seen his face, you wouldn’t, either. If he didn’t dislike me before, he does now.”
A frown wrinkled Maggie’s forehead. “You’re not going to change your mind about accepting the teaching job, are you?”
Though the thought had briefly crossed her mind, Julia hastened to reassure her friend. “No. My decision to move here didn’t involve Sam.”
Maggie swiped the back of one hand across her forehead. “Whew! I hate to be self-centered, but am I ever glad to hear you say that. I’m still scrambling to find one more teacher as it is. I’d hate to try to find two at this point.”
“I really think it’s the housing shortage—”
Maggie smacked her forehead with the heel of her palm. “Speaking of which, I forgot to tell you that Sara Dean called last night and said she and Nick are willing to rent out their house to a teacher this fall.”
“I don’t think I’ve met them,” Julia said.
“They live in Butte now,” Maggie said.
“Sara used to be the curator at the Native American museum in Whitehorn, and she did a lot of volunteer work at the Indian school, too. She met and married Nick when Mary Jo Kincaid was making all that trouble you’ve heard about. They’re both really nice people. Their house is the one I showed you last week.”
“The cute little one over behind the jail?”
“Yeah. The rent’s reasonable, too.”
“That would be wonderful, Maggie. I love my dad, but I’m really used to having my own place. I still feel terrible about taking his room, but he just won�
��t listen.”
“I understand,” Maggie said with a chuckle. “I’ll tell Sara you want it then.”
“Thanks, Maggie.”
Maggie reached over with her free arm and hugged Julia around the waist. “Don’t give up on Sam yet. He probably just needs a little time to get used to the idea—”
Julia snorted in disgust. “You know, now that I think about it, I don’t care if he does or not. This is the first time in my whole life I’ve ever felt like I belong somewhere, and nobody is going to take that away from me.”
Maggie gave her another hug. “Atta girl. Give him hell.”
Julia shook her head. “No. I’ll have too many other things going on to worry about Sam. I think I’ll just do what he wants and leave him the hell alone.”
Seven
Sam managed to avoid Julia all weekend, but when he entered the Hip Hop with his crew on Monday, he figured he’d better watch closely in case she tried to poison his lunch. She was conspicuously absent, however, and she remained absent during the entire meal. Sam assumed she was probably working an evening shift for a change, and considered himself lucky for the reprieve. He really didn’t want to see her again until he had his feelings for her completely under control.
He knew he’d handled everything all wrong on Friday. Whenever he thought about her flirting with him, he just felt so… besieged, so…irritated, so blasted…confused. His resistance to her had been crumbling like substandard concrete, and he’d verbally blasted her in self-defense. Hell, he owed her an apology, and he didn’t have a clue how to go about doing it in a way that wouldn’t make the situation worse than it already was.
Julia was gone again on Tuesday. Sam still felt relieved, but less so than he had on Monday. Contrary as it seemed, he missed her bright smile and cheerful chatter at lunchtime. Since she was by far the best waitress on the day shift, the whole crew also missed the excellent service she provided. Had she permanently changed her schedule because she couldn’t stand to wait on him? The thought gave him heartburn.
She didn’t turn up on Wednesday, and Sam began to worry. What if she was sick? What if she’d been in an accident and nobody had bothered to tell him? He hadn’t seen Dan since Friday, either. What if Julia had told her dad what a jerk Sam had been to her? Were both of them going to avoid him now?
By Thursday, he had to know what was going on. He feared what he might hear if he went directly to Dan or Julia, and he didn’t want to ask anyone at the Hip Hop while his crew was hanging around. Claiming business at the bank, he put Ray Hawk in charge of the job site at three o’clock and drove back to the restaurant.
Talk about bad timing. Lily Mae Wheeler sat in a booth with Winona Cobbs. Short, stocky and white-haired, Winona was Whitehorn’s resident psychic. Sam didn’t need to ask Winona to consult her powers to know that Lily Mae hadn’t yet forgiven him for his rudeness the first time he’d met Julia; Lily Mae’s scowl plainly expressed her feelings toward him for anyone in the restaurant to see. Nosey old biddy.
Giving Lily Mae a polite nod just to bug her, he took a seat at a small table across the room and ordered coffee and a piece of apple pie from Janie Carson. When Janie left, Sam wondered if he was becoming paranoid. Janie was always friendly as a whole litter of puppies, but today even she seemed to be acting cool—no, make that downright chilly, toward him.
She returned a moment later, banging his pie down in front of him, slapping his check beside it and slopping coffee over the rim of his cup into his saucer before stalking away. Well, he hadn’t imagined that behavior. Since Janie and Julia were friends, it wouldn’t surprise him to find out that Janie’s attitude somehow involved his problem with Julia.
Maybe when Janie came back to offer him more coffee, he could ask to speak with her in private, straighten this out and find out about Julia. If Janie came back to offer him more coffee. On her way back to the kitchen, she stopped at Lily Mae’s table. Whatever Lily Mae said to the young waitress touched off an argument that carried clearly to Sam’s ears.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lily Mae, your imagination is running away with you,” Janie said.
“Janie, hon, I’m not trying to be mean,” Lily Mae said. “I just wish you’d find out more about your mysterious Mr. Cade—”
“J.D. saved my life and Dale’s.” Janie banged her coffeepot down on the table and propped her fists on her hips. “I say that makes him a hero.”
The mention of J. D. Cade’s name piqued Sam’s interest and curiosity. He still hadn’t figured out what seemed so familiar about that guy. He surreptitiously watched the three women while sipping his coffee and demolishing the fat wedge of pie Janie had brought him.
Winona Cobbs reached out and grasped one of Janie’s hands, patting it with her other hand in a soothing motion. “Janie, dear, I’ve sensed so much negative energy around the Kincaid Ranch for months, I’m concerned about everyone connected with the place. And your Mr. Cade is not who anyone thinks he is—”
Janie shot Lily Mae a scathing glance. “That doesn’t mean he’s an ex-con trying to hide from his past.” She turned back to Winona. “I know one thing about him, Mrs. Cobbs. He would never hurt me or anyone else.”
“I hope not.” Winona patted Janie’s hand some more. “I really do, but I’ve…seen him…walking across the land with masks falling behind him one by one, but he tries desperately to hold on to them. Whoever he is, he doesn’t want to be exposed, Janie, and a man like that can be very dangerous—”
Janie pulled her hand out of Winona’s grasp, but she smiled as if to soften her rejection. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me, but honestly, I think it’s more likely that J.D. came here to forget a broken heart than a prison record.”
With that, Janie stalked back to the servers’ station and started a fresh pot of coffee. Winona and Lily Mae huddled together and spoke in voices Sam couldn’t hear beyond a steady murmur, but the worried expressions on both of their faces made him uneasy. While Winona occasionally seemed a little flaky, she had an impressive record of being right when it mattered. And Lily Mae might be a gossipy busybody, but he’d done enough business with her to know she was nobody’s fool.
The two women gathered up their purses, paid their checks and left. When Sam finished the last bite of pie, Janie did come back with the coffeepot. She seemed a little friendlier this time, and Sam wondered if her earlier display of temper had not been intended for him, after all. Maybe she’d just been reacting to something Lily Mae had already said.
Unfortunately, the bells on the front door jangled before he could ask about Julia, and a couple of cowboys came in. A delighted smile spread across Janie’s face. Without so much as a backward glance, she hurried up front to greet the newcomers. Sam bit back a disgruntled sigh and resigned himself to sipping another cup of coffee.
“Dale. J.D.,” she said, wiping her hands down the sides of her uniform skirt. “I wasn’t expecting to see you guys today. Shouldn’t you be in the hay fields?”
“Somebody busted up the danged old baler so bad we couldn’t fix it. We just left it at the repair shop.” Dale Carson slid onto a stool at the counter and leaned forward, bracing himself on both elbows. “Got any rhubarb pie left?”
She grabbed the brim of his Stetson and pulled it down over his forehead. “Anything for my baby brother.”
Dale’s face turned a vivid red. “Dammit, Janie, will you stop callin’ me that?”
Eyebrows raised at his near shout, Janie stepped back and laid one hand over her sternum. “Well excu-u-u-se me, Mr. Carson, sir.”
“I’ll have the rhubarb, too.” Cade took the stool beside Dale’s. “And coffee when you get a chance, and a plain grilled chicken patty for my dog, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Damned dog eats better’n you do,” Dale grumbled.
Cade gave Dale a considering look. “You got a problem with that?”
“I’ve got a problem with your stupid dog growlin’ at me all the time,” Dale said.
�
��You’re the only person he treats that way, pard. Maybe there’s a good reason for that.”
Sam thought he detected a nervous edge to Dale Carson’s laugh, but he didn’t know the young man well enough to be certain. Maybe Cade had saved Dale’s life, but the two men didn’t exactly sound like close friends.
“Yeah, right,” Dale said. “I’m a hardened criminal and your mangy, butt-ugly hound can tell.”
Cade shrugged. “Freeway’s a better judge of a man’s character than most people I know.”
“He’s a damn dog, J.D.”
Janie delivered their orders. “And that’s enough of that, Dale.” She leaned one hip against the counter near Cade’s spot, and gave the man a smile that should’ve melted the ice cream on top of his pie. “Besides, I think Freeway’s kind of cute.”
Her voice, her eyes, her posture all implied that the dog wasn’t the only one she found cute. Recognizing the tactic as one of Julia’s, Sam nearly laughed out loud. Cade glanced away and cleared his throat, then reached for the coffee cup Janie had just filled for him.
“Oh, ma-a-an, that’s good,” he said.
The way Cade drawled that word chilled Sam’s blood so fast he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think for a moment of utter shock.
Oh, God. Oh, Maheo. Oh, whoever or whatever Creator could hear him now…
He knew that voice. He’d heard it every morning for two whole summers. The voice itself sounded a little…huskier or something, but he’d heard it say exactly those words with exactly that intonation, and always after the first sip from a cup of coffee. And Sam had always been grateful to hear that voice, because it had belonged to the only man who stood between him and one hell of a lot of vicious abuse—Wayne Kincaid.
The other hands at the Kincaid Ranch had been a bunch of bigoted, rednecked jerks who loved nothing more than to give the Indian kid a hard time. But one man, who happened to be the boss’s son, had consistently stood up for Sam and even fired a couple of white hands who just didn’t get the message fast enough. Sam’s vision blurred and he grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself.