She looked like a white man’s version of an angel. And he’d never wanted to kiss an angel before.
Kiss? Was he totally insane? There were so many reasons why he couldn’t…shouldn’t let himself feel…
A loud grunt finally tore his attention away from the angel on her knees. The drugged-out wrestler, standing about ten feet from her, seemed to have quickly gotten over the shock of the bilagáana woman’s strange behavior. Or maybe the drugs in the teen’s system simply wouldn’t let him remain inert for any longer.
Whatever the reason, the wrestler roared with blind anger, fisted his hands over his head and took a few steps in her direction.
Ben’s body moved without his full consent. Before he realized what he’d done, he was standing between the crazed teen and the blonde.
Using surprise in the hopes of putting the kid off balance, Ben tried a distinctly non-Navajo move and rudely stared straight into the wrestler’s eyes. But instead of seeing the blank stare of a teenager strung out on drugs like he’d imagined, Ben caught a brief glimpse of something he hadn’t expected to see at all.
The evil ones. Right there in this young man’s eyes.
Ben was the one who’d been surprised. A second later, with momentum in his favor, the wrestler’s fists came down against Ben’s chest and knocked the wind out of him. Gasping for breath, Ben made a desperate move, trying to keep the kid from getting past him. He swung his arms out.
Catching the teenager by the shoulders, Ben took them both down. As he heard the sharp crack of his own forehead connecting with the hardwood floor, Ben was vaguely aware of being tangled up with a hellcat.
Before he blacked out, his thoughts went in a strange direction. Suddenly he was surrounded by warm sensations and secret sensual invitations—and all were emanating from soft blue-gray eyes.
“You should go home now, Dr. Sommer,” the Navajo nurse-practitioner urged as the two of them stepped out of Dr. Ben Wauneka’s semiprivate room at the Raven Wash Clinic. “You have done everything you can for him tonight.”
Tory sighed and shook her head. “You’re shorthanded, Russel. And with several of the beds already filled, it’ll be tough finding someone to check on Dr. Wauneka through the night.” She’d noticed the man’s name badge said he was Russel Beyal, M.S.N., A.P.R.N., A.R.N.P., the nurse-practitioner in charge.
“Very well,” Russel reluctantly agreed. “But there’s a cot set up in the break room if you need it.”
Taking the opportunity for a moment’s rest, Tory leaned back against the corridor wall and watched as Russel turned and headed down the hall toward the nurses’ station. She’d been thoroughly taken aback tonight by meeting this young male nurse, who claimed he’d been working at the clinic for several years.
She’d been working at Raven Wash Clinic herself for three months now and assumed she knew everyone involved with the place. But when she’d arrived an hour ago, right behind the ambulance bringing Ben Wauneka to the clinic for observation and treatment, Russel had greeted her at the door and told her he was in charge of clinic staff for the three-to-eleven shift.
At first sight, Russel had given her the creeps. Tory wasn’t too sure why. He was wearing a white doctor’s lab coat over jeans and his hair was cut short in a clean style like most of the staff. But something about his piercing black eyes bothered her. Sort of made her skin crawl.
Tory scrubbed a hand over her eyes. She hadn’t taken any night shifts at the clinic since coming to the reservation because of Dr. Hardeen’s caution about traveling alone after dark. And staying at home in bed for eight full hours of sleep had been a real luxury after her residency and the nutty twenty-hour shifts it had required.
Plus, there didn’t appear to be much need for a physician during the dark shifts at the clinic anyway. To her knowledge, Ben Wauneka was the first patient to be checked in during non-daylight hours in the entire time she’d been here.
The door to Dr. Wauneka’s room pushed open and April Henry joined her in the hall. The Navajo licensed practitioner was a familiar face for Tory. A woman in her mid-thirties, April often worked the day shift at the clinic. Tory knew her to be conscientious and a hardworking nurse.
Raven Wash Clinic had several foreign staff members. The Taiwanese surgeon, for instance, and the Mexican dentist, along with several Filipino nurses. But tonight two Navajo nurses were on duty at the same time. Tory knew Dr. Hardeen would rather have hired all Navajo staff, but there simply weren’t enough trained Navajo medical practitioners who were willing to come back to the reservation and work at such a small, remote clinic.
It seemed a shame. But on the other hand, it had given Tory the opportunity to pay off her loan.
“Dr. Wauneka is finally resting,” April informed her.
“That’s good. I’ll check on him in a minute.”
“You’re going to stay?”
“Someone has to wake him up periodically and check his vitals,” Tory said with a grim nod.
April’s face cracked with something that nearly resembled a smile. “He can be rather fierce for a patient who’s only half awake, can’t he? But I wouldn’t mind the job. He’s a cousin, but I’ve always thought he was one sexy dude.”
It took a huge effort for Tory to control the wry smile that was trying to break across her own face. “You have other patients who need you. I’ll stay.”
“Are you two dating?” April asked out of the blue.
Tory’s sharp laugh sounded more like a hiccup. “God, no. What would make you think so?”
“You came in with him tonight, for one thing,” April said with shrug. “I thought you didn’t go out alone at night. And for another, I’m sure he’s not been in the Raven Wash Clinic since you’ve come, but you seemed to know him.”
Tory thought back to the chaos at the gym. “I only know what that tribal police officer—uh…Officer Hunter Long, I think his name was—I only know what he told me. He said Dr. Wauneka is a physician whose practice is centered mostly in a clinic over near Toadlena. I don’t know anything else about the doctor, except that he may have saved my life.”
April raised her eyebrows at that and Tory noticed once again that the woman’s long, narrow face was truly beautiful. “I heard some of what happened at the gym. Didn’t know you were the crazy white…Oh, sorry. Anyway, Dr. Wauneka is born to the Big Medicine People for the Many Hogans Clan. That makes him one of my cousins, and ineligible to date.
“He is also a crystal gazer and listener,” April continued. “I have a friend who went to him for a diagnosis and was pleased with the results.”
“A crystal gazer. What’s that?”
“Crystal gazers are traditional Dine…oh, that means the Navajo people, you know? Anyway, crystal gazers are medicine men. A good one can see an illness without even laying hands on the sick patient. Though I know Ben Wauneka also uses X-rays and blood tests for his diagnoses.”
Tory didn’t say what she was thinking. She didn’t want to insult April or her beliefs. But it was absolutely incomprehensible that an educated nurse could believe such unscientific foolishness.
She decided to change the subject. “If you’re three-to-eleven shift, won’t you have to go home alone in the dark?”
“I’m pulling a double shift tonight so it doesn’t matter. But normally my boyfriend drops me off and picks me up if I’m working after dark.” April made a face. “Silly to be afraid of a natural thing like the night if you ask me. I grew up here. Darkness can be a good friend. It can heal the wounds that show up in the glaring light of day.”
“So you’re not afraid of Dr. Hardeen’s warnings about being out alone?”
April shook her head. “It isn’t just him. My boyfriend. My cousins. Most of the males in my family.” She shook her head again. “Such nonsense.”
“So things haven’t always been that way?”
“No,” April said with a frown. “A couple of years ago everybody started getting real skittery at dusk.”
; “What do you think happened to make them change?”
With an abrupt movement, April straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “I have no idea. And if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.” She turned and practically ran down the hallway, leaving Tory standing all alone.
Well, that was odd.
Ben sensed her presence even through the fog in his brain. He took a chance and pried open one eye.
Yep. It was the angel doctor, all right. Just the sight of her cornsilk blond hair pulled back in a bun on the top of her head made him feel like he might actually live.
She was checking his oxygen saturation levels and reading the blood pressure monitor. In a moment, she’d be propping open his eyelids to check the pupils and their reaction to the light.
He would save her the trouble. “Whaa…” Oh, man, was his throat dry. He tried to clear it and ended up having a coughing fit instead.
“Take it easy,” she told him in that angelic voice. “Let’s try a little water. That should help.”
The pretty blonde lifted his head and put a cup to his lips. A couple of swallows and his throat felt better. But then he realized how nauseated and dizzy he was.
Ben clamped down on the light-headed feelings. “What’s your name?” Well, that wasn’t what he’d been prepared to ask. But now that he had, he thought it was certainly a terrific question.
“I’m Dr. Victoria Sommer, Dr. Wauneka. And I owe you a big thanks.”
“Ben,” he squeaked. He swallowed and tried again. “The name’s Ben.”
“Okay. Then you can call me Tory.” She lifted the small flashlight and checked both his pupils.
“I assume I have a concussion and not a fractured skull. Is that your diagnosis?”
“That’s my best guess, yes,” she told him. “But I’m considering transferring you to the Indian Health Services facility in Gallup for an MRI just to be sure.”
“I don’t need it. Don’t bother. Uh…where am I?” He’d known it was a clinic, but where?
“We brought you to the closest place. The Raven Wash Clinic. The young man you saved was taken to Gallup after the paramedics stabilized him and braced his neck and legs. His left femur was fractured in several places.”
“What about the other wrestler? The one that took me down?”
The beautiful angel doctor shook her head sadly. “I…Sorry. I don’t think he survived.”
“What?” Ben hadn’t thought the young man was that overdosed. In fact, he’d figured the kid had been taking steroids and could be saved with some real effort at rehab.
“The tribal cop who came had to use a stun gun on him to keep him from killing all of us.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe…” She left the thought unfinished.
“Did they take the body to Farmington?” Ben knew it would be against the family’s wishes, but he wondered if there would have to be an autopsy. The closest place for that was the Farmington hospital.
“I’m not sure. But the policeman said he would stop in to talk to you about it tomorrow.”
He relaxed back against his pillows. Remembering through the haze of pain that the cop had been Hunter Long, Ben knew he would bring answers. Hunter was in the Brotherhood. Ben trusted him completely.
“Can you get a little rest now?” the angel asked in that easy, melodic tone of hers.
Ben closed his eyes. He had to hurry up and get well, get his body and mind back under control.
He had seen something terrible in that young man’s dark eyes tonight. But instead of concentrating on his Brotherhood obligations, all he could think about were soft gray-blue eyes and full, luscious lips twisted up in a wry smile.
Those kinds of thoughts could mean big trouble for a man dedicated to the Brotherhood. And more trouble was the very last thing he needed.
2
B en shifted his position in the hospital bed so he could look out the window. He saw the lavender-blue haze of dawn reaching over Beautiful Mountain.
Preparing to greet the daylight, Ben prayed—despite the fact his window view was west not east and the velvety navy nighttime was still clinging to the glass. Without seeing, he knew the Chuska mountain range would be next in line to receive the sun’s warming gifts. Past there, the last place to receive the day’s warmth would be the San Francisco Peaks, the westernmost of the four sacred mountains that made up the boundaries of Dinetah territory.
If he’d been at his home this morning, he would be up, blessing the rising sun with prayer and a pinch of pollen like all traditional Navajos. But just a glimpse of the familiar and beloved landmarks of his homeland gave him the strength he needed to get out of bed today. His head was splitting, but Hunter had sent a message through one of the nurses to say he would be coming by the clinic this morning.
Ben had no intention of lingering in bed when all he had was a slight concussion. He would talk to Hunter and then he would check himself out of here.
There was a war going on across his homeland, a secret war that had to be won. The only hope for the Dine to escape the terror of the evil ones was to be found in the hearts and minds of the warriors known as the Brotherhood.
Being a member of the Brotherhood, Ben understood his duty. He’d stumbled into a new threat last night—in the eyes of a teenage wrestler. And new strategies would have to be developed to head off whatever direction the evil Skinwalkers would be taking this time.
He eased an ankle to the side of the bed in preparation for lifting himself to a sitting position. Drawing in a deep breath, he threw both feet over the edge and rolled.
Tory was just reaching Ben’s hospital door when she heard a loud grunt and then a thud. Those sounds were not good news, she knew. Picking up speed, she bounded through the door and skidded to a halt on the other side.
“What in the name of heaven do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, as she raced over and knelt beside him on the floor.
He lifted his head and gazed at her with those bloodshot but remarkably sexy eyes. “Trying to get dressed so I can get out of here.”
Sitting back on her heels, she watched him lift himself up on his elbows. Tory frowned at his shaky efforts. “As your physician, I insist you remain in bed for further observation. At least until you can manage to keep the floor under your feet rather than have it knocking you in the chin.”
Ben put both his palms flat against the linoleum and tried to push himself into a sitting position. No luck. After several grunts and groans, his cheek was back resting on the cold, hard floor.
Feeling sorry for him, Tory tried to contain her smile as she slid her hands under his elbow and helped him to a sitting position.
“Okay,” he muttered. “But getting me back to bed will not be so easy. I outweigh you by…a lot.”
She grinned at him. “Perhaps so, big guy. But I have the moves. It’s all in the use of leverage, you know.” She fluttered her hands in front of his face, then cut the air with flat-handed karate chops.
Ben winced. “Can we just sit still a minute before we try anything that desperate?”
“Uh…for how long? It’s not terribly comfy down here, and you should be back in bed.”
“You can go back to work, Doctor. When my head stops spinning, I’ll send out smoke signals.”
Tory helped him to lean back against the gunmetal gray chest of drawers. “Sure. We can wait,” she said with a smile, as she pulled a pillow off the bed and shoved it behind his back. “But I’ll stick here, if you don’t mind. Let’s have a powwow. You supply the peace pipes and I’ll supply the blood pressure cuff.”
“Hmm,” he muttered. But he closed his eyes and let her take his pressure.
His coloring was too pale, his breathing a little too shallow. But his blood pressure readings were good.
“Why is it so important for you to leave?” she asked in one of her best bedside manner voices.
He opened one eye to glare at her.
Instead of noticing how red-veined and unfocused tha
t eye was, instead of making note of the puffy, black bruises under both his eyes that were about to become purple and green mountain ranges, instead of any of those more practical observations, when Tory looked at him all she could hear was her own heart beating like a kettledrum. Thunk. Thunk. Pound. Pound.
Good heavens. She was turning into a puddle of mush just by sitting this close to his heat, and by gazing into the intensely sexy depths of one dark brown eye.
“I have work to do,” he finally told her.
“Yes, well, I’m sure your patients will understand. Doctors are only human. They can get injured, too.”
“No,” he said with authority. “I must do my duty. I must. It’s a matter of life and death.”
The way he said it made her nervous. People had always called her a workaholic. Especially her ex-husband, Mike, who’d eventually used that as an excuse to dump her.
But the truth was, she felt strongly about her responsibility to heal the sick and injured. She’d taken oaths, made promises. It was what she did. Who she was.
Ever since she’d been a young girl, the middle child with four brothers and all of them known as the poor kids whose mother had to work three jobs just to make ends meet, Tory had always been the one who tended to the others. She’d known enough about butterfly bandages, antibiotic salve and plaster casts by the time she got to med school that she could’ve applied the stuff blindfolded.
She could feel Ben’s need to go back to work deep in her bone marrow rather than just understanding him on some intellectual plane.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she began, like a used-car salesman. “Twenty-four hours. Stay until tomorrow morning and I will go see your patients this afternoon. Today is my day off and if you—”
“Right after lunch,” he interrupted. “I must be out of here by noon at the latest.”
He’d deliberately ignored her offer, and his rudeness drove a tiny spit of anger down her spine. But then she remembered what April had said about him being a medicine man. Perhaps he knew his patients would refuse to see a white woman doctor.
Books by Linda Conrad Page 36