The two hugged for a long time. Lindsay’s intuition told her that Rainhorse’s declaration that he’d never stopped loving Neha was not a one-way street. She looked every bit in love as he. Their embrace was warm, electric even. After what seemed to be an eternity, Neha released him but stepped back only far enough to look at his face. Her tiny hands touched his cheeks. Lindsay could see her talking softly to him, and then he to her. Neha was crying, she could tell—tears of joy, of relief, of love. Rainhorse touched her cheek, undoubtedly wiping her tears away.
Then they kissed. It was not a long kiss, but Lindsay could almost feel the heat from it. Lindsay sighed, wondering if anyone would ever feel that kind of passion for her. Perhaps more importantly, would she ever feel that way about anyone?
She let out a breath, suddenly feeling a rush of . . . was it envy . . . or was it jealousy? At that given moment, Lindsay realized she may not be the center of the universe to him much longer. She thought seeing Rainhorse with someone would fill her heart with joy, but she realized Neha’s presence filled her with conflicting emotions.
She could now see Rainhorse talking to her again. He looked over at the truck as he spoke. Neha looked toward the truck as well. She wondered how he was explaining her and Ska to Neha.
After another moment of conversation, Neha turned to go back inside and Rainhorse walked back to the truck. Lindsay slid into the driver’s side and rolled down the window as he approached.
“Wake up Ska, and come inside,” he said. “I’ll get our things.”
Inside the small log cabin, Lindsay noticed the furniture was simple, made of all-natural woods, home-made, tasteful, but far from extravagant. The décor was heavily Native American, as one might expect, and there were pictures of Neha and a beautiful teenage girl all about the cabin.
Ska found a spot on the couch and slumped onto it. She was fidgety, shaking a little, appearing out of sorts. The meth comedown, Lindsay thought. That must be it.
She turned back to the photographs, picking up one. She showed it to Rainhorse.
“This must be Lona,” Lindsay said.
“It is,” he said. “I’ve never met her, but Neha has sent me pictures. She is beautiful, isn’t she?”
“She is,” Lindsay replied. She touched a photo of Neha, “Her mother is, too.”
“She has not changed much,” Rainhorse said. “She is so beautiful.”
Lindsay smiled, “Where did she go?”
“She went to get blankets and pillows,” Rainhorse said. “Her space is very limited. You and Ska will share Lona’s room. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Jackson, look at Ska,” Lindsay said. “She is not looking so well.”
“She is coming down from the meth,” Neha said, walking into the room. Up close, Lindsay saw that Rainhorse was not exaggerating about the Sioux woman’s beauty. She had to be very near his age but looked fifteen years younger. Her complexion was dark. Her skin was smooth, showing only a hint of age lines around her eyes and forehead. She wore no makeup but she didn’t need to. Her simple, colorful Native American robe was tied to her tiny waist and accentuated her ample, natural bosom and tiny rear. She was truly beautiful.
“I will call Ellie in the morning,” Rainhorse said.
“You won’t have to,” Neha responded. “She’s already coming. She’ll be here at sunrise.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I called her and told her you’d be here tonight and she is coming to see you. I think she may have some information that might help us. I’ll text her and tell her what is going on with Ska. She can bring medications with her, perhaps, to help with the withdrawal. In the meantime, I’ll make her some herbal tea—it will help her sleep tonight.”
“Thank you for helping her,” Lindsay said, “and thank you for providing us a safe place to sleep.”
Neha looked at Lindsay and smiled, “I should be thanking you for saving Rainy’s life,” she said. “I couldn’t bear to lose Lona and Rainy both in the same week.”
Lindsay smiled. It was obvious that Rainhorse had told Neha the part about her saving his life, but conveniently left out the part about her ruining his chance to capture Apollo. She was not about to contradict him.
“It was my pleasure,” Lindsay said. “Old ‘Rainy’ means a lot to me, too.”
She stole a glance at Rainhorse when she repeated the nickname ‘Rainy.’ He offered a smile of mild embarrassment.
Neha made tea and over the next little while, the four of them sat in her tiny living room, sharing the day’s events with her. Rainhorse was careful to nuance the story so that Lindsay did not come across as the young white girl who wrecked the plan.
“I’m so sorry we dragged you into this, Ska,” Lindsay said.
“No one forced me to say anything,” Ska replied. “Besides, I can’t go on the way I was going.”
“Did you want to call your boyfriend?” Neha asked.
“No,” she said.
“Maybe he can help find a place for you to stay that’s safe,” Lindsay said.
“No,” Ska insisted. “He doesn’t care about me. He only used me to have sex with his dealers to trade for crank. He doesn’t really care about me. What kind of man pimps his girlfriend for drugs? I’m done with that.”
“Good for you, girl. Let’s take this one day at a time,” Lindsay said. “The first step is to get you help.”
Ska nodded, forcing a small smile.
“So, Rainy,” Neha began, “Ellie tells me you have been a killer-for-hire? A paid assassin?”
Rainhorse had been sipping tea but nearly spilled it when Neha announced she knew of his former occupation.
“Ellie told you that?” Rainhorse asked. “She was not supposed to have discussed this.”
“At least it wasn’t me,” Lindsay said.
“Don’t blame Ellie,” Neha insisted. “I pushed her into it. I wanted to know why she believed you could find Lona.”
“Uh . . . well, this is, or was . . . technically true . . . at one time,” Rainhorse stammered, “but I am retired . . . two years now.”
“He only killed people who truly deserved it,” Lindsay added.
Ska started giggling, “I knew there was something different about you,” she said. “You should have seen the way he dropped those losers in the diner—bam, bam, bam. Right in the head. A hired assassin. Damn, that’s cool.”
Neha ignored Ska and raised her eyes, gawking at Lindsay, “You . . . knew . . . about this . . . that Rainy was a killer-for-hire?”
“Oh yeah,” Lindsay said, as matter-of-factly. “That’s how we met. He kidnapped me.”
“He kidnapped you?” Neha gasped, looking at Rainhorse incredulously. His face began to turn a little pale.
“Yep,” Lindsay replied. “Slipped a bag over my head, tied me up and tossed me in a van.”
Neha began to breathe rapidly in and out, continuing to gasp.
“I know you are trying to be helpful, Lindsay,” Rainhorse said, “but trust me when I tell you . . . you are not.”
“Oh, he didn’t go through with it,” Lindsay rushed to add. “In fact, he killed his partner when the guy tried to rape me.”
“Killed. Raped,” Neha repeated, breathing heavier than ever.
“No, no, no. You don’t understand. No one actually raped me,” Lindsay said. “Jackson saved me from the guy who ordered my kidnapping and drove me all the way home from Chicago. We got to know each other really well on the trip. We stole a couple of cars together and even knocked over a pharmacy. That was before the shootout.”
“Lindsay, please . . . quit talking,” Rainhorse said. “Neha, I know this is a lot to take in, but you know me. You know my character—the kind of man I am. That hasn’t changed.” He flashed a stern look at Lindsay. “All evidence to the contrary,” he continued.
“Really, Neha,” Lindsay said, ignoring Rainhorse’s plea to quit talking. “Rainy is a good man. He’ll find Lona and return her safely to you. If anyone can do it
, he can.”
“Ok,” Neha said. “As you said, it’s a lot to take in. We’ll discuss this later . . . I guess. I’ve been listening to the police band radio the whole night, since I got off the phone with you earlier,” Neha said. “It sounds like the tribal police believes you slipped through their fingers. They are notifying the Sheridan County Sheriff’s Department, asking for their cooperation to find you.”
“What does that mean?” Lindsay asked.
“It means they believe you have left the res,” Ska answered.
“That’s a good thing, right?” Lindsay asked.
Rainhorse nodded, “It is a very good thing, but it’s temporary. Sooner or later, they will figure out we are someplace on the res, but we have a little time.”
“The Tribal Police is not your biggest concern, anyway,” Neha added. “Tony Apollo and Henry Rattling Thunder are the ones you must worry about. They will be looking for you on and off the res.”
“With any luck, I will find them first,” Rainhorse said.
“Don’t kill Apollo,” Neha said. “He’s our only link to Lona.”
“I know,” he replied. “I will make him tell me where she is, and I will bring her back to you.”
“How did she get taken?” Lindsay asked. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
“We don’t know with absolute certainty,” Neha said. “Last Saturday, she went with two of her friends to the Wolf Point Mall. They were hanging out at a soda shop and ended up separated. They tried calling her cell phone but there was no answer. They searched every store for her but didn’t notify mall security for almost an hour. One of the guards found her cell phone in a trash receptacle. She was gone.”
“Jesus, and in broad daylight?” Lindsay gasped. “What about security cameras?”
“This is the res,” Neha said, “not some fancy mall in Chicago. There are few cameras, and the people who took her knew right where they were.”
“Neha, I’m so sorry,” Lindsay said.
“It happens so often here on the res, people are almost numb to the news, unless it directly affects them,” Neha said. “That’s why she was only allowed to go places in groups. They are supposed to watch out for each other. Lona got complacent—wandered away.”
“If it happened Saturday, they have probably not moved her off the res yet,” Rainhorse said. “We have time.”
“Don’t worry, Neha. Jackson . . . I mean, Rainy, will find her,” Lindsay said.
She looked at Rainhorse and smiled, “I believe he will.”
She looked at the big man, “Jackson?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“Lindsay . . . Why does she call you Jackson?”
He shrugged, “Long story.”
Lindsay noted Ska was almost asleep in her chair. The tea had worked—it was working on Lindsay, too.
“If it’s ok with you guys, I think I’ll help Ska to bed and then turn in myself,” Lindsay said.
“Rainy told me that all your bags are back in Plentywood,” Neha said. “I have some spare nightclothes for you and Ska, if you like.”
“That’s very nice of you, yes,” Lindsay said. “Also, if you wouldn’t mind, may I borrow your washer and dryer? I don’t have any other clothes with me.”
“You certainly may,” Neha replied. “Lona’s clothes are about your size as well. You are welcome to pick through and wear anything you want.”
“I wouldn’t feel right,” Lindsay said.
“No, really,” Neha insisted. “She would not mind a bit.”
“Well, thank you. Good night.”
Neha nodded, “We’ll keep the noise down. Rainy and I still have some catching up to do. I’d like some details of his . . . occupational activities over the last few years.”
Lindsay nodded, offering a shrug and a look of embarrassment in Rainhorse’s direction. He glared at her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
______________________
Lindsay woke about five-thirty in the morning. The house felt silent—no one had stirred yet. She checked on Ska, who was sleeping soundly. She stood and opened the door quietly, remembering that she’d have to walk across the living room to the bathroom. She tiptoed. The hard wood floor was cold—it sent a chill up her legs as she walked. As she passed Neha’s room, she heard the police band radio playing faintly. She probably had it on all night, listening for any scrap of news.
Rainhorse appeared to be sleeping soundly on the couch. Lindsay half expected that he’d find his way into Neha’s bed, but remembered the context of the situation. Neha’s daughter had been kidnapped. Rainhorse had always been the consummate gentleman. Even if Neha had wanted to, he would not have allowed himself to have sex with her, not yet, not while she was in such a vulnerable state.
She made her way to the bathroom, closed the door, and sat on the toilet. As she sat, she checked her phone for texts for the first time. Her mother had texted her three times, all with messages asking if she had arrived in California safely.
Good, she thought. Her mother suspected nothing . . . yet. She texted back, ‘All good. Safe and sound. I have a big day ahead. Talk to you soon. Love you.’
She flushed the toilet and began to wash her hands. She smelled a faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Someone was up. When she opened the door, she saw Rainhorse, standing, bare-chested, pulling up his jeans.
“Ellie is pulling up the driveway,” he said. “Neha has coffee going.”
“How did it go last night after I went to bed?” she whispered.
“She hasn’t kick me to the curb . . . yet,” he said. “At some point, you and I are going to have to talk about how to describe the first time we met.”
“I know. It wasn’t my finest hour. I’ll fix it later today when it’s just me and her, ok?”
“No, please. Just leave it be. Promise me.”
“Ok, ok! I’ll put on some clothes and give Ellie and Ska the bedroom,” Lindsay said, remembering Neha’s offer to let her wear some of Lona’s clothes. In the bedroom, Lindsay thumbed through some of Lona’s clothes. They were all Native American fashion. The young teenager actually had quite beautiful taste, she thought. Lona’s shirts were a little larger than she normally wore, but the pants were perfect.
She picked a colorful top and slipped it on. She also found the most adorable overalls, embroidered in Native American-styled patches in the front and on the sides. She slipped them on and checked herself out in the full-length mirror fixed to the back of the bedroom door. She loved what she saw.
She heard Rainhorse speaking to a woman out in the living room. Then there was a knock on the bedroom door. Lindsay opened the door and saw Ellie Limberhand for the first time.
“So, you are the young woman Rainhorse thought was worth dying for,” she said.
“Lindsay Vanderbilt,” came the reply. She extended her hand. Ellie shook it.
Ellie was tall and a little on the hefty side. She was dressed in a plain, oversized red top and jeans. She was large breasted and wide around the shoulder. Her hips and legs were thin, presenting a top-heavy contrast in stature. Her hair was black, but graying, short, parted down the middle. Her face was round, with dark freckles dotting her cheeks and nose.
“Where is our patient?” Ellie asked.
“She’s inside the bedroom.”
“I don’t know much, other than she is hooked on meth,” Ellie said. “What can you tell me about her?”
“Not much,” Lindsay said. “Her name is Ska Red Feather. I just met her yesterday. She is probably older than me but not by much. She is very thin and gaunt. She was really tired and having severe headaches as we drove here. I know she lives with her boyfriend, who is also a meth abuser.”
“Do you know if she shoots it or smokes it?” Ellie asked.
“Shoots it. There are track marks all over her arms,” Lindsay said. “Is there a difference between smoking and injecting?”
Ellie nodded, "Smoking meth is more addictive but shooting is more dangerou
s in many ways. Injecting drugs comes with its own unique risks. Many, perhaps most meth users end up reusing and sharing needles. Needle sharing puts users at a high risk for HIV and hepatitis C. Reuse of needles tends to cause infections and collapsed veins. The meth particles in the solution can cause blockages in and near the heart, brain, and liver, causing serious health problems. The substance can also cause infection of the heart tissue, which is a very dangerous condition.”
“Oh dear, that sounds awful,” Lindsay said.
“It is not a forgiving drug,” Ellie replied.
“Who’s there, Lindsay,” Ska asked, sitting up on her elbows. “I hear people out there.”
“I’m Ellie,” she replied, walking through the door. Lindsay followed her inside.
“Ellie is here to help you,” Lindsay said.
“I need some crank,” Ska pleaded. “That’s how she can help me.”
Ellie smiled at Lindsay, directing her out of the room with a quick nod toward the door.
Lindsay nodded and turned to Ska, “I’ll be out front if you need me.”
“Ok,” Ska replied.
Lindsay walked out of the bedroom to find an empty living room, “We’re in here,” Neha said, calling from the kitchen. “You want coffee?”
“Yes, please,” Lindsay said. Rainhorse was sitting at the kitchen table. Neha was at the counter of the small kitchen, pouring coffee.
Neha stopped and took in a breath when she saw Lindsay enter the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?” Lindsay asked.
Neha exhaled deeply and shook her head, fighting off tears, “Nothing. It’s just seeing you . . . in Lona’s outfit. . . it is her favorite.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lindsay said. “I thought you said it was ok. I can change . . .”
Brotherhood Protectors: RAINHORSE (Kindle Worlds) Page 10