by Ann Yost
She looked at him. “Can you read everybody’s mind the way you read mine?”
He shrugged. “It’s just this place. Lots of memories.”
She nodded, not wanting to destroy their détente by introducing old hurts.
“I love it here,” she said, softly. “I feel a connection with nature. A link to the past. I mean the distant past. You know, history.”
Cam nodded as if he understood. Then he surprised her.
“What makes you happy these days, Lily?”
The friendliness in his tone warmed her heart and made her throat ache. She tried to answer honestly. “Sitting in my garden. Seeing folks from the rez get jobs or healthcare or a new double-wide. Watching new parents after a safe delivery.” She realized she was approaching dangerous ground so she paused.
“After you’ve delivered a child you mean.”
She nodded and opened her mouth to change the subject but she wasn’t fast enough.
“You haven’t wanted a child of your own, I gather.”
Molly had been asked the question before. She’d developed a stock answer but she found it difficult to lie to Cam. The irony of that struck her. She’d lied easily to him twice before—by omission.
“I’ve found fulfillment in my work. The women on the rez have no health insurance. They can’t afford doctors and hospitals. I’m all they have.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
She gave him a quick, vague answer.
“Some day, maybe.”
He let it go. Probably he didn’t really care.
They spoke about his years of college and graduate school, his stint in London and his job at the bank in Boston. He’d traveled extensively at the time. Molly was glad. He’d always wanted to travel.
“I left the fast lane when I returned to Eden.”
“Do you miss it?”
His clear blue gaze clouded.
“Daisy needed more than an absentee dad. I came back to Eden to provide her with a family.”
Molly had always known he’d make a great father. It didn’t surprise her that he’d sacrificed the corporate ladder for his small daughter. She knew he would have sacrificed his future for her child if he’d known. A knife twisted inside her. Cam Outlaw was a good man. He’d been a good man at eighteen. He deserved the honesty he wasn’t getting from her.
“Daisy likes you,” Cam said.
Molly’s heart jerked.
“I like her, too. She’s a beautiful child.”
“She looks like her mother.”
Molly felt certain the hard expression on his face reflected his grief. She touched the back of his hand. To her surprise he didn’t jerk away. He turned her hand over and threaded his fingers through hers.
“Sharon will make a good stepmother,” she said, wanting to comfort him.
She felt the muscles tighten in Cam’s hand.
“I’m not getting married again just to get Daisy a stepmother.”
“I know.” Sharon Johnson was a good and loyal woman. The redhead was beautiful, too. He was marrying her because he wanted to build a life with her.
Because he trusted her.
Because he loved her.
And Molly knew that, perhaps even more than Elise, Sharon deserved him.
His face darkened and he scowled. At the same time Molly noticed the sky had clouded over. Thunderheads gathered on the distant horizon. There would be a storm tonight.
“We’d better get back,” she said, as she rose to collect the picnic things. His fierce grip on her wrist shocked her but not as much as the raw intensity in his voice.
“Why did you marry Grey Wolf?”
Molly’s heart slammed against her ribs like a tiger desperate to break out of a cage. She wondered if the frantic organ would batter itself until it burst.
She knew she should have been prepared for it.
She wasn’t.
She wondered why he wanted to know? Did he still care about her? Was this an effort to find some kind of closure? Or was it simply a function of being back in the spinney—together.
Molly realized she’d been silent too long. She blurted out a random answer, which turned out to be partly the truth. Of course, Cam already knew it.
“I needed to belong to the tribe.”
He glared at her. “You belonged to the tribe. Muriel and James had already adopted you.”
She read the lack of comprehension behind his words. And the hurt.
“I know. They did share their lives and their heritage and their name, but it was new. I didn’t feel secure. Not then.”
“And now?”
She nodded. “Now I belong,” she said. “I’ve earned my way into the tribe. I have a home.”
His voice came out in a low growl. “You could have had a home with me.”
The words sliced her in two. Over the years she’d told herself she’d done the right thing for Cam. She’d told herself over and over it couldn’t have worked. They were too young. They were from different worlds. It would have held him back. She’d come to believe she’d married Daniel for Cam’s sake. His words made her face her own insecurity, her cowardice. She needed approval. She couldn’t have handled his father’s disapproval. She couldn’t have left the safety of Muriel and James. She couldn’t have disappointed the generous couple that had taken her in.
And she would have disappointed them and humiliated them with an unwed pregnancy.
She could explain none of it so she remained silent but she felt his anger in the pressure of his fingers on her wrist.
”You aren’t married anymore.”
“No.”
“How come? Did you betray him, too?”
Her eyelids flickered. She hadn’t betrayed Daniel but she’d accepted his protection and, for a long while, he hadn’t been free to find a woman of his own.
“No.”
“So why the divorce?”
“It was the right thing to do.”
“The right thing?” He spat the words. “What do you know about the right thing, Molly Whitecloud?”
”Cam.” She had to stop him. She couldn’t afford to get embroiled in an emotional fight that might end with her giving up precious secrets.
“It would never have worked for us. We were too young.”
The blue eyes became azure slits. “How do you know? You didn’t try.”
She shrugged her shoulders and spread her hands to the sides, palms up.
If she told him about the baby they’d lost he might forgive her but it would break his heart. And, anyway, she couldn’t afford to get onto the subject of babies. Not with Cam.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
They walked back to the resort in silence.
There was nothing left to say.
****
Molly’s heartbeat accelerated later that afternoon as she hurried through the hallways of the big hotel in defiance of Cam’s orders. He’d told her to stick to the honeymoon suite while he drove into Eden but she had no intention of doing that. This was a perfect opportunity for her to do a little sleuthing on her own. She’d been “hired” as Cam’s escort for another twenty-four hours so if she ran into Winston or Fat Eddie she’d have an excuse for not working. She wouldn’t, however, have an excuse for roaming around the spa.
As it was, the place was a wasteland. She ran into nobody until she reached the laundry room in the basement where she found Lynn Brown Bear, a middle-aged Penobscot whose teen-age children and invalid husband depended on her paycheck. Lynn was loading white sheets into a dryer while piles of dirty linens sat on a nearby table. She looked up when Molly came in. Long gray hair escaped from what Molly knew had started out that day as a neat braid. Lynn’s round face shone with sweat.
“Molly,” she said. “What are you doing here? Is someone having a baby?”
“No. I’m moonlighting. I want to make some renovations to my cottage so I’ve taken a part-time job here. As a masseuse.”
Lynn eyed
her doubtfully. “Seems like you’re busy enough.”
Molly’s face burned and she knew it wasn’t from the heat of the steamy room. She didn’t like lying to anyone, much less someone from the rez. She abandoned the pretense.
“You’re right. I’m here to get some information. There’s a rumor that some of the employees have been taken advantage of by guests and I want to find out whether it’s true.”
Lynn’s brown eyes grew sad. “You’re talking about Lenaya Dove, right?”
Molly nodded, as always, impressed with the reservation grapevine. “What can you tell me, Lynn? Are the girls being used as escorts?”
The laundress looked troubled. “I need this job, Molly.”
“I’ll protect your confidentiality.”
“It’s not just that. I don’t want to start a scandal. I just can’t afford to have the resort shut down.”
Molly felt a surge of anger. Not at Lynn Brown Bear but at those who were treating the casino and resort as some sort of money-making playground. This venture was supposed to have provided a better future for the residents of Blackbird Reservation. She knew, too, that Lynn was right. An investigation into illegal activity would result in a scandal and a shutdown and more unemployment for the Indians.
Molly made a mental note to check on Lynn’s family no matter what happened to the casino. She’d make sure they had food and clothing for the coming winter.
“I understand,” she told the older woman, “but Lenaya’s only sixteen.”
Lynn brushed a strand of hair off her face and sighed. Molly saw the conflict in her eyes and she breathed a sigh of relief as loyalty to the tribe trumped personal concerns.
“Every afternoon there are parties.”
“Parties?”
The older woman nodded. “Mr. Winston takes the girls to his rooms.”
Adrenalin shot through Molly’s veins. Private parties. Orgies? Muriel’s information had been good.
“Where is Mr. Winston’s suite, Lynn?”
“On the very top floor. The ninth.” She looked immeasurably sad. “He likes the young girls the best, Molly. But there won’t be any up there now. They come to work after school and on weekends.”
Anger knotted inside Molly and something else. Anticipation. She couldn’t wait to nail this jerk.
The laundress pointed out a service elevator that made Molly smile. If she and Cam had known about the service elevator last night her feet might not hurt so much today. As it was, aching feet were a small price to pay for rescuing the teenagers and other women who worked here. She thanked Lynn and punched the button for the ninth floor.
When she stepped off the elevator she found there was only one suite. Molly stared at the gold lion’s dolphin that served as a knocker. She felt like Dorothy seeking entrance to the Emerald City.
The middle-aged man who responded to her knock was tall and beefy. A pair of Bermuda-length swim trunks presented his pale pink stomach like a cone holding a giant scoop of strawberry ice cream. A former jock, Molly thought, one who’d exchanged the locker room for a recliner and ESPN.
A tall, willowy brunette slid a slim hand through his thick arm and stared at Molly. Molly stared back at the sagama’s wife.
“Is someone having a baby?”
“No. I’m here because,” it occurred to Molly midway into the sentence that she hadn’t figured out a cover story. She decided to go on the offensive.
“What are you doing here?” And what were you doing in Big Eddie’s office last night?
“I’m Dwight Winston’s secretary,” Sandra said. “I work here.”
“I work here, too,” Molly suddenly remembered. “I’m the new part-time masseuse.”
“I feel my body tightening up as we speak,” Mr. Ice Cream Cone said. He winked at Molly. “How ‘bout a little rubdown?”
Sandra’s brow furrowed and her voice was anything but gracious.
“I guess you can come in.”
Molly looked past the other woman to an oversized hot tub filled with frolicking guests, most of them nude.
She gulped. What had she gotten herself into?
****
Cam made a quick trip to Eden. He checked on his daughter then stopped by his office where he made a call to Boston. He’d met Sam Salinger, a defense attorney, through Elise’s father. Salinger had made an extensive study of breaking and entering techniques in the course of defending clients and he told Cam what he knew about combination locks. Even better, he faxed him a drill-point diagram of a typical lock. Sam told him the drill-hole would most likely be close to the axis of the dial but possibly in the sides or back of the safe.
“There are only two real problems with this kind of entry,” Sam explained. “Firstly, you have to have a drill.” He went on to explain where Cam could get the tool on short notice.
“Okay,” Cam said, jotting down notes. “What’s the other drawback?”
“You could run into hard plate steel or composite hard plate beneath the surface which would shatter the cutting tips of a drill bit. In that case you’d need a tungsten-carbide drill bit and even then the process can be time-consuming.”
Sam paused as Cam muttered a curse.
“Or there could be a glass re-locker. It would be mounted between the safe door and the combination lock. It has wires that lead to randomly located, spring-loaded bolts, which will be released upon contact with the drill. One other possibility is a thermal re-locker that could be used in conjunction with a glass-based re-locker. It’s usually a fusible link that is part of the relocker cabling. It would rebuff the efforts of your drill.”
Cam gritted his teeth. “In other words the drill-hole approach will only work on simple, old-fashioned combination locks.”
“Basically.”
Cam thought about the operation at the casino. He figured his odds were about fifty-fifty. DiMarco and the others had put money into the furnishings and décor but, he suspected, they’d have skimped on the stuff that didn’t show. Maybe.
“Thanks,” he said. And because he knew Sam was a man with a connoisseur’s interest in locks he added, “I’ll let you know what happens.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
Cam considered making a quick stop at The Garden of Eden. He knew Sharon wouldn’t condemn him for the evening—and night—he’d spent with Molly. It was just business. A charade. But he felt guilty. Not about the instinctive response of his body on the dance-floor and in Big Eddie’s office but about the way he’d stood by the bed and watched her sleep. He didn’t want to feel anything for Molly but he did and, while he’d never again trust her, he’d begun to question whether he could build a life with another woman until those feelings were resolved.
Sharon deserved someone heart-whole.
Cam gripped the steering wheel of the Mercedes and drove past the inn without stopping. There would be time enough to examine his relationship with the beautiful redhead when this godforsaken assignment was over and Molly Whitecloud was back in the past where she belonged.
He wondered what she was up to now. He wondered if there was any chance she’d obeyed his order to stay in the honeymoon suite.
He stepped on the gas.
When he returned to the empty Sugar Cube room in mid-afternoon he found a Post-It note on the white marble coffee table.
“Gone fishing. See you for dinner.”
Cold fingers gripped his heart. The gray skies of morning had finally produced a steady downpour. Cam thrust his fingers through his thick hair as he scowled at nobody in particular. The damn woman had decided to snoop on her own.
Chapter Five
Daniel Grey Wolf worked slowly, methodically unpacking and arranging his few belongings in the studio apartment. He thought about Molly up at the resort. She hadn’t called yet but he wasn’t worried. He knew Cameron Outlaw would protect her. He shook his head. She was probably ready to turn Daniel into bone meal. She wouldn’t thank him for calling in that particular cavalry. But Daniel had thought
long and hard about Molly and he’d concluded that she would never find happiness until she’d faced her demons.
And that meant Cam.
Daniel’s thoughts switched to his own future. He’d known for some time he was finished with Washington, D.C. and the endless and hopeless task of monitoring the growing number of Indian casinos. He was ready to return to Maine. He was ready to recapture his soul. He planned to start by writing about what he knew, the Abenaki tribes that had originated in New England and Canada. He wanted to bring an understanding both to his own people and to everyone else that the Native Americans were more than a conquered nation.
Daniel had made another important decision, too. He wouldn’t move back to the rez. Molly had occupied his cottage for twelve years and it was now her home. Besides, he wanted something different. He was restless, unsettled and not in harmony. He did not want to go backwards and he did not want to stay where he was. There was something out there waiting for him and he knew he couldn’t find it on the rez.
This outbuilding, originally a music studio when the Garden of Eden, then a private home, had been built a hundred years earlier, was the perfect place for solitude and reflection.
But Daniel had found something even more valuable than peace; he’d found a friend.
Sharon Johnson, tall, beautiful and oddly shy, had made him welcome here. More than that, she’d made him feel valued, not fin his customary role of protector, but for himself.
Daniel ran his long fingers along the worn surface of the sturdy oak desk that dominated the studio’s main room. A sense of well-being descended on him like a warm cloak. He felt sure this move had been the right one in spite of a most surprising complication.
At the age of forty-eight Daniel Grey Wolf had fallen in love for the first time in his life. It was a love without expectation. Sharon was nearly engaged to Cameron Outlaw and, besides, she and Daniel were just friends, the same way Molly and he had been just friends. On paper, the two relationships were the same but they were different in his heart. He loved Molly as one loved a favorite sister or a niece. He loved Sharon as a man loved a woman. His love would remain unspoken. Even if Sharon’s heart had been free, Daniel was not the right man for her. But she was the right woman for him and, for the most part, he was thankful to have found her.