Eye of the Storm (7 page)

Katti
watched him steadily for a moment,
then
gave him an almost challenging look. "Zan and I've been talking about Michael Stormwalker. You know him pretty well don't you?"

Billy gave her a jaundiced look. "Yeah, I know him."

"I mean, didn't you hang out with him when you were kids?"

"How would you know that? You were just a baby."

"I've heard stories."

"Then you also must've heard we stopped 'hanging out' in middle school."

"I was just telling Zan that's he's something of a hero around here, but you don't like him much do you?"

"He's something all right, but hero
ain't
it."

Eager to hear an opinion that reinforced her own negative view of the major, Zan leaned forward. "Why do you say that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He stabbed his spoon into a bowl of chili. "The guy's a traitor.
An officer and a traitor.
While the rest of us grunts just did our duty the best way we knew how, he was
lookin
' to make a buck by selling out to the enemy.
Nothin
' heroic about that.
Not in my book."

"Anything else?"

Suddenly wary,
Winter
watched Zan through narrowed eyes. "Why should there be anything else?"

Zan shrugged. "I don't know. Instinct, I guess."

"
You been
talking to that
sonofabitch
Stormwalker? He set you on my trail?"

"I had no idea you'd be here. If you remember, we didn't invite you over. You invited yourself."

"Yeah, well, I just uninvited myself." He pushed away from the table and carried his lunch to the counter.

Katti
stared at Billy's back,
then
glanced at Zan. "He's almost irrational when it comes to Stormwalker."

"Why?"

"The way I heard the story, it started when they were kids. Billy was the leader of the boys until Stormwalker challenged him and beat him. The boys began to look to him instead of Billy, who's hated him ever since."

"Competition between two kids doesn't seem strong enough motivation for a lifelong hatred, does it?" Zan asked. "I'm curious, though. If you knew all that, why did you set him up?"

"I wanted to see his reaction."
Katti
shrugged. "I know that sounds terrible, but I just want him to get over his anger against the man and get on with his life. The way things stand, he's so full of bitterness, there's no room for anything else."

Katti's
dark eyes held an expression of sadness but Zan resisted the temptation to delve. They paid the check and walked back to the sheriff's office.

They said goodbye at the door. "Next
time
you're in town let me know,"
Katti
said. "We can have lunch again, if you want." She gave Zan another shy look as if not quite sure how she would receive the invitation.

"I'd like that. I don't have any friends out here."

Katti
touched her arm lightly. "You do, now." She smiled and went back to work. Zan went to the car and started back to the reservation.

She enjoyed the heat and the rush of dry wind around the open cab of the MG. The afternoon sun heated the air, creating shimmering waves that straddled the asphalt roadway like a shiny inland sea. For such days was the low-slung convertible made.

She remembered Deputy Winter's warning and looked at the speedometer. The flat, open countryside through which the highway ran had deceived her into thinking she drove slower than she actually did. She eased up on the gas pedal. In the distance, a man walked along the side of the road. She steered away from the shoulder and hugged the broken white line dividing the east and westbound lanes.

As she approached him, she recognized the unusual height, the broad shoulders straining at the confines of a sweat-dampened work shirt, the strong, muscular back that tapered to a narrow waist and the powerful legs encased in worn blue jeans. With a grin, she admired the way his firm buttocks filled those jeans, rolling with masculine grace as he took each long step. When her imagination led her to wonder how they would feel beneath her hands she laughed aloud. She'd begun this mission hating the man, but somehow, he'd brought her back to life.

She pulled in a yard ahead of Stormwalker and waited for him to come abreast of her car. "Want a lift?" she asked.

"Thanks." He spoke without any enthusiasm.

"Would you rather walk?"

"Not now that you stopped."

He folded his long frame into the seat beside her, giving the vehicle the dimensions of a kiddie car. For the first time, she realized the MG just might be inadequate.

"What are you doing here?"

"Walking."

"Coming from town?"

"Yup."

"Please spare me that laconic Indian
unkcé
, Stormwalker." She glanced at him long enough to see a tiny smile turn up one corner of his mouth.

"Where'd you learn that nasty word?"

"Mac.
He said I should use it any time I thought you were snowing me. What were you doing in town?"

"Had to see Kenny Becker."

"You could have ridden with me. Next time ask."

"I prefer to handle things on my own."

"Too macho to ask for help?"

"Being on my own for a change seemed like too good an idea."
He shifted his body to find a fraction more leg room and to consider for a moment that her remark had been a little too close to the truth for his comfort. "I'm trying to enjoy my freedom while I've still got it."

"Well, I can certainly understand that, but hitching a ride doesn't require a major commitment."

Stormwalker watched as she stared at the road ahead. The tip of her tongue flicked across her bottom lip, leaving a glistening film that enhanced her mouth's soft fullness. He felt something stir deep within him as he considered how her mouth would feel beneath his. His gaze wandered over her face.

She wore no makeup, and didn't appear to need any. The sun had left her skin with a gentle tan; her cheeks glowed with good health. She'd tied her hair back from her face with a brightly colored scarf, exposing her graceful neck. Her hands looked strong and capable on the wheel, her arms just muscular enough to evoke an image of power without detracting from her femininity.

She raised a hand to her cheek. "Is my face dirty?"

The gesture allowed him to see long, slender fingers tapering to oval nails unadorned by polish. Womanly without frills, he thought.

He shook his head. "No. I was just thinking you handle this car very capably."

"I've been driving it for a long time."

"Belonged to Dar, didn't it?"

She nodded. "He left no survivors, legal ones, that is. The personnel people gave me the option of keeping it or selling it. I kept it as a reminder of him. Not that I needed one."

"I certainly can't fault his taste . . . in cars or women."

"Well, there certainly were enough of them."

"Cars?"

"Women," she said without rancor.

"I meant you specifically." He smiled as a blush betrayed her embarrassment. "The others all predated you and would've fallen short, I'm sure."

Her hands clutched the wheel as she looked over at him and then back at the road. "How would you know that?"

"The office grapevine.
While I was training at the Agency, your relationship was a hot topic. And the grapevine seemed convinced that you'd settled him down and transformed him into a one-woman man."

"At least I was there for him for a little while."

"You're still there for him . . . making sure justice is done. I could've used that kind of loyalty." He glanced at the scenery, remembering his failed marriage,
then
shrugged off the pain.
 

"What happened between you and your wife?"

That she understood his reference surprised him. Maybe he could bring himself to talk about
Sherelle
. "The court martial happened. She couldn't hack the embarrassment and the public condemnation so she left."

"That must have been tough to handle."

"Apparently.
Being married to an up-and-coming officer carried a lot of prestige with it, so she never minded being a Marine wife. But when the
unkcé
hit the fan, she felt as though fingers pointed at her, too. Fact is
,
the media attention hurt everyone on the
rez
. Whatever was said or written about me reflected on the rest of the tribe. In some ways it was worse for them than for me. At least I knew I was innocent."

"I was thinking about you not her. Just when you needed her support, she cut out. Why aren't you
more bitter
?"

"I was, for a long time, but I don't think about her much anymore."

A small sign with an arrow pointing left came into view. Zan looked at her side view mirror,
then
made the turn. "Seems like you had a right to expect she'd stand by you."

"Yeah, well, it's one thing to be pilloried by an unfeeling system that demands loyalty without returning the favor. It's another to be deserted by someone who's supposed to love and care about you." He groaned inwardly. "Does that sound like self-pity?"

"Not coming from you. Besides, your feelings are your feelings, and no one has the right to belittle them." She gave him a teasing smile that warmed him in a way he hadn't felt in too long. "Not even a big strong Marine like you."

He found it easy to talk to this woman. Despite their differences, she had the ability to appreciate how he felt, one of the many qualities his ex-wife had lacked. He grinned. And she had a better sense of humor.

The car bumped along the pitted road that bisected the reservation. Looking for Thunder Butte, he watched table-top formations rise above the prairie. Far in the distance he spotted the faint shape of the place where the Great Spirit had defined his future, promising he would walk at the head of his people and lead them into the next century.

In preparing him for the vision quest, his Grandfather had cautioned that to run from a prophecy could bring disaster. But Stormwalker didn't believe in divine intervention, either to punish or to bless. He'd chosen a life beyond the reservation and right or wrong, would continue to make his own choices. Any disasters that resulted would be of his making. Another curve obscured the landmark. He would have to go up there again.
Soon.

Zan parked in front of
Stormwalker's
house and turned to him. "You've lost your father, your marriage, your career and reputation. This situation has cost you just about everything."

"That's why it's important for you to get at the truth."

"No matter what it is?"

Like two long-time friends, they'd trusted each other today. Considering how far apart they'd been only days ago, the conversation had amounted to a huge gamble for both of them but he was pretty certain the results had been worth the risk.
"No matter."

"Haven't we had this conversation before?" Zan asked.

"Same words, different attitude."

He uncoiled and levered himself up and out of the car, returning the smile that had brightened the darkest places in his heart. "I do believe we just turned a corner." With a two-fingered salute, he turned and went into the house.

Chapter 5

 
Zan woke early after a restless night and went to the computer with a muffin in one hand and a cup of black coffee in the other. She picked up where she'd left off,
examining
the remainder of Dar's file. After several minutes, her phone rang. Without taking her eyes from the screen, she reached over and picked up the receiver.