Hunter Moon (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Clay watched Gabe directing his men to wait and then ducked through the fencing. A moment later, he and their uncle came striding forward together in a perfect matched gait. They made an ominous sight, Gabe in his police uniform, gold tribal shield flashing in the sunlight, and Luke, dressed in a dark gray suit and tie that made him look every inch the G-man.

There was no easy way to tell his brother that he had fled the scene of a crime. Luckily, Gabe opened the conversation without waiting for him.

“She okay?”

Clay nodded.

“You okay?”

Another nod.

“I told you to stay put.”

“Did you expect me to?”

Gabe’s mouth quirked for just an instant as he struggled to keep hold of his stern expression.

“Did you pick up Tessay?” asked Clay.

“Not yet. Brought all the horses,” he said, motioning toward the six cruisers that covered the 1,800 square miles of Apache reservation. He glanced back toward the woods, where Izzie emerged from the rocks leading her horses.

“I need you to call a vet. They shot Biscuit.”

Gabe got on his radio. Then he rested a hand on his pistol as if it was the armrest of a familiar chair.

From the woods came howls of anger mingled with the high-pitched screams of pain. Luke and Gabe exchanged a look.

“Who’s that?”

Clay went through it in sequence, the call from Rubin, finding his body. His conversation with Tribal Councilman Arnold Tessay and then coming to help Izzie face five cartel killers.

“How many dead?” asked Luke.

“None.”

That made both men exchange a look. Gabe shook his head in clear disappointment, and his uncle cocked his head to stare at Clay.

“What?” asked Clay.

“You should shoot to kill,” said Gabe, repeating what he knew from law enforcement. If you use your weapon, aim for mass.

Clay knew that philosophy. But he had a record. That made him see things differently.

“Very dangerous,” said Luke.

“More witnesses for you,” said Clay.

“Let’s go mop up.” Gabe lifted his radio. One of the cruisers headed up the mountain, to the improved road and the abandoned SUV.

Luke called his partner. She exited the car by the road, and Clay was struck with two things. She was small, and she was so blonde that her hair seemed to be a reflection of the sunlight.

“
That’s
your partner?” asked Clay.

Luke glanced back. “Yeah. I know. But she’s tougher than she looks.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Young. On her third assignment. Before that she was in US Army.”

“Oh, boy,” said Clay, knowing army and US Marines didn’t always get along.

“It’s okay. Let’s go find some illegal aliens.”

Clay walked them across the pasture where Izzie waited with Rocket and Biscuit, comforting the horses. Biscuit now stood with her front leg raised and her chest oozing blood.

After Clay had pointed out all the wriggling bodies of their attackers, Gabe took him into custody. Izzie left Biscuit the minute she saw Gabe put Clay in the back of his cruiser. It was the ride Clay had never wanted to take again, and this time Izzie was there to witness his humiliation. Somehow, despite all his efforts, he was in custody again. The look on Izzie’s face made Clay feel sick. He read her expression as a kind of acceptance that he was what they all said, the black sheep, the black eye, the raw wound, the lost child or worse...just like his father.

Clay went through another round of questioning at the station. Gabe told him all the men he’d captured would live and that Luke and his partner, Agent Walker, had taken custody of them. He also told him that Clyne had called a special meeting of the tribal council and that Tessay had been suspended pending investigation. It seemed that Arnold’s prediction was wrong. The federal and local law did not take his word at face value and were investigating Rubin’s death with Tessay as the prime suspect.

Clyne appeared after the meeting at police headquarters with an attorney for Clay, whom Gabe said he didn’t need. It was a rare instance when his two older brothers disagreed. Clyne won the argument, as usual, and Clay’s new attorney began the process of securing Clay’s release on bail, which Clyne generously posted.

Clay was released to Clyne’s custody, and he picked up his personal items at the main desk to discover Izzie had called twice. He didn’t call back. He was too tired and his heart was too sore to hear her goodbye.

He had a late meal with Clyne and his grandmother; Gabe and Luke were too busy to make an appearance. He’d never gotten a chance to move his things here, so he returned to his place, and it was not until he hit the shower that the exhaustion really took hold. He barely got dried off before he stretched out on the couch and was out as if someone hit him on the head.

On Sunday morning, he woke to the far off buzzing of the alarm in his old bedroom because he had forgotten to turn it off. He groaned and buried his face under the sofa pillow until he recalled that Izzie regularly attended church. That got him up and moving. He threw his packed possessions into his truck. It was discouraging that everything but his saddle fit in only two large duffels and a single box. He made it to his grandmother’s in time to join her and his brothers for services. But he was disappointed to find Izzie was not in attendance. Her brothers and mother were there, and her mother seemed to spend the entire service staring at Clay in stony silence and then formally thanked him for saving her daughter’s life. It was the most awkward moment of his life, followed by the next as Clay accepted the offered kiss on the cheek and then excused himself, leaving his grandmother and Izzie’s mother deep in conversation.

On Monday, Clay was back at work and was surprised when his boss told Clay that he was proud of him. On Tuesday, Gabe arrested Boone Pizarro. According to Donner, the shamed councillor implicated Pizarro while looking for a plea deal. Pizarro was accused both of rebranding Izzie’s cattle and ordering Victor Bustros to check Izzie’s cattle’s brands. No charges were made against Bustros yet.

Wednesday morning Clay’s new attorney stopped by his work to tell him the forensics came back on Rubin’s murder. Clay’s prints were all over the murder weapon, which was bad, of course. But a partial print of Arnold Tessay’s was found on one of the empty bullet casings at the scene. It was enough to hold Tessay, who had secured a defense attorney, a “damned good one” who had already requested a bail hearing.

Clay wondered if Tessay would get it because he’d heard his uncle Luke predict Tessay was a flight risk and, if allowed bail, might flee, but perhaps that was because Luke was hoping he would run. Leaving the reservation meant Tessay would lose his protected status. Clay knew that Luke and his partner were building a federal case against him, which he would present for the tribal council’s approval and, if successful, press the district attorney to accept the case.

Clyne showed up on Wednesday evening to take him to the closed session of tribal council and told him that their youngest brother, Kino, and his new wife, Lea, were due home tomorrow.

“Ready?” asked Clyne.

“Yeah.” They climbed into his older brother’s SUV, but Clyne didn’t start up the vehicle.

Clay lifted his brows in an unspoken question.

Clyne drummed his fingers on the wheel. “She’s speaking to the tribal council tonight, same as you.”

He didn’t need to ask who
she
was. Izzie. He’d see her. It would be hard, as hard as every chance meeting he had suffered through since his return from the detention center in Colorado.

But when he entered the council chambers, it was worse than he imagined. He saw her. No, he
felt
her. Just being in the same room caused a physical pain in his chest. He rubbed his knuckles over his sternum, but it only got worse.

Izzie stood when he entered and walked down the center aisle to meet him. His shoulders went tight as if every muscle there had suddenly seized up. He clenched his jaw, and sweat rose on his brow.

Before him most of the tribal council were already seated. The council members, minus Arnold Tessay, sat on one side of the table. Their chairman, Ralph Siqueria, had returned from DC and presided over the closed session with only invited speakers. Gabe, Luke, his blonde partner and Izzie all sat on the opposite side of the table but pivoted as Clyne and Clay entered.

Izzie waited as Clay approached. He didn’t know what kept him moving.

“Hello, Clay,” she said.

He nodded, hoping to move past her to his seat, but she blocked his path.

Clay glanced to the witnesses and grimaced. They all sat motionless as if afraid to miss a moment of this personal drama.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” said Izzie.

“That’s so.”

“Why?”

“Izzie, let’s just get through this?”

She shook her head. “Not until I tell you something.”

He gazed down at her soft brown eyes, taking in the image of her pointed chin and the angle of her brow and her smooth skin and, well, everything that made her so beautiful. In that moment he had time to consider all the mistakes that kept him from being what she needed. Clyne took his seat across from Gabe. Clay looked at his older brothers. Their presence seemed to mock him. Neither of his brothers had let their mother’s tragic death or their father’s train wreck of a life derail theirs.

“Are you listening to me?” she asked.

Had she been speaking? His face went hot. He wished she would not do this now, so publicly. But perhaps she wanted all to know she was grateful and their business was finished. He could bear it. Couldn’t he?

“Clay, I said that I made mistakes. That I let my obligations and the opinions of others keep me from doing what
I
wanted. But I won’t let that happen anymore. It is
my
life and
my
decision what man I choose to share it with.”

Clay wrinkled his brow in confusion. This was not the speech he had expected to hear.

“I don’t understand.”

“When I was young, I listened to my mother. I pretended to avoid you, but I went out with Martin just to be near you. When he died, I didn’t grieve for him. I grieved for you and for us, and that shames me. Then when you came back, I was so certain that I had to fulfill my promise to my father and to keep the herd for my brothers before I even considered a family of my own.”

Clay’s heart was beating so fast that his ribs ached.

“I understand, Mizz Nosie.”

Izzie stamped her foot. “Don’t you dare call me that. Not after the night we spent together.”

His gaze snapped to hers. Behind him, he heard the intake of breath from someone on the council. Was that Clyne, shocked at Izzie’s admission?

Why would she tell them all? She had always guarded her reputation. An Apache woman’s virtue was important. Her honor like a living thing, to be nurtured...but she had told them all—publicly.

He scrutinized her face, but she had adopted the blank expression of a woman who did not wish to reveal her emotions. He felt the first stirring of hope. She had stood here before her tribal leadership and told them, every one of them, what they had done.

She must have lost her mind. He tried to control the damage.

“It was the fear, the need, that’s all.”

“No.” She grabbed the front of his shirt, bunching it in her fists, and gave him a little shake. But she didn’t need to, because she had his full attention. “It was not the fear or the need. I am not ashamed of you. I am ashamed of myself. I am proud of you. You are brave, honest, smart. You put the needs of everyone first. You helped Kino down on the border, and you are giving up your place so he can make a home there with his wife. You helped Gabe and your uncle solve this case. And you kept me alive.”

His breathing was so fast that he was dizzy with it. He had to widen his stance just to regain his equilibrium.

“Bella?”

“I love you, Clay Cosen. I have loved you since I was a little girl, and I will love you all my life.”

He looked at her, trying to understand what was happening, afraid to believe his ears. She nodded, confirming what she had said.

“I love you,” she whispered.

She said that here, aloud before the entire tribal council. Clay’s jaw dropped as he looked from one smiling face to the next.

She loved him.

“Clay, can you ever forgive me?”

The buzzing in his ears silenced all sound. He could not hear the men and women behind him at the council table, because his senses were too full of Isabella Nosie.

And possibilities.

“Is it true?” he asked.

“I love you so much.”

He turned to his brothers, his voice hushed with astonishment. Clyne was wiping at his eyes, and Gabe had puffed up like a Tom turkey.

“She loves me,” he said to them.

Clyne called for a recess.

Several of the council members glanced at Clay and Izzie as they rose and made their way out of the chamber.

* * *

I
ZZIE
STARED
AT
Clay, but he just stood there with a stunned look on his face. She had bared her soul to him, and he was silent as the room in which they stood.

Was this how he had felt after the shame of his arrest, standing in the judicial chamber? What if he didn’t love her? What if she had waited too long? What if he could not forget, could not forgive?

Her cheeks burned with shame. Why should he forgive her? She had done nothing to earn his love.

“You said that in front of everybody. The entire council.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just—just...” She was a fool. “I wanted everyone to know.” She dropped her gaze. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

She stared up at him, willing her lower lip to cease its trembling. He remained silent, and she could not read his thoughts. All she knew was that she was too late.

It was hard to speak now. The pain lodged in her throat like a wedge, choking her. There was no saving face, no way to keep her pride. She had taken the risk and lost.

“I’d understand if you can’t forgive me. I was so caught up in what my father wanted and what my mother wanted that I lost sight of us.”