Lone Wolf (2 page)

Thomas couldn't help the smile that crept across his own features. He suddenly had a brand new appreciation for going to the dentist.

****

Thomas's mouth still felt tingly by the time they got home that evening. They'd stayed to do a little shopping after their dental appointments since trips to the city were few and far between. Now that they were home and Whisper was in bed, Thomas had time to open his laptop and see what he had missed by not checking in with the team that day.

He scanned through several emails, his mind not really taking in the information. Finally, he logged off and shut his laptop with a click. There was no point in trying to work when his mind was on other things. On her.

Dr. Ducharme had surprised him, not just because she was a native woman who was also a dentist. He'd been surprised by her talkativeness and her candor. He liked that. Or maybe what he really liked was her pretty face and body. Thomas frowned slightly, considering that he actually didn't know definitively what her body type was. She'd been wearing a lab coat, for goodness sake, but it had been open for the most part, and he'd caught glimpses. He guessed her to be in her mid-thirties, seeing as she was a dentist and that kind of schooling took some time.

He shook his head. It had been awhile since he'd allowed his mind to wander in that direction. He'd gone on a few dates in the last couple of years. Make that two dates, both set up by his cousin. Neither one ended well. He was looking for a woman that shared his values, his faith. Whether she was Cree like him or not didn't matter. His cousin didn't seem to get that part of the equation. And then there was that disastrous fling he'd almost had with Whisper's kindergarten teacher. Thank goodness God had intervened.

Maybe he was only destined to get one chance at love. One shot and that had been Rhea. She was the love of his life and could never be replaced. Still, he was lonely sometimes, despite his children, friends, and church family.

He could picture Rhea now, at the camp meeting where they'd met. He had stumbled into the meeting, reeking of alcohol and looking for a place to crash. She was willowy and tall, slim-hipped with long black hair that swung past her waist. She'd prayed with him that first night and he came back the next night—more to see her than experience anything God had to offer. Except God had other plans. Thomas had met Jesus on that second night and his life had never been the same. When Rhea died of cancer, he thought he would die along with her. But he had survived—he and his children—these past five years. Maybe it was time to move on. Rhea would probably approve.

“Hey, Dad.” Ryder stood in the doorway of the small office situated at the back of the trailer. His hands were in his jeans pockets.

Thomas swung his office chair around to better face his son. “What's up?”

“Just wondered what you thought about me going to Saskatoon in the fall.” Ryder leaned his shoulder against the door frame.

Thomas's brows rose slightly. “Why? You having second thoughts about the program in Regina?”

Ryder moved into the room and sat down in the other unoccupied chair. “No…I just thought maybe I'd like to try Saskatoon.”

“Any particular reason?”

Ryder shrugged. “I don't know. A couple of my friends are going there.”

“Isn't it a bit late to change your mind now? You've already been accepted at the U of R.”

“If I got my application in right away—”

Thomas cut him off. “A year in Regina will help you decide what you want to major in. Besides, it's closer to home and you can come home on the weekends.”

Ryder twisted his hands in his lap, not looking up at his father. “Saskatoon's not that much farther. Plus, Auntie Joan lives there and Tanzi and Renee…”

Thomas cleared his throat and sat forward in the chair. “Hold on. As much as I love my family, you know Auntie Joan is not the best role model.”

“I know, I know. She drinks. But you said yourself that sometimes people need a good influence.”

“And you think you could be that good influence?” Thomas cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Ryder avoided eye contact, looking instead at a calendar pinned to the bulletin board near the desk.

“It might work the other way, you know.”

“Don't you trust me?” Ryder asked. “You know I'm solid. I won't let anything get in the way of my faith.”

“Of course I trust you. It's your Auntie Joan I don't trust.” Thomas took a breath and then tried to smile. “Besides, I'd like to have you a little closer to home, that's all.”

“You're probably not going to stay here much longer yourself,” Ryder reasoned. “Maybe your next job will be further north and you'd actually be closer.”

“Maybe. But that's not a good enough reason. You know the university in Regina has exactly the kind of program you're looking for.”

“The kind you're looking for,” Ryder said just under his breath.

Thomas frowned. “I'm not trying to run your life, son. But give me a little credit for having been there and done that. Your Auntie Joan is toxic. You don't want to get involved.”

Ryder rolled his eyes. “Dad.”

Thomas waved a hand. “I mean it. She uses people, and I'm not going to let my son get sucked into that.”

“That is hardly the Christian response, Dad, and you know it. She's your own sister.”

“I know that. I've tried to help her. Your mother and I both did. But at some point, helping becomes enabling. Only God can help her, and then only if she wants it.”

“I'm not dumb. I won't do anything stupid.”

Thomas locked gazes with his son. “We'll talk about this again another time, okay? Right now I have work to do.”

Ryder sighed heavily. “Okay.” He stood up and turned to leave.

“Ryder?”

The boy stopped and looked over his shoulder at his father. “Yeah?”

“You know I love you, right?”

Ryder nodded. “Of course.”

“I just want what's best for you.”

“I know.”

Thomas watched his boy-turning-man exit the tiny office space. He really did want what was best, and that meant keeping his kids away from his family. With a sigh of his own, Thomas swung his chair back to face his computer. It was time he tackled some work after all.

The next Saturday Thomas found himself in the city again, this time for an unexpected business meeting. It started at one o'clock, but he still had time to grab a quick bite to eat. Thomas pulled into his favorite fast food and coffee joint and parked his SUV.

As he stood in line near the counter, he thought about today's meeting. There were still a few things to work out in terms of staffing the center. The community of Marshdale expected that several positions would be recruited from local residents, especially part-timers and summer staff. There were certain interest groups that thought otherwise. Their feeling was that all staff should be visibly “native,” even if they weren't especially qualified, lending mystique if not credibility to the project. Thomas wasn't sure how comfortable he was with either option. He understood both sides, but hated even the semblance of racial bias. The ideal worker had to be passionate and well-qualified, not just look the part. He hoped they could come to a consensus. The last thing they needed was to delay the opening over politics. He'd had enough of that—from all sides.

Thomas sat down with his tray and proceeded to unwrap his sandwich. He was just about to take a bite when he felt rather than saw someone approach the tiny circular table.

“Hello. Mind if we join you?”

Thomas looked up and his eyes opened wider. It was Dr. Ducharme. She was holding her own tray with a cup of coffee, a juice, and two donuts on it, and there was a little girl beside her. He stood instantly, awkwardly. “Yes, please do.” He gestured to the empty chairs across from him. His initial instinct was right: Dr. Ducharme's body was even more appealing minus the lab coat. Form-fitting jeans hugged her narrow hips and a deep purple V-neck sweater dipped just low enough to catch his attention. Her raven-black hair hung loose down her back. He swallowed a lump, remembering how he'd loved Rhea's long hair. He waited until the doctor and her companion got settled before sitting again himself.

“Thanks. This is my daughter, Maggie. Maggie, this is Mr. Lone Wolf.” She arranged one of the donuts and the juice in front of the girl.

Thomas's eyebrows rose. He had never considered that she would have a child. Perhaps that meant she had a husband, too. The little girl was wearing a pink shirt and jean jumper dress. Her hair was much lighter than her mother's, almost blonde, and it was tied up in two high ponytails at the sides of her head. Her father must be white—not that it mattered—but her eyes were a warm brown and had a distinctive slant. “Hi, Maggie. I have a little girl around your age. Well, maybe a bit older. Her name is Whisper.”

“I'm five,” was all Maggie said. She bit into her donut.

“Five. That's pretty big. You must be going into kindergarten,” Thomas said.

Maggie nodded vigorously, her mouth full.

“I'm surprised to see you here.” The doctor smiled at him as she added some cream to her coffee.

“I'm in town for a meeting. Thought I'd grab a bite before it starts.”

“I see.” She took a small bite of her donut.

Thomas gestured at the donut in her hand. “I'm surprised to see you eating a donut. Can't be good for your teeth.”

She smiled and raised an eyebrow until she finished chewing. “Dentists eat things that aren't good for them, too. Besides, I carry a toothbrush in my purse.” Her gaze held his over the rim of her cup as she took a sip of her coffee.

“Of course you do.” He grinned before taking a bite of his own sandwich.

He was still chewing when she stuck her hand out. “By the way, my name is Nicole. We weren't properly introduced and Dr. Ducharme is much too formal for a place like this.”

He grasped hers across the table. “Right. And I'm—”

“Thomas,” she finished for him. “I know.” Their eyes locked for moment before he let his hand go limp and she withdrew hers.

Thomas blinked and looked down at his sandwich. He picked it up with two hands and took another bite. A bit of mustard plopped onto his fresh white shirt. With a grunt of dismay, he set the sandwich back on its plate and tried to wipe at the stain with a napkin.

“Here.” Nicole dug in her purse and came up with something that looked like a marker. “This is actually a purse-sized stain remover. Just rub it on and the stain will fade away right before your eyes.”

“Wow. You come well stocked. A toothbrush and stain remover.” He took the pen and did as instructed. The stain all but disappeared.

“I tend to be a messy eater myself.” She smiled as she took back the pen. “So what kind of work do you do?”

“I work for myself. I'm a consultant—a liaison between government and indigenous groups, both on an official level and non-government level.”

“That sounds interesting. What does it mean, though?” She lifted a brow as one corner of her mouth turned up.

“I've worked on a variety of projects—business opportunities, joint ventures, heritage sites…whatever. You call, I answer.” He grinned and took another bite, careful this time to lean over his plate.

“Still not sure what you're talking about. Your command of bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo is impressive, but how about an example?”

“Well, right now I'm finishing a project out at a site near the town of Marshdale. Old Man's Lake. We're building a cultural center there and my job is to make sure all the interested parties get along. Kind of like a baby-sitter, only I get paid a lot more.”

Nicole nodded. “Ah. Babysitters I understand. And I've heard of the project out there, too. It's been in the news a few times over the past year or two.”

“Old Man's Lake was a huge gathering place for tribes across the western plains, not just the Cree. It's got real historical significance and there have been some amazing finds there. Not to mention, it's kind of personal for me, as well. My great-grandfather was one of the last medicine men to visit the area before wide-scale homesteading took place.”

“I also remember hearing something about some racial stuff going on out there.” Nicole furrowed her brow and her chewing slowed until she swallowed. “Wait a minute. Now I remember. Something about the project organizer getting stabbed…”

Thomas just nodded, a slightly awkward smile playing on his lips until he took another bite of his sandwich.

“Was that you?” She looked straight at him and her eyes were wide.

Thomas nodded again.

“Did it hurt?” Maggie asked, speaking up for the first time.

“Yes, but I'm better now,” Thomas responded.

“How can you stay in a place where racial discrimination is that entrenched?” Nicole asked.

Thomas frowned. “It's not really like that. At least not any more. And the woman who stabbed me was a nutcase, as in
loco
. She ended up in a facility.”

Nicole scrutinized him a little more closely. “Well, at least you recovered. You don't look any worse for wear.”

“And the center is almost ready to open, so all's well that ends well.”

“Wow. That was pretty crazy.” Nicole shook her head.

“Tell me about it.” Thomas laughed.

Nicole cocked her head to one side and squinted at Thomas. “You know, you might be just the person to help with a problem back at my home reserve.”

“What's that?”

“Well, there's been a huge rise in cancer rates since all the oil and gas activity started near there fifteen or twenty years ago. Government regulations have stopped some of the pollution, but there is still a lot of contamination getting into the water system from upstream. The people are just now looking into ways to fight for better regulations and maybe get some kind of compensation for all the damage it's caused.”

Thomas nodded. “I just read something about that. It was in your office, actually, in a magazine article.” He looked over at her. “Jackfish Landing? Is that your community?”

“Yes. That's it.”

“My kookum lives there,” Maggie informed him, using the Cree word for grandmother.

“I'm not really sure what I could do,” Thomas said. “My area of expertise is in business. Getting projects off the ground. That sounds more like a legal issue.”

“I suppose you're right. There are people working on it already, anyway. I just thought you might have some good advice.” Nicole looked down at her coffee cup.

“I do have a lot of contacts,” Thomas offered. His leather jacket was hanging on the back of his chair and he reached inside the pocket and pulled out a business card. “Here's my card. Call me if you think things aren't moving forward fast enough, and I'll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.” Nicole smiled as she took the card.

Thomas sighed. “Well, I guess I better get going now. My meeting starts soon and I still need to get there.” He stood up. “It was really nice to run into you. I mean that.” He held her gaze for just a second and then switched to make eye contact with Maggie. “And it was nice to meet you too, Maggie.”

He wished he didn't have to go off to some bureaucratic meeting. He'd love nothing better than to get to know Nicole Ducharme and her daughter. For one thing, he'd like to know if she had a significant other. He could have just asked, but that would seem too forward. Besides, he was probably a lot older than she was, and she wouldn't be interested in a toughened character like him. He was better off leaving well enough alone.

****

Thomas felt the vibration of his telephone in his pocket. The kids were watching a sitcom on TV and it was turned up rather loud. He stood up and retrieved the phone, walking into the kitchen so as not to disturb his children as he checked the identity of the caller. He frowned. Unknown number.

He hit the talk button. “Hello?”

“Hi, Thomas. It's Nicole.”

His brows rose. “Oh. Hi, Nicole.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am,” he admitted. “But not unpleasantly so. What's up?”

“I've been thinking more about what we talked about on Saturday. You seem to have a lot of background in helping out First Nations communities, and according to my mother, the committee formed to look into things isn't making much progress. I thought maybe you could do something. At least point us in the right direction.”

“Well…it's true, I have had a lot of experience dealing with various levels of government, but most of that is setting up businesses or other projects. They probably need to consult a lawyer and I am definitely not that.”

“But you probably know a few good lawyers. Ones that would be sympathetic to our cause.”

Thomas nodded, even though she couldn't see him do so. “Yes, that's true.”

“Excellent. I knew you'd be the person to call.”

He laughed. “I haven't done anything yet. I know a guy up in Saskatoon that has had a lot to do with land claims. He's the first one that comes to mind, but he's pretty sought after and might not be willing to take on your case. There is a lot of research that needs to be done first, if I'm right.”

“And you probably know someone who could help with that, too.”

Thomas smiled. “Well…as a matter of fact, I do.”

“A man with connections. Just what I like.”

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. I'll make a few calls and get back to you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. I'm at work all day every day, it seems, and then I like to spend some time with Maggie, so it has to be after nine, if that's okay.”

“Sure. I'm in the same boat. Is this the best number to call?”

“Yes. This is my cell number.”

“Good.” He hesitated, not wanting to end the call but having nothing else to say. “Right. Well, I'll call you tomorrow evening.”

They hung up and Thomas re-pocketed the phone. He sauntered back to the living room and flopped down on the couch beside Whisper.

“Who was that?” Ryder asked.

“Oh, just business,” Thomas said.

“You look awfully happy about it, whatever it was,” Ryder observed.

Thomas put his arm around Whisper and snuggled her close. He couldn't help the smile he knew was on his face. Why shouldn't he smile? He had just set himself up to work with the beautiful Dr. Ducharme on a project that could take months.

****

At precisely nine o'clock the next night, Thomas called Nicole. He'd managed to contact Allan Spence, a well-known lawyer in Saskatoon who had experience working with First Nations groups and who also happened to be Cree. “Of course, your group would have to contact him and set something up, but he definitely sounded interested. The scenario at Jackfish Landing is just the kind of thing that Spence gravitates toward. He doesn't mind stirring up the pot, so to speak.”

“That sounds excellent. I'll let my uncle know right away,” Nicole responded. “He's the one trying to get something going up there. I'm not sure how organized they are, though.”

“That's probably something Allan Spence could help with, too—for a fee of course. I also know someone else who might be able to help out in that regard. She and I worked together on a project once in Manitoba, and she's really good at finding and collating data.”

“She? Should I be jealous?”

Thomas blinked, tongue-tied for a second. “No, I—”

Nicole's laughter tinkled on the other end of the line. “Relax! I'm just teasing, of course.”

“Of course.” Thomas cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair.

“So who is this other person?” Nicole asked, all business again.

“Sandy Beaufort. I'll email you her contact info.”

“Thanks.”

There was a brief moment of silence. It seems they had run out of things to say, but Thomas was hesitant to hang up so soon. He shifted the receiver to the other ear. “Um, how's Maggie?”

“Fine. She's in bed. And your kids?”

“They're fine, too.” Thomas took a deep breath before continuing. “So, Maggie's dad…I take it he's out of the picture?” He glanced up at the ceiling, noting a spider web that hung in one corner.

“What makes you think that?” Nicole asked.

Thomas was glad she couldn't see the heat rising up his neck. “Sorry. I just assumed—”

Nicole laughed again. “Yes. He's totally out of the picture. He was never really in it to begin with.”

Thomas expelled a breath. “Oh, good. I mean, that's too bad…” He frowned, frustrated with his own tongue-tied state.

“Yeah, it was one of those stupid spur-of-the-moment things while I was still in college. I had already decided which path my life was on and so had he. It never would have worked out, so we just cut the strings altogether.”

“Does he see Maggie? Have any kind of contact? If you don't mind me asking, that is.”

“No. He couldn't afford child support at first and now I make more than him anyway, so it's just easier not to bother.”

“Doesn't Maggie wonder about her father?”

“Not really. At least not yet, anyway. It's not like I'm keeping him from her and when the time is right and she asks about it, I'll give her any contact information I know. For now, we're pretty content. Just me and my girl.”

“That's the best way, I guess.”

“What about you?” Nicole asked. “You haven't mentioned anything about a wife or partner.”

“My wife died of cancer five years ago,” Thomas replied. “So it's just me and the kids.”

“Oh. I'm sorry to hear that.” She hesitated. “But I assumed as much. I couldn't imagine a woman in her right mind letting you get away. And if she was around, she'd probably be jealous of a strange woman calling you so late. I know I would be.”

Thomas blinked, uncertain what to make of what she'd just said. She was flirting; he had no doubt.