Love Is in the Air (87 page)

“There, there, sweetheart,” Natalie consoled. “I tried to warn you, hon. He’s hot, but he’s still a man.”

This was not what Regina needed to hear, but her throat was beyond talking so she could not interrupt the blonde.

“And a stupid one at that. If he’d just kept his damn mouth shut, you two could have had a wonderful evening.”

Regina herself had thought of that on the way over. Why did Quinton have to go and ruin everything? A part of her wished that she did not know his secret and that they were still out in the woods, exploring each other.

Natalie tsk-tsked again. “He had nothing to win and everything to lose. What a dolt. Don’t you give him another thought, sweetie. He’s obviously not worth it.” Regina could explain in a thousand different ways how much Quinton was worth, although she did not bother. Natalie would just shoot down each one. But even the blonde recognized how odd it was for Quinton to have confessed. Straightening, Regina tried to swipe away her smeared makeup, but Natalie fussed at her and led Regina into the bathroom.

“Honey, you need more than tissue to clean up that face. Here. Use some of my lotion and get yourself freshened up while I change into something more… something less comfortable.”

Despite Regina’s foul mood, she smiled weakly at her friend’s joke. But what she saw in the mirror caused Regina to frown again. Mascara streaked down her face. Whatever rouge she had put on was long gone, and her lipstick was smeared around her lips, giving her that grungy look that was similar to the women who populated the covers of Michael’s CDs. Washing her face, Regina scrubbed all the makeup off. What was left was not much prettier. Dark circles accentuated her puffy eyes, her nose was a sickly red, and her face was an ashen color.

What had happened? Just a few hours ago, she had felt downright radiant in the forest. With the moon shining down and the town twinkling in the night, Regina had felt like a beauty queen. Now she looked more like her mother. The thought made her shudder. No one deserved that fate.

Except maybe an adulteress. The thought struck her in the face as hard as a slap. That was what she was, wasn’t it? Granted they had not consummated their passion, but they had crossed over the line. Even if no one ever knew, Regina could never forget that she had cheated on Wayne. But even that guilty thought was a bit confusing. If she was going to hang such an ominous title over her head for the rest of her life, could they not have gotten a little bit further? If she were going to suffer eternal damnation, Regina would have preferred to have gone all the way. At least then, she would have something to remember that would be worth all the guilt.

What was she thinking? Regina splashed some cold water over her face. Thoughts like that were not going to be tolerated anymore. Look where that type of thinking had gotten her. Just bleary-eyed and feeling like she had been run over by her own car.

Regina smoothed lotion over her dry skin. But no matter how hard she tried, her mind kept wandering back to Quinton. Why had he told her his secret? Quinton easily could have kept that fact guarded until after he left the valley. Regina did not believe Natalie’s take on the situation. She knew for certain that Quinton was not stupid. Then why? Could he have been telling the truth? Could he have truly felt something for her? Now that thought was downright ridiculous. A man like that—a man that could partner up with Wayne to break the law would not have the compassion to feel love.

Sadly, she had to admit to herself that the fantasy was truly over. There would be no knight to come and sweep her off her feet. There would be no making love by the moonlight. The only thing on Regina’s horizon was housecleaning, and lots of it. She desperately needed something to distract her from her body’s preoccupation with all things sensual. Even now, rubbing on the lotion felt good in a way she had not felt before.

Stray thoughts of Quinton’s touch would not leave her alone. How could his hands be so kind, and his heart be so tainted? Sighing, Regina opened the door and walked back out into the hallway. Resigned to reality, she realized that some questions were never meant to be answered.

* * *

Quinton leaned against the cold metal of Black Feather’s truck. It had been easy to find his cousin’s truck. The vehicle was a newer make and a different model than the one Quinton last saw, but it had the same vanity license plates—#1 Brave. Once Regina had left, Quinton did not have the heart to join the boisterous potlatch. Quinton had no idea how long he had been sitting here in the damp grass, but the waiting had not helped his mood any. Doubt and regret plagued his thoughts. He had replayed the evening at least a thousand times. Was there something he could have done differently that would have changed Regina’s mind?

“Thought I’d find you here,” Black Feather said as he ambled up to Quinton.

Shrugging, Quinton asked, “Could you give me a ride back into town?

“Heading that way myself. Hop in.”

The first half of the drive was made in silence. Quinton felt awkward asking a favor of a man he had shunned for over a decade, but Quinton did not know where else to turn. He certainly did not feel up to making the hike back into town on foot. This sorrow could not be walked away.

“Didn’t go exactly as planned, huh?” Black Feather asked.

“No.”

“Think she’ll come around?”

Quinton shook his head. “Not very likely. I don’t deserve her, anyway.”

“Oh, please!” Black Feather snorted. “When did you become such a drama queen?”

Quinton felt like saying, “when my life went to shit” but did not. Rather than go down that road, Quinton felt it was time to make his apologies to his cousin. “Look, Black. I know a lot of time has passed—”

“Too long for you to fix it all in one night, Quinn. Give yourself a break, man. This self-flagellation thing doesn’t look too good on you.”

Tensing, Quinton continued. He wanted forgiveness from somebody, damn it, and Black Feather was his captive audience. “I’ve got a lot of explaining to do for the years that I have been gone.”

“Says who? The Great Guilt Police in the sky? Quinn, you really have been gone too long. Tell us what you want to. When you want to. The rest will work itself out.”

“You have no idea what I’ve done.”

Black Feather arched an eyebrow. “No? Don’t think that Whispering Flower is the only one who has been on the lookout for you. It’s amazing how closely you can keep track of someone on the ‘net.”

“What do you mean?”

“Quinn, we all know you legally changed your name and took that job with the sleazy EPA dupe corporation—”

“How did you find that out?” Quinton was angry now. It was one thing to divulge one’s secrets, but to have your family spying on you was quite another.

“You’re not the only one who’s changed, Quinn. Didn’t you wonder just a tad how I could afford this SUV? Or how the reservation was able to put on such an elaborate festival?”

Quinton had to admit that he had not. The evening was filled with so many distractions that he had not taken a close look at his family’s living arrangements. “How?”

“I handle the PR and legal groundwork for opening casinos on reservation lands. It’s a pretty lucrative gig.”

“Our reservation has a casino now?”

Black Feather shook his head. “No way. Too small a surrounding Anglo population to support it. Besides, I’ve seen what it can do to a community. Some handle it great, and it’s a boon. Others, well, they don’t do so well.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Why not? Someone’s going to. The public wants it. The Indians want it. Why not get a fat commission off the deal? I bring home the money and fund this reservation. We get all the benefit and none of the bullshit.”

Quinton sat silent for a moment. Black Feather had undergone as much a moral transformation as a physical one. His cousin was probably the only one that Quinton could remember who was more zealous about Indian pride than he was when they were young.

“But what about self-sufficiency? Not needing the Anglos?”

“Everything has got its price. I chose this one. You chose another.”

“Yes, but at least yours has some benefit. I’ve just been destroying that which I swore to protect.”

Black Feather’s tone was deep and reverential. “Like the elders say, there is always time to balance the scales. Or does it go: Stop whining and just do it?”

Quinton chuckled. “I think that one is Nike’s slogan.”

“Ah, well. Pick whichever one works. But damn it, cousin, lighten up. If you’ve caused harm to this world, right it, but stop moping around.”

Black Feather was right. There was nothing that he had done that he could not make up for. And Quinton planned to start with Regina. He never should have let her leave without him.

“Do you have a cell phone?”

“Does a crow have feathers?” his cousin asked as he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a cell phone. “I take it that this is a local call?”

“Yeah.”

Quinton dialed the number from memory. How quickly he had learned Regina’s number. As the phone rang, Quinton prayed that she was home. He desperately needed to make amends. Quinton needed her to most of all understand how much she meant to him.

* * *

Regina cringed as the phone rang as she entered the house. She did not need Wayne yelling at her to top off her night. Would the damn answering machine not pick up? Walking over to the table, Regina realized that she had forgotten to turn the machine on. Pushing the button quickly, as if it was a snake that was going to bite her, Regina heard the machine pick up the call. She knew that voice better than her own. It was Quinton, begging her to pick up the receiver.

After the wrenching evening, Regina could not face talking to him. She could not stand one more ounce of hurt this night. Turning off the volume on the recorder and clicking off the ringer on the phone, Regina headed toward her bedroom. What she needed right now was some sleep. Hopefully everything would look better in the morning light.

Passing Michael’s room, Regina found Fury curled up asleep on her son’s bed. She almost got past the door without the dog noticing her arrival, but Fury’s head perked up and spun around. Once the dog saw Regina, she leapt off the bed and began her usual welcome frenzy.

Not in the mood for the dog’s antics, Regina ignored Fury and opened her bedroom door. Before she could stop the dog, the Doberman was through the door and onto the bed.

“Get off, Fury!”

Regina knew how Wayne hated dog fur in the bed. He would be furious if the sheets were covered in short, coarse black hair. “Now, Fury!”

The dog feigned deafness and tried to burrow under the pillows. Regina had to grab Fury by the collar and drag her off the bed. Bodily, she had to shove the Doberman back out the door. Fury tried her best to weasel back in. “No, girl. Go to Michael’s room.”

It took a moment and a few accurately placed soccer blocks, but Regina finally got the door shut with Fury on the other side of it. Even more exhausted than she was before, Regina crumpled onto the bed. Every ounce of energy she had was consumed. Regina was burnt out and hollow. She was so wasted by the day’s events that she could not even cry herself to sleep.

CHAPTER 12

Quinton tried to focus on the report that Ralph and he were writing, but Regina occupied his thoughts. He had not gotten a single minute of sleep the night before. Black Feather had dropped him off near the back alley, and Quinton had slipped back into his room without detection, but none of that mattered. The only thing that concerned him was why Regina had not answered his calls. He had been hesitant to leave messages, but if it was the only way to get Regina’s attention, then it was worth the risk.

Blind-sided by a pillow, Quinton was red-faced when he sat back up. “What in the hell was that for?”

“Jesus. Finally, something got your attention. I asked, like a bazillion times about these damn salamanders. Are they really completely separate species or just sub-species?”

“Put them down as two different species.”

Ralph raised an eyebrow. “You sure? That’s kind of a gray area.”

Quinton’s tone was crisp. “I’m sure.”

His assistant only smiled and began typing into his computer. “Cool by me. That means twice as many threatened species of salamanders in Blue Mountain’s backyard.”

Where once the idea of screwing Wayne and his company had thrilled Quinton, now it was a sideshow. Regina occupied center stage. If he could not leave this damn room or make calls from it, how in the hell was he going to see her? Convince her that he truly had changed? That she could trust him?

The sound of the phone ringing in Ralph’s room drifted through the wall. Quinton looked at his assistant, but the younger man did not move. “Going to answer that?”

“Nah. Greta will forward it over here.”

It was Quinton’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Ralph and the office manager were on a first- name basis now? Even in his current state of agitation, Quinton had to be impressed with Ralph’s social skills. The phone beside him rang almost immediately after the other phone stopped. Ralph picked it up and winked at Quinton. “Told ya.” Once on the phone, Ralph barely had time to get a word in edgewise. “Natalie! Whoa. What are you doing calling here?”

Quinton went back to his work, letting the lovers have some privacy until he heard Ralph’s shout. “No friggin’ way! Shit, shit, shit. Thanks, Natalie.”

Slamming down the phone, Ralph ran to the window and checked outside. The younger man’s hands shook as he told Quinton the news. “They’ve got an arrest warrant on you, man. They should be here any minute.”

“Bullshit,” Quinton said not believing his assistant. “All’s they’ve got are suspicions.”

“Not anymore.” Ralph jerked the door open and ran out to the truck. Quinton had to follow him outside if he wanted to hear the younger man’s explanation. “According to Natalie’s source, they found a torn-up shirt of yours at a crime scene.”

“There’s no way.”

“Yes, way. Look…” Ralph began tearing through the boxes in the back of the truck. “That shirt that you stained back in Spokane is missing.”