Книга - A Man of Distinction

A Man of Distinction
Sarah M. Anderson











“You don’t have to love me. But let me see my son. A boy should know his father.”


That was a low blow, one that blew past her anger and went straight for her heartstrings. Who would she be hurting if she fought to keep Bear from Nick? Sure, she could exact some revenge for Nick’s repeated abandonment of her. But in the long run, it was Bear who would suffer. Would she really do that to her son?

Could she really do that to Nick?

As if he could feel that the attention of the adults had shifted away from him, Bear began to get upset. Tanya took a step toward him, but Nick put a hand on her shoulder. “I got him,” he said, a peaceful smile on his face.

Tanya watched as the man of her dreams swooped her son up into a big hug and then grabbed a book and settled down to read him a story. Tears swam across her vision.

She couldn’t keep Bear from Nick. She just couldn’t.

But what would letting Nick back into her life do to her?


Dear Reader,

Welcome back to the Red Creek Lakota Reservation! This time, a new set of challenges faces the Red Creek Lakota. Rosebud Armstrong has hired Nick Longhair to come back to the reservation and lead a case against a natural-gas company that may have polluted the groundwater.

Nick’s a native son of the tribe who went off to law school and never came back. He’s made quite a name—and fortune—for himself as an environmental lawyer. He’s not exactly thrilled about being back home. The reservation is a reminder of the poverty he left behind.

Poverty wasn’t the only thing he left behind. His childhood sweetheart, Tanya Rattling Blanket, is the only bright spot he has to look forward to. The last time he saw her was two years ago. He’s hoping to pick up where he left off, but Tanya has other plans.

Tanya’s changed, in more ways than Nick can imagine. When he meets her baby boy, Nick finds himself wondering if he’ll ever be able to leave the reservation again. Will Nick turn his back on the love of his life—and the family he always wanted—to keep chasing his dreams of wealth and power?

A Man of Distinction is a sexy story of coming home and finding yourself. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Be sure to stop by www.sarahmanderson.com, and join me when I say, long live cowboys!

Sarah




About the Author


Award-winning author SARAH M. ANDERSON may live east of the Mississippi River, but her heart lies out west on the Great Plains. With a lifelong love of horses and two history teachers for parents, she had plenty of encouragement to learn everything she could about the tribes of the Great Plains.

When she started writing, it wasn’t long before her characters found themselves out in South Dakota among the Lakota Sioux. She loves to put people from two different worlds into new situations and see how their backgrounds and cultures take them someplace they never thought they’d go.

When not helping out at school or walking her two rescue dogs, Sarah spends her days having conversations with imaginary cowboys and American Indians, all of which is surprisingly well tolerated by her wonderful husband and son. Readers can find out more about Sarah’s love of cowboys and Indians at www.sarahmanderson.com.




A Man of

Distinction


Sarah M. Anderson








www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To Jason, for being my hero as a father and husband.




One


Nick Longhair got out of his Jaguar, his Italian loafers crunching on the white rock that made up the parking lot at tribal headquarters for the Red Creek Lakota. The building might have had a fresh coat of paint in the past two years, but otherwise, it was as he remembered it. Narrow little windows, low ceilings and an overall depressing vibe.

For the past two years, he’d worked out of a corner office on South Dearborn, one of the priciest blocks in Chicago. Marble floors, custom furnishings and floor-to-ceiling views of Lake Michigan. It had been the height of luxury, and a true measure of how far he’d come.

He looked around his current surroundings. A three-legged dog hopped across the lot a few feet away from him. The other vehicles weren’t Bentleys or Audis or even Mercedes, but rusty pickup trucks and cars with mismatched hoods and plastic sheeting for windows. This wasn’t a measure of how far he’d come. It was a measure of how far he’d fallen.

All he had ever wanted was to get off this rez. He could still remember seeing The Cosby Show on the working TV at a friend’s house and discovering that other folks lived in great big houses where kids had their own rooms, water came out of the sink and lights turned on with the flip of a switch. The shock of realizing that some people had those things—and that those people weren’t always white—had made him look at his childhood with brand-new eyes. The discarded trailer with cardboard patched over the windows and the holes in the roof? Not normal. Having to share a bed with his brother and mom? Not normal. Having to haul buckets of water from the stream and then hope he didn’t get sick drinking it? Not normal. Not even acceptable.

Yeah, it sounded stupid to say that a sitcom had changed his life for the better. But at the age of eight, he’d realized there was a different life off the rez, and he wanted the big house, the fancy cars, the nice clothes. He wanted it all. And he’d spent his entire life earning it.

So being forced to come back to the rez felt worse than any demotion. If he hadn’t been ordered to take this case—and if his future promotions didn’t rest upon a clean victory—he wouldn’t be here. Maybe he should have quit instead of taking this assignment. He didn’t want to feel the stink of poverty on his skin again. It had taken years to clean the poor out of his pores. But he was the best at what he did, and what Nick did was lead lawsuits against energy companies. This was the kind of case he couldn’t walk away from. This was the kind of case that made a person’s career.

Nick shook his head, forcing himself to focus on what he was here to accomplish.

As the youngest junior partner in the history of the law firm of Sutcliffe, Watkins and Monroe, he’d won judgments for clients against BP for the oil spill in the Gulf, coal mines for the toxic runoff they dumped into the groundwater and even nuclear power plants with lax security. In the past five years, he’d gotten very good—and very rich—being environmentally friendly. He’d earned his place at the table.

Then his tribe, the Red Creek Lakota, had hired Sutcliffe, Watkins and Monroe to sue Midwest Energy Company for polluting the Dakota River when they used hydraulic fracturing, or fracking, to drill for natural gas. The tribe claimed the chemicals used in the drilling had seeped into the groundwater and contaminated the Dakota. They wanted Midwest Energy to clean up the water and pay for any health problems that resulted from the pollution. But this kind of case was beyond the scope of general counsel. The tribe’s lawyer, Rosebud Armstrong, had needed someone who specialized in this kind of case. And that someone was Nick.

Nick had been surprised the tribe could afford the Sutcliffe, Watkins and Monroe price tag, but they’d recently built a dam and the funds from the sale of hydro-electricity had actually put the tribe in the black for the first time ever. Of course they’d picked Nick’s firm. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that Rosebud had gone looking for him, but it still irked him. He’d always felt his tribe didn’t want a damn thing to do with him when he was a dirt-poor nobody.

Now that he was a somebody who’d made something of himself, though, the tune had changed. No one had missed him when he’d left—not even Tanya Rattling Blanket, his high school sweetheart. But now that they needed him and his uncanny ability to win in the courtroom, they wanted him to come home. Nick had been informed that the tribal council wanted him to lead the legal battle on-site. It wasn’t enough that he had to work for people who’d rejected him. Now he had to go back and live with them.

Marcus Sutcliffe, the founder of the firm, had never been one to turn down a paying client. In no uncertain terms, Marcus had told Nick to pack his bags. And he did it in such a way that made it clear “no” was not an option. “Those are your people,” Marcus had said, a look of distaste flitting across his face as he waved Nick away. “You handle them.”

The hackles on Nick’s neck still stood up just thinking about Marcus’s dismissive tone. With a wave of his hand, Marcus had reduced Nick to the token Indian. His legal victories, top-notch law degree, his years of experience and dedication to the firm—meaningless, if Nick only earned them in the name of affirmative action. He’d fought for years to be recognized for what he could do, not what he’d been born. Apparently, he still had a long way to go.

The question Nick hadn’t been able to answer was if Rissa Sutcliffe, Marcus’s daughter, felt the same way. Nick didn’t think so. He and Rissa had been dating for almost two years—exclusively dating for the last year. He knew she was attracted to what she called his “tall, dark and very mysterious” appearance, but that had never bothered him until Marcus had thrown “those people” onto the table.

But the fact was, if Nick won this case, he’d be first in line to succeed Marcus when he retired—an event that was only a few years off. So Nick nodded and smiled and acted like he was thrilled to be handling “those” people and their case. Better than giving the case to Jenkins, Nick’s rival in the office.

So Nick wasn’t here for the rez. He was here for his career. The sooner he won this case, the sooner he could get back to Chicago.

Then he took a deep breath, the smell of last night’s rain and the grass surrounding him. No, this wasn’t the Magnificent Mile. But that smell—the scent of wide-open spaces—was something he couldn’t find in Chicago. Last night, he’d sat on his new front porch and done something he hadn’t been able to do in two years. He’d watched the stars.

Maybe some time away from Sutcliffe, Watkins and Monroe would be a good thing. The interoffice sniping had reached new levels of Machiavellian backstabbing—so much so that Nick spent more time fending off sideway attacks from the likes of Jenkins than he did building cases. Some days, he felt less like a lawyer and more like a pawn struggling to be a knight.

If that had been all he’d been dealing with, Nick could have sucked it up and dealt with it. But it wasn’t. For the last few months, Rissa had been buying bridal magazines and discussing an outdoor summer wedding versus a Christmas-themed wedding. Even Marcus had been calling him “son” more and more. On paper, that had been the plan—marry the boss’s daughter and take over the family business. No doubt about it, Nick would have arrived. No one would have been able to take that success away from him.

Nick should have proposed to Rissa before he left to seal the deal. Should have, but didn’t. He had always enjoyed Rissa’s company, but he couldn’t wrap his head around Rissa and the Red Creek Reservation in the same thought. Rissa wasn’t exactly high-maintenance, but she required a certain amount of upkeep—shopping, spas, servants. Nick had enjoyed the hell out of being on the receiving end of that upkeep, but the moment the tribe had barged back into his life, his expensive lifestyle had suddenly felt forced. Almost unreal. Untrue, at the very least. Up until that exact moment, he’d been so certain of his plan, but now … he didn’t know if he loved who Rissa was or the fact that she had been born a Sutcliffe. Which meant he was in real danger of being the world’s biggest living hypocrite.

So he’d taken the job. He’d given Rissa a little talk about how some time apart would be good for them, help them know for sure if they were meant to be together. She’d taken it well enough, he supposed. “So you won’t mind if Jenkins takes me to the Parade of Sails, then,” she had said, her voice needle-sharp and her words just as pointed.

But Nick had already made up his mind. He was a big fan of clean breaks anyway. He’d reassured Rissa that she was free to see whoever she wanted, and when Nick’s case was over, they’d “catch up” and “reevaluate” where their relationship stood. He needed a break from the whole lot of them—Jenkins, Rissa and Marcus. As much as he told himself he was back on the rez involuntarily, a small, hidden part of him was relieved to be here. Even though he was no longer the same man who’d left this rez behind, he still felt more like himself just being here.

The case would probably take a year, maybe two, before all the dust settled. That left him plenty of time to catch up with his family. He could look up Tanya Rattling Blanket for starters. True, he hadn’t seen her in—man, it had to be almost two years—but he knew she was still here. She was one of those idealistic people who was determined to make a difference. She had made her preference for the rez over the real world clear back when they were dating. But if she was here and Nick was here, he didn’t see any reason why they shouldn’t be here together. As he remembered her, Tanya was whip-smart, bitingly funny and the kind of beautiful that most women spent their lives chasing and never catching. Thinking of Tanya was like watching the stars—he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until he’d crossed the South Dakota state line.

In this distracted state, Nick walked into the tribal headquarters.

“Good morning, Mr. Longhair.” At the sound of that voice, Nick tripped over his own foot and came to a stumbling halt. He looked up and saw Tanya sitting behind the front desk, wearing a fake smile and a pale pink blouse. “How are you today?”

For a moment, all Nick could do was stare. He hadn’t seen her since the last time he’d come home to the rez, to celebrate his little brother’s high school graduation. She’d been there, as radiant as he’d ever seen her. They’d done a little celebrating together—one more time, for old time’s sake. Despite the fact that that had been almost two years ago, he suddenly felt as if it had been just last night. He remembered her as beautiful. He hadn’t done her justice. His pulse began to pound. No, he’d been a fool not to realize how much he’d missed her—but now he did. “Tanya? What are you doing here?”

The fakeness of her smile grew more forced. “I’m the receptionist. Would you like some coffee?”

They’d dated all through high school, but their contact since then had been sporadic. Intense. Satisfying—but only when he’d come back to the rez. He’d always been glad to see her, and this time was no different. Except this time, she didn’t seem happy to see him. What—was she mad that he hadn’t called? This wasn’t the 1950s—she could have picked up the phone just as easily. But not calling was a small thing, and Tanya seemed one shade short of furious. They’d lost contact before. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but it felt huge. What were the odds that he’d wind up with coffee thrown in his face—or worse, his lap? Not in his favor. “No, thanks.”

She stared at him for a few more seconds until he thought that smile was going to crack right off her face. “Ms. Armstrong is running late, and Councilwoman Mankiller is on a call. They asked me to show you around.”

When he’d been here, Nick and Tanya had had the most intense, passionate relationship he’d ever been in. In the beginning, especially when they’d started having hot-and-heavy sex, he’d dreamed about taking her with him when he left. But Tanya wasn’t the kind of girl who would blindly follow a boy to the ends of the earth. As much as he’d wanted her to go, she’d wanted him to stay. They’d had huge fights about it, then had the kind of makeup sex that made a man willing to admit that he’d been wrong.

In the end, the sex—and his feelings for her—hadn’t been enough. He’d left. She’d stayed. Those were the choices they both had to live with.

Still, that wasn’t enough to explain the animosity he was picking up on right now. The last time he’d seen her, she’d welcomed him back with open arms—and much more. The sex had been amazing—as passionate as anything he’d experienced with her before. He’d sort of been expecting the same kind of reception—but it was clear he wasn’t going to get it. He hadn’t exactly been burning up the phone lines during the years before he’d last been with her. She couldn’t possibly have expected him to start calling just because they’d spent another night together—could she?

Nick squared his shoulders. He’d gotten very good at pretending he belonged someplace he wasn’t truly welcome. Why should this be any different? “That would be fine, Ms. Rattling Blanket.” He didn’t need a tour—he’d been here before, in high school, when he’d come to talk to Rosebud about law school—but he wasn’t about to stand in the lobby in total awkwardness until hell froze over.

She stood, her eyes cast down. She had on a slim gray skirt that hugged every inch of curves he didn’t remember. She’d filled out—more generous breasts, a sweeter backside. Her hair was pulled away from her face, but it hung loose down her back. She looked good, in the primal sort of way that brought back memories of that last night together. What did those new curves look like? More important, what did they feel like? He had to physically restrain the urge to pull her into his arms. If he tried that right now, odds were good she’d deck him.

“This way.” Without so much as a dirty look for him, she headed down the hall and opened a door on his right. “The conference room.”

Why wasn’t she glad to see him? As she stood with her back to the door, he leaned past her. His lawyer instincts told him to keep a safe, respectable distance from her, but he couldn’t help himself. Her scent swirled around him—something soft and citrus and clean, all at once. Every second he was around her made him miss her that much more. All of a sudden, he found himself wondering how the hell he’d managed to survive the last two years without her smell, her voice, her face in his life. How had he survived without her? “I want to talk to you,” he whispered in her ear.

A ruddy blush sprinted across her cheeks. Maybe he was imagining things, but he swore he felt the heat radiate off her skin. She’d missed him, too. He could tell by the way her pupils dilated and her breathing grew shallow. He knew that look. She’d been looking at him like that for as long as he could remember—usually right before she had begun ripping off his clothes. She could pretend to be all mad at him for leaving the rez behind, but he knew she couldn’t deny the attraction that had bound them together since they were teenagers.

But she was going to try to deny it, that much was clear. She cleared her throat. “As you can see, the table and chairs are new.” Then she shoved her shoulder into him, pushing him away. She shut the door and continued down the hallway. “This is Councilwoman Emily Mankiller’s office.”

This whole treat-Nick-like-a-clueless-outsider thing was starting to irk him, and the fact that she was fighting her obvious desire for him did nothing to improve his mood. “I know who Emily is. She hired me.”

Tanya didn’t even blink. She walked him past all the other council members’ offices, ticking off familiar names, until they reached the end of the hall. “And this is your office.” She swung the door open on a room so tiny that Nick was surprised to see someone had actually managed to wedge a desk into it.

What a hole. His coworkers in Chicago would be horrified. All of his desire ground to a painful halt as he was confronted with the professional embodiment of poverty on the rez. “This is a broom closet.”

“Correction—it was a broom closet. Now it’s the office of the legal counsel of the Red Creek Tribe.” Tanya motioned to the desk, her hand brushing against the wall. “The computer is brand-new, and in theory, it prints to the copier behind my desk.”

“In theory? I don’t even have my own printer?” That was not good. Communal printing wasn’t exactly the way to maintain confidentiality.

She glared at him, which was something of a relief. Better than being ignored. “You don’t like it, you can leave. You’re good at that.”

He shut the door with more force than was required and turned to her. She tried to back away, but the wall didn’t let her get very far. Her gaze darted toward the door. No way in hell he was letting her escape before he got some answers. He put his hands on either side of her shoulders, pinning her in. He wasn’t touching her, but he could smell her. That was bad enough. “We both knew that night was a one-time-only thing. What’s with you? I thought you’d be glad to see me.” He cleared his throat. This close, he could see the way her pulse pounded in her throat. He could feel his own pulse matching hers, beat for beat. They’d always moved in harmony like that. That’s what had always made being with Tanya so good. “I’m glad to see you. I missed you.”

She flinched, but she didn’t back down. “It’s been two years, Nick. You clearly didn’t miss me enough to visit. Not enough for one phone call.”

“What was there to call about? You didn’t want to come with me—you didn’t want the kind of life I could have given you. And there’s no way in hell I was going back to living in a shack on the rez. I thought it was best if we kept things neat and clean.” Although “neat” and “clean” didn’t exactly describe the effect she was having on him at this moment.

She glared at him, and he saw that the passionate feelings she had for him had changed somehow. Before he knew what was happening, Tanya had ducked out of his arms and was out of the tiny office. He faintly heard her say, “Red Creek Tribal Council, how may I help you?” and he realized way too late that he’d talked to her on the phone several times and never figured out that it was her.

Stunned, Nick sat in his new chair and tried to figure out what had just happened. He hadn’t lied—he had missed her. Enough that seeing Tanya—and maybe rekindling their relationship—again had made the list of reasons to take the case and come home. She’d always understood him on a different level than any other woman had. That wasn’t the sort of thing a man forgot.

But the woman answering the phone wasn’t that same girl. Something had happened in the past two years. She didn’t want to understand him any longer. She didn’t even want to try.

The phone on his desk beeped, a loud, insistent noise that bounced around his new closet-sized office like a pinball. Nick jerked his head back. Man, that was going to take some getting used to. “Yes?”

“Ms. Armstrong is here, Mr. Longhair.”

He had to give her this—she was a good receptionist. No trace of the argument she’d been winning lingered in her voice. “I’ll be right out.”

As he walked down the long hall, Nick got his head back in the game. Rosebud Armstrong was the general counsel for the tribe. She was here to get him up to speed on the current litigation status of the tribe. He was a lawyer, damn it. A good one. Youngest junior partner in Sutcliffe, Watkins and Monroe’s history, and the only minority to achieve that accomplishment.

“How’s Bear?” he heard Rosebud say. Curious, he slowed down. Did Tanya have a dog? Maybe she’d become one of those women who carried small dogs around in purses and put them in day care. Rissa had gone through a small-dog phase that still had Nick scratching his head. Some days, it felt like he’d never understand women—and this was shaping up to be one of those days. He wouldn’t have figured the old Tanya for accessorizing with an animal, but then, he wasn’t safe making any guesses about the new Tanya.

“Good. Mom spoils him rotten during the day, but …” Tanya’s voice trailed off in a “what-can-you-do-about-it” kind of way. Sheesh, women and their dogs.

“I understand. How’s the job going?”

The pause was longer this time. “Fine,” Tanya finally said, and Nick could hear the forced smile from around the corner.

“I see.” Rosebud’s voice dropped from “lawyerly” down several notches to “coconspirator.” “My earlier offer stands.”

Offer? What offer? Nick didn’t like the sound of that.

“You know I want to stay here. I’ve already learned so much. But …” her voice trailed off. “I’m going to see how it goes for now, but I might have to take you up on that.”

He liked that even less. They were talking about him, weren’t they? Finally, he wasn’t able to take it anymore. He walked around the corner in what he hoped was a natural, non-eavesdropping kind of way. “Hello, Rosebud. It’s good to see you again.”

“Nick.” She shook his hand and patted his arm, professional and friendly at the same time. He owed Rosebud a great deal. She was the one who’d pushed him to go to law school. More than anything in the world, he’d wanted off this rez. Rosebud had shown him the way to accomplish that. “How are you adjusting? Getting used to home again?”

He knew he shouldn’t look at Tanya, but he did anyway. Just a quick glance, but more than enough for Rosebud to infer a variety of things. Tanya’s attention was focused on her computer. “It’s been a long time,” was all he said.

Rosebud gave him the same look she’d been giving him since she’d written his recommendation letters for law school. That look combined a don’t-screw-this-up scolding with a you-can-do-it sentiment. He hated that look. “A lot’s happened since you left.”

Wasn’t that the freaking understatement of his life. “I saw you all built a huge dam.”

Rosebud laughed in that polite way that said she was going to let him go this time. “You have no idea. Shall we?”

Tanya checked the clock—4:27 p.m. A whole minute had passed since the last time she’d looked. Would this day never end?

She wanted to get the hell out of here before Nick could corner her in the conference room or office again. At least, she needed to not get cornered. She’d be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t felt the pull between them, or if she claimed she didn’t want to feel it again.

She didn’t know if that was because it had been two years since she’d last been with a man or what, but for a crazy second, she’d wanted him to kiss her. Which was strictly off-limits. She could not, under any circumstances, get involved with Nick Longhair again, not even for one night. Not after what happened that last time. And the time before that. After all the previous times, in fact. Only a fool would get involved with Nick Longhair and expect him not to leave her heartbroken. Tanya was no fool. Not anymore, anyway.

Besides, interoffice relationships were frowned upon. She needed this job. Councilwoman Emily Mankiller had hired her when Bear was two months old. Even though Tanya didn’t think Ms. Mankiller would fire her without a good reason, Tanya felt like she had to keep proving herself. This job was the difference between having her own place and living with her mother.

What a mess. For twenty-two long, frustrating months, she’d dreamed of Nick Longhair walking back into her life like a white knight rescuing a damsel in distress. Tanya didn’t know if she was a damsel, but being a single mother struggling to make ends meet provided lots of distress. Now Nick was back, and nothing about it felt like a rescue. Instead, it felt like a threat.

4:28 p.m. She wanted to get Bear, rush home and bolt the door. As much as she had dreamed about Nick coming back and sweeping her off her feet, now that he was here, he scared the hell out of her. What would he do when he found out about Bear?

If Nick found out about Bear, he could want nothing to do with him—or her. He could accuse her of getting pregnant on purpose, like she’d been trying to trap him. He could flatly deny he was Bear’s father. He could cut her out of his life permanently. In some ways, he’d already done that. This time, though, there would be no hope for her to cling to, no bright, shiny fantasy of Nick coming back to her. It would just be the end.

That thought was terrible enough, but Tanya knew it wasn’t the only possible outcome. Nick could decide he’d always wanted to be a father. He’d always talked about kids, back when they were wild-eyed dreamers without two nickels to rub together. Now Nick had all the nickels he had ever wanted. Did he still want kids? Maybe he did, maybe he’d outgrown that dream—just like he’d outgrown Tanya. Tanya knew any fatherly interaction would be on Nick’s terms, and his terms alone. He had already decided that Tanya wasn’t good enough for him—why else would he have bailed on her without a second look? What if he decided that she wasn’t a good-enough mother? If Nick wanted to, he could take her son—their son—away from her. He could run her into the ground in a courtroom and take Bear to Chicago. She’d be lucky if she got to see him once a year. She wanted to think Nick wouldn’t do that to her, but she didn’t know the man he’d become. She wouldn’t put anything past him.

“So that about wraps it up for today.” Rosebud and Nick walked into the lobby, heads down, feet dragging. “When should I plan on coming back in?”

“Give me a week to get up to speed,” Nick said, cranking his neck from one side to the other, “and then I’ll give you a call.”

“Done.” Rosebud stopped and looked at Tanya. Tanya’s heart began to pound. Of course Rosebud had figured out that Nick was Bear’s father—she was the smartest woman on the rez. But most people hadn’t connected those dots. Tanya preferred it that way. Rosebud’s gaze slid back to Nick. “You should come out to dinner some night. My husband has an interesting perspective on fracking. Tanya knows where we live.”

Great. Any less subtle, and Rosebud would be beating Nick over the head with a sledgehammer. “Maybe we’ll do that,” Nick said. “If Tanya’s up for it.”

Up for being alone in a car with Nick for the drive out to Rosebud’s house? Hell, at this exact moment in time, Tanya wasn’t sure she was even up for breathing. Besides, she didn’t even know what “fracking” was. Yes, she’d learned a lot in ten months, but that was general stuff about tribal operations. She wasn’t allowed in on closed-door meetings yet. She was still just the receptionist, but she was working on being the best darned receptionist she could be. It beat the hell out of frying burgers at a fast-food joint an hour off the rez while fighting morning sickness, which was the job she’d held when she’d found out she was pregnant.

“You can let me know,” Rosebud said, letting it drop. “But think about it.”

Rosebud headed out, leaving Nick and Tanya alone in the lobby. For a few moments, neither of them moved. Nick looked out the front doors; Tanya stared at her desk. His head was held high, his shoulders back. Everything about his stance said that he was in control of this—or any other—situation. She’d always loved his ability to take control of any situation, but now it scared her. For her part, she was afraid to do anything but work on that breathing thing. What would Nick do now?

He pivoted on the balls of his feet. “Ms. Rattling Blanket, I’d like a word with you in my office.”

Her heart sank. He knew about Bear, and he was going to demand his rights. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if those rights took the form of Nick realizing what he’d left behind and deciding that, finally, he would stay? But given how fast Nick had hightailed it out of town the last time, she wasn’t going to get her hopes up. He may have come home, but for how long? He’d made his point crystal clear. He was too good for the rez. He was too good for her.

Determined to maintain a level of professionalism, she grabbed a pen and a legal pad. When she made it to his office, the door was open and he was sitting behind his desk. That was a good sign—he wasn’t going to try to trap her again. Not right away at least. “Yes?”

“Sit down.” He didn’t look up from the document he was reading.

Tanya did as she was told. She felt a little like a lamb going willingly to slaughter.

Nick kept reading his paper. Why, oh, why did he have to look so good? It wasn’t fair, she decided. Why couldn’t he have gained forty pounds of beer gut or lost his hair while he was gone? Maybe grown a few warts—anything that would make it easier for Tanya to not miss him.

But no. He seemed taller now, and any weight he’d gained appeared to be pure muscle. His shoulders were broader underneath his crisp white shirt, his sleeves neatly cuffed at the wrists. She’d noticed his pants earlier. They looked expensive—nothing like the frayed jeans he’d always worn before. The light from his computer caught on a huge silver watch around his wrist. He wore those new, expensive clothes like he was born in them.

But the worst of it was that he’d cut his hair. He’d sworn he’d never do that. He was a Longhair. It went with the name. Instead of reaching almost as far down his back as hers did, his thick black hair was closer to his ears and slicked back.

He glanced up and caught her staring. “What?”

“You cut your hair.” Lord, that’s not what she’d wanted to say, but the words just popped out. She’d meant to keep their interactions strictly professional.

One side of his mouth curved up in a smile. Was he flattered that she’d noticed, or was the new-and-improved Nick just vain? “Occupational hazard,” he explained as he ran a hand through his close-cropped mane. “Where do you live now?”

She could not believe the audacity of this man. He’d all but fallen off the face of the planet for almost two years without sparing a single thought to her, but the moment he arrived back on the rez, he expected to pick up where they’d left off? No. Not gonna happen. She had her pride. And a mountain of bills. But she’d rather cut off her own foot than let Nick think she needed his money. She’d already made a mistake with him once. No way she was going to make it again.

So she didn’t answer. Several seconds passed before Nick realized that she wasn’t talking. “Tanya? Did you hear me?”

“I’m sorry.” Strictly professional. No need to get fired for insubordination. Not yet anyway.

A shadow crossed Nick’s eyes. She had his full attention now, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing. “Do you still live with your mother?”

“I’m not sure what this has to do with my job.” Or yours, she wanted to add, but that whole insubordination thing kept her mouth shut—for once.

His eyes narrowed. Combined with the expensive clothes and the new hair, Tanya realized she was sitting across from a complete stranger. “You’re not going to answer my question?”

“Is there something else you need help with? If not, I have to go. Councilwoman Mankiller lets me leave at 4:30.” She’d never needed to get Bear more than she did right now. But no matter what Nick did next, she could claim to have acted with all due respect.

Moving slowly, Nick set the paper aside. He put his hands facedown on the desk and then leaned toward her. Tension rippled between them. She could just catch a whiff of his cologne—something that smelled exotic and expensive. Even though she knew she was in danger of being trapped, she couldn’t pull away. Nick did that to her—drew her in and never gave her the chance to get out. All it had ever taken was for him to give her that half smile as he moved in on her, just like he’d tried to do in the conference room earlier. He must expect that she’d come running at his beck and call, just like she always had. The problem was, when he cornered her earlier, she had still wanted to come running. Just thinking about how close he’d been made her ache with a desire that she’d thought she’d long since buried. She took another deep breath, pulling his scent in deeper. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted out, not with the way his eyes flashed at her. He was like the mountain lion, using his silky brown eyes to hypnotize his prey—her—before he moved in for the kill. Then he said, “I’m going to find out one way or another. I’d feel better if you told me.”

There it was—the very real threat Nick Longhair posed to her life and to her child. One way or the other, he’d get what he wanted. The only difference was whether she got in his way or out of it.

Without rushing, Tanya stood. He might have all the power in this room, but she was going to be damned if she let him take her dignity. “Have a nice evening, Mr. Longhair.”

Someone should have a nice evening. But it wasn’t going to be her.




Two


Nick didn’t show up at Tanya’s little house that night. At work the next day, he walked in at 9:00 a.m. like he owned the place, gave her a heated stare and headed back to his office. He was still in there when she left at 4:30 p.m. He never even asked her for coffee.

She spent another restless night shooting out of bed at the slightest noise to make sure Nick wasn’t prowling around outside. She doubted that he was the sort of fellow who prowled anymore, but once upon a time, before he’d left her the first time to go to college, he’d made a regular habit of tapping on her window at three in the morning and taking her on a joyride in whatever truck he’d “borrowed” across the otherwise-silent rez.

Those middle-of-the-night trips to nowhere had been when they’d talked about their dreams and nightmares. “When I leave this rez, I’m not gonna be a dirt-poor Indian anymore, Tanya. I’m gonna be rich. I’m gonna be somebody,” he’d muse, laying on a blanket, the night air cooling them off after the heated sex. “I’m gonna buy you diamonds and pearls and the biggest house in South Dakota. And our kids—they’re not gonna live like this. Our kids are gonna have the best of everything. Rooms full of toys, new clothes that fit, their own ponies—everything.” The way he’d always said it made it clear that was all the stuff he’d wanted and never got.

She’d loved him for wanting to take care of her. But Tanya had always told him the same thing. “I don’t need all that stuff, Nick, not as long as I’ve got you.”

At the time, it had all seemed like a bunch of wild talk. She hadn’t realized how serious he was. But then, she hadn’t realized how serious she was.

Tanya had left the rez once, too. She’d gone to college at the University of South Dakota in Vermillion, just about two hours from the rez. She’d gotten her B.A. in Native studies with a minor in political science. When she’d first left home, she’d finally understood what Nick had always talked about. Everyone there had a car and an apartment, it seemed, with nice clothes and computers and stereos. The jealousy had been crushing.

That had changed the day she’d walked into her first political science class. She’d signed up because Nick had already been accepted to law school and she’d assumed that knowing more about politics would be a good way to support his career. But instead, the professor—some leftover relic from the 1960s counterculture—had gone on and on about how a single person could take on the political establishment and change things for the better.

Yeah, that guy had fried half his brain on acid trips back in the day, but that didn’t mean his words carried any less weight with Tanya. It had been then that she’d realized she could make life on the rez better—if she didn’t abandon it. She had to stay and change it from the inside. A fact made all the clearer by her time working as a fry cook. Minimum wage at a dead-end job didn’t help her tribe. It didn’t do her any favors either.

So she’d gotten Councilwoman Emily Mankiller to mentor her and had taken the receptionist job at tribal headquarters after Bear was born so she could have a front-row seat for the local political show. Things had changed now that the tribe had money. Tanya knew that Nick was here for a lawsuit against Midwest Energy, but everything was done behind closed doors or in low whispers. It was clear that Tanya wouldn’t be able to be a part of that conversation—not while she was a receptionist anyway. Some days that irritated her, but the posturing and maneuvering wasn’t her strength. Tanya was more concerned with making sure people had enough to eat and heat in the winter. No back-room plotting needed. Even though she was just the receptionist, she could say she was already making a difference. She kept a running tab on who was about to have their power shut off, who’s health was failing too fast and which kids needed another hot meal. Those were small things, but they counted. Sure, she could make a bigger difference if she had an ally who was good at the behind-closed-doors stuff. In fact, Tanya had always hoped that Nick would bring his fancy law degree back to her and the rez. Together, they could change things for the better. Together, they’d be unstoppable.

But Nick hadn’t come back. Until now.

Another noise outside had Tanya up again. 3:15 a.m. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, but at least it was Friday. She looked out the window, half hoping to see the old, carefree Nick out there. That was the Nick she’d loved since the day she’d turned twelve. She could still remember the jolt of electricity that had coursed through her when he’d ridden up to her birthday party bareback on his paint pony—and shirtless. He’d just turned six-teen—so out of her league—but that hadn’t stopped him from sliding off the horse right in front of her, leveling that devastating smile at her and handing her a hand-picked bunch of wildflowers with a “Happy birthday, Tanya,” thrown in for good measure. It had seemed like he was her present, already half-unwrapped. Tanya had fallen and fallen hard. Nothing and no one could ever compare to Nick.

Sure, he had hardly looked at her for a few more years, but by the time she’d turned fourteen, he’d given her her first kiss. By the time she was fifteen, she’d given him everything.

Part of her wanted that life again—where the only cares she had in this world were how she could slip out without waking up her mom to steal a few more hours with Nick. But there was no going back, and there was nothing outside but a full moon. Nick had come back only twice in the past six years—when he graduated from law school and for his brother’s high school graduation. She’d asked him to stay that first time, while the scent of their sex still hung in the air. “Stay with me,” she’d said, and even now she cringed at how pathetic the words had sounded.

“Babe, I have a life now,” had been his reply. He’d said it gently, like he knew he was tearing her heart out with a single swipe. True, he’d told her she could stay with him if she came to Chicago, but it was the kind of halfhearted offer that begged not to be taken up.

No, he had a life now. A life that didn’t include her or their homeland.

She got back into bed and checked on Bear. He was curled into the little baby ball that had his bottom sticking up into the air.

Tanya smiled. She didn’t need Nick’s money or diamonds or houses. She didn’t need any of that stuff, as long as she had her son. She was tied to this land by blood—the blood of her ancestors and the blood of her son. She couldn’t abandon this place because that would be the same as abandoning part of her soul.

She couldn’t leave.

Not even for Nick Longhair.

By the time she got home the next night with Bear in tow, Tanya was beat. Nights like this made her wish that she could afford a television and pizza delivered to her door, because Bear was being clingy and her head hurt and the three hours until Bear’s bedtime seemed like a month.

The whole week, all Nick had done was walk in, give her “the look” and disappear into his office. He didn’t ask for coffee, tell her to make copies or demand to talk to her. Despite her resolution not to fall under his spell again, she still found herself daydreaming about him at least trying to sweep her off her feet. He’d corner her in the conference room, shut the door and press her against the wall. If she closed her eyes, she could actually feel the length of his body against hers—the way they fit together as effortlessly as they always had. He’d kiss her until she couldn’t breathe. Of course she’d rebuff his advances—in her fantasy, she could just walk away from him.

Reality was different. Would it kill him to at least notice her? She couldn’t even be in the same room with him—for however short a time—without being painfully aware of him. As much as she tried to hate him—and heavens knew she tried—she couldn’t shake the hope that somehow, some way, they’d go back to the way things had been. Despite having a child now, a big part of Tanya still felt like the same girl she’d always been—the girl who loved Nick.

But no. Maybe she’d just guessed wrong about him. This new-improved Nick wasn’t the slightest bit interested in the same-old Tanya. Why would he be? She wasn’t model-perfect, rich or anything else like the women he’d probably spent all his free time with back in the big city.

Maybe this was just how it was going to be, she thought as she boiled the water for the mac ‘n’ cheese. They’d just keep pretending like they’d never been in love. She’d keep Bear’s existence quiet. They’d be like sicas, spirits, passing through each other’s lives. It could work.

This way of thinking lasted until she put Bear down at eight. She read him a story, sang him his bedtime song and rubbed his back until his little eyelids closed. Finally, she thought as she shut the door behind her and sagged against it. Exhausted as she was, she needed at least a half hour of peace and quiet before she went to bed. She trudged down the short hallway that separated the bedroom/bathroom half of the house from the kitchen/living room half, turned the corner and let out a scream.

There, sitting on her couch, was Nick Longhair. His tie and jacket were gone and his shirtsleeves were cuffed, but otherwise, he looked exactly like he had when she’d last seen him this morning. Next to him sat a robin’s egg–blue gift bag.

A jumble of thoughts ran through her head. She was positive she’d locked the door. He looked horribly out of place on her ratty couch. Had he noticed the laundry basket of toys on the other side of the room? Damn it, why did he have to look so good? What was in the bag? She felt like hell and probably looked worse. Which all came out as, “What are you doing here?”

He sat there, giving her that same damned look for what felt like an hour. Did he think she would throw herself at him? If so, he had another think coming. “You look good, Tanya.”

Part of her all but vibrated with the compliment. For a delusional second, she wasn’t a schlumpy mom with mac ‘n’ cheese in her hair, but the crazy-in-love girl Nick had wanted. Oh, how she had missed the way he made her feel. She’d missed being that girl.

The other part of her didn’t like where this was going. If he thought he could just waltz into her house and expect her to fall into his arms only to see him waltz right back out of her life for another two years, he could go to hell. She’d even buy him a handbasket. “What do you want, Nick?”

“I brought you a present,” Nick said, sounding completely unconcerned with her rudeness. He stood and handed the bag to her.

She didn’t want to look. Well, she did, but she was afraid that it would be something weird or stupid and that would further grind her fantasy about Nick’s return into the dust. She was also terrified it might be something really nice, but she wasn’t sure why. “It’s nice to see you didn’t forget about the tradition of bringing gifts.”

“I didn’t forget about a lot of things.”

The way he said it—all serious and intent while he looked as if he’d spent two years wandering in the desert and she was a tall, cool glass of water—sent another spike of heat through her body.

She should not let his good looks and generous gifts and intense gazes get to her. He’d not only ignored her for two years, but he’d also ignored her the entire week. She needed to stay strong and make sure she protected herself and her son from the kind of heartbreak that Nick seemed to specialize in. Nick would leave again, as sure as the sun rose and set, and Tanya would have to pick up the pieces. It was bad enough picking up her own pieces. She didn’t want to have Bear shattered, too.

She would not be seduced. Now she just had to keep telling herself that. “Gosh, you could have fooled me. Why are you really here, Nick?”

A shadow flashed over his face, but it was gone as quick as it had come. “I picked it out for you.”

Her hands were shaking, which was irritating. Why was she so nervous about this? In the space of a second, she found herself wishing she was taller, thinner, smarter and more reserved. But she wasn’t. Except for the extra baby weight, she was exactly the same girl she’d always been. And that girl hadn’t been enough for Nick.

She opened the bag. Inside was a huge bag of Skittles and a pink elephant with a big, blue bow around its neck.

Tanya’s throat closed up as her eyes began to water. She tried blinking, but the tears kept forming.

“It was our first real date, remember?” She was startled to hear Nick’s voice so close to her ear. She was even more startled to feel his hands slip around her waist. He’d sneaked up behind her, damn it, and now he was hugging her. That simple touch was enough to break her. His scent surrounded her. She couldn’t escape it. She couldn’t escape her past with Nick, so she didn’t even try. “Our first real date, because I was able to get a truck. I took you to that county fair and bought you Skittles because they were your favorite and won you a pink elephant shooting that water gun.”

As he spoke, he pulled her back against his chest until the heat from his body was searing the flesh on her back and underneath his hands. No, she hadn’t been imagining that he’d added muscle—she could feel the hard planes of his body crushing against her.

Nick pressed his mouth against her ear. “Remember? How we took the long way home and got lost and pulled over on that dirt road?” His lips brushed over her lobe, sending a shiver through her that she couldn’t have stopped if she’d tried. “Remember how bright the stars were? Remember how beautiful you were? I didn’t forget our first time, Tanya. Tell me you didn’t either.”

“No.” That one word was all she was capable of saying. A bag of Skittles and a pink elephant were just enough to bring that night rushing back to her. She remembered being scared and excited and so in love with him.

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. A decade had passed since that night, and there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t give to go get lost down that dirt road with him again.

A whump came from the bedroom. Oh, no. Oh, hell. That was the sound of Bear flopping out of bed. As far as Tanya could tell, Nick didn’t know about the boy. It was up to her to keep it that way.

“What was that?” Nick asked, pulling away from her.

“Nothing.” Tanya spun and threw her arms around his neck, holding him in place. “Let me thank you for the present.” Then, against her every better idea, she kissed him.

It wasn’t supposed to be the kind of kiss that took all of her resolve and smashed it to bits. She was just trying to distract him from the sound of Bear jiggling the doorknob. But it didn’t work that way. Nick folded her back into his arms and just like that, the distance between them was gone and all Tanya could think was that Nick had come back for her. When he held her tighter, heat rushed down her back and pooled lower.

Oh, she needed him, in a primeval, instinctive way that had nothing to do with reason or logic and everything to do with the thrill of Nick’s tongue sweeping into her mouth. God, how she’d missed this feeling of being wanted and needed—of being loved. No one had ever loved her like Nick had, and she knew no one ever would. Was it wrong to want this? Was it really wrong to want him?

As the kiss deepened, she almost forgot why she’d kissed him in the first place. Twenty-two long, sexless months pushed her deeper and deeper into his arms until she shook. But then another thump cut through the desire—the sound of Bear banging his tiny fist against the door because he couldn’t work the knob. Nick jerked his head away. “Is there someone else here?” He let go of her and headed toward the bedroom door.

“No—no one else.” Tanya threw herself in Nick’s path. “Just me.” She plastered what she hoped was a sexy smile on her face in an attempt to hide her panic. “I, uh, wish I had a truck. We could go for another ride somewhere.” Anywhere Bear wasn’t.

Nick’s eyes zeroed in on her as Bear took up a steady pounding rhythm. He took another step forward, forcing Tanya to take another step back. “You’re not alone? Are you living with someone?”

The way he said it, like she’d been cheating on some poor, imaginary guy by kissing Nick, was enough to remind Tanya of all the reasons why she shouldn’t fall back in love with Nick under any circumstances, ever again. He wasn’t here because he loved her or trusted her. He was here because she was convenient. “No.”

Bear was now banging on the door with both fists. Tanya could tell because by now, Nick had her pinned against the door. “You’re lying to me.”

“What, that noise? It’s, uh, nothing.” She scrambled to think of something believable. “A dog. I have a dog. With a big tail. Knocks into stuff all the time. What can you do?” She tried to laugh as she put her hands on Nick’s shoulders. “He, uh, jumps. And sheds. We should leave him alone. Don’t want him to mess up your nice pants after all.”

She tried to push him back, and he let her. Then, at the last second, he pivoted, letting her momentum carry her right past him. He caught her arm to keep her from falling over at the same time he turned the knob and pulled open the bedroom door.

Bear stood there, silent tears running a race down his fat cheeks. He took one look at the strange man who held on to his mommy, opened his mouth to scream and didn’t make a sound.

He never did.

Tanya’s heart sank. The jig was up. It was time to face the music. “Dang it, Nick, you scared him.” Tanya jerked out of Nick’s grasp and scooped up her little boy. “Hush, sweetie.” Which was a pointless thing to say, but she said it anyway.

She held Bear and rubbed his back until he stopped flinging his arms around. His head rested on her shoulder and she could tell he was sucking his thumb. She wasn’t sure if he’d gone back to sleep or not until he reached up and laced his chubby fingers into the end of her braid. He was awake. Scooting around Nick, she went to the fridge and got him a sippy cup of water.

While Bear drank, Tanya watched Nick, who was staring at the boy. His mouth hung open as his eyes took it all in. One thing was clear—he hadn’t known she’d had a baby. He didn’t know she’d had his baby.

Maybe she could still keep it that way?

That was just the desperation talking. Now that Nick knew, he wouldn’t rest until he knew everything. How long would it be before he took Bear away from her? How long would it be until he left her all alone again?

While this irrational fear—at least, fear she hoped was irrational—clogged up her throat, she struggled to keep her face calm and blank. Do not panic, she tried to tell herself. Don’t give it away. “Well?” Because he was going to say something, sooner or later. And she didn’t think she could wait on later anymore. She just wanted to get this over with.

“You have a baby?” Nick’s voice wobbled.

Tanya felt a small thrill of victory that she’d managed to outsmart the smartest man in the tribe—for a little while anyway. “Yes.”

Nick shook his head, like he couldn’t trust his eyes. “He’s not mine, is he?”

The question was a punch to the gut. She couldn’t have imagined a lower insult coming out of his mouth. She’d loved Nick Longhair with every bit of her heart and soul since she was in sixth grade and he’d been a freshman in high school. She’d done everything he’d ever asked of her—even going into debt to go to college so he wouldn’t be ashamed of her. She’d planned on spending the rest of her life with him. Never once had she strayed—and this was how he repaid her devotion. By leaving her all alone and then assuming she’d been stepping out on him.

The whole deep-breathing thing wasn’t working so good. “He’s mine. That’s all you need to know.”

That came out louder than she meant it to, because Bear jerked and started thrashing. Nick fell back a step, like he was afraid of the baby. Men, she thought with a snort.

Nick regained his composure. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Did you come here just to insult my honor and mock my son? Because if that’s the only reason you’re here, you can just take your expensive clothes and your short hair anywhere else but here.” Bear jerked in her arms and began rolling his head against her shoulder. He didn’t like it when she yelled.

Nick looked at her for a nerve-racking second before he stood. Then he was closing the distance between them. He stopped just short of touching her or Bear. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you? Why did you come back?” God, he was driving her mad. He’d always driven her past the point of rational. Why would she have expected that to change?

“Hi, guy. I’m Nick.” He reached over and took one of Bear’s small hands in his. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Bear looked at this strange man for a moment longer before he buried his face back in Tanya’s neck.

“What’s his name?”

“Edward, but everyone calls him Bear.”

“Bear.” He nodded in approval as he placed his hand on the top of Bear’s head and patted. “That’s a good, strong name. It’s nice to meet you, Bear.”

Tanya refused to be pleased that he liked it. She was done pleasing Nick. But she didn’t know what to say next that wouldn’t come out as an accusation or, worse, an insult, so she kept her mouth shut.

A look of peace came over Nick’s face, erasing the hard, lawyerly edge. In that instant, he was the man Tanya had loved with her whole being. He had come back to her—to them. She wanted to love him again. In that instant, she did.

It didn’t last. The peace disappeared and the edges came back, sharper than ever. Nick’s gentle pat suddenly seemed like he was holding on to Bear—with no intent of letting go. “Tell me, Tanya, how old is he?”

Nick would leave again. He would always leave. But she knew that this time, he wouldn’t go alone.

He would take her son.




Three


Nick leaned against the doorway to the bedroom, his gaze fastened on Tanya. God help him, she was a born mother. The way she held that little boy while she sang him an old song about mockingbirds pulled at Nick’s heart in a way that was strange and discomforting. Her voice hung on to each note in the song, filling the room with her quiet power. Somehow, she was even sexier now than before. Maybe it was just those curves, but that wasn’t enough to explain the almost-magnetic attraction he had felt this whole week. That was why he’d kept his distance at work. And with good reason. Right now, he was having trouble keeping his hands off her.

Nick counted backward for the twentieth time that night. He’d come home for his brother Jared’s high school graduation two years ago. No, he remembered—not exactly two years. Twenty-two months. Tanya had been at the party. It had been the first time he’d seen her for almost two years, but she’d been irresistible. He’d assumed she’d moved on while he’d been away, but she’d only had eyes for him.

They’d left the party separately, but he couldn’t get her off his mind. Just like the old days, he’d tapped on her window in the middle of the night. That night had been some of the most intense sex he’d ever had, before or after. No one compared to Tanya. It was just that simple.

That night had been twenty-two months ago.

How old was that baby? Based on his size, Bear couldn’t be much more than eight or nine months old. Not that Nick was an expert in children, but even he knew that smaller meant younger and bigger meant older.

However, that basic fact didn’t mesh well with the fact that the child had gotten out of bed, tried to open a door and settled for banging on it. Again, he was no expert, but Nick was pretty sure that babies didn’t start walking or opening doors until they were a year old, give or take. Nine months of pregnancy plus a thirteen-month-old baby would put Nick firmly into the potential-father category. Nine months of pregnancy plus an eight-month-old baby would rule him out.

How had the fact that Tanya had a baby gotten past him? Even as he asked himself that question, Nick knew the answer.

He didn’t talk to people on the rez anymore. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t talked to anyone but his mother, and she only called every few months to demand money. Being made the youngest junior partner in the history of Sutcliffe, Watkins and Monroe, one of the most prestigious law firms in Chicago, failed to impress Mom. His perfect record in the courtroom was meaningless to her. She could care less that he was the first minority to achieve that accomplishment. All she cared about was how much money he had, and how much she could get him to send her.

Now that he thought about it, Nick did remember getting a couple of messages from Tanya. At the time, he’d assumed she was just having a hard time letting go and moving on. He’d justified not returning her calls as a clean break—for both of them.

Of course, if the break had been that clean, would he be standing here in her little house now? He doubted it.

Had she been calling to tell him about the baby? Or had his mother been telling everyone how he was rolling in dough, and Tanya had merely decided to get her cut?

If the boy was his, then Tanya wouldn’t have let a few misplaced messages keep her from telling him. She would have called and kept calling. She wouldn’t have left him out—that wasn’t the girl he’d known.

But then, neither was the Tanya who was out for money. She’d never cared about wealth—she’d told him so hundreds of times, back when they were dirt-poor Indians dreaming big. And if she was after the money, wouldn’t she have thrown that baby in his face the moment he’d set foot back on this rez, demanding child support? She hadn’t. She hadn’t said a word. Nothing about her actions reminded him of the girl he used to know.

But then, the woman in front of him wasn’t that girl either. Beyond the appearance of luscious, womanly curves—curves that took every noble intention of his and blew it to hell and back—Tanya didn’t look at him with the same adoration—the same, well, devotion. More than anything, she seemed pissed that he was here.

Nick looked around the tiny house. As houses on the rez went, it was quite nice. The windows were intact, the electricity was hooked up and the plumbing featured running water. The house was a hell of a lot nicer than the trailer he’d grown up in. By that lousy standard, she was doing well for herself. She didn’t need his money. Not desperately anyway.

But compared to the penthouse apartment he’d left behind in Chicago, this place was a dump. No other way to describe it. The house was smaller than his bathroom had been, with just an open kitchen/living room combo—he couldn’t use the term “great” room because it was anything but great—and a single bedroom. With no crib.

He flicked a piece of peeling paint off the doorframe and hoped to hell it wasn’t lead paint. Tanya wasn’t his. Maybe the kid wasn’t his. But he’d cared for her once, and it hurt to see her living in a hellhole like this. Grinding poverty made him defensive.

Tanya turned a slow circle as she rocked that baby to sleep. Her dark eyes flicked over him with brutal efficiency, as if he didn’t live up to her standards. Nick had had enough of that crap in law school. The only standards he lived up to were his own.

Tanya continued to turn until the face of that boy—Bear, Nick corrected himself—was in view. His little eyes were at half-mast, with one thumb in his mouth and the other hand buried in the end of Tanya’s braid. He was cute, as far as babies went. His round face looked so much like Tanya’s, but Nick couldn’t see any of himself in the boy.

Something was wrong with that kid. Wasn’t hard to see that, or to notice Tanya’s hyperdefensiveness. The boy hadn’t whimpered, much less screamed, since Nick had opened that door. Sure, he’d opened his mouth, but no single noise had escaped his body. The only sound had been his banging on the door. That wasn’t natural, Nick knew, and it bothered him. If Bear was going to grow up to be a Lakota man, he had to have a voice. A man needed to be able to make himself heard.

He’d always liked the concept of kids. In the back of his mind, he’d always planned on having a few—three, at least—and having the perfect family life. For a long time, he’d envisioned Tanya beside him at the Thanksgiving table or snuggled up to him as the kids opened present after present on Christmas morning. Just like the Cosbys, only Lakota. True, his life in Chicago had put those plans so far on the back burner that they almost fell off, and he was sure Tanya wasn’t open to the idea. The problem was, none of the women he’d dated in Chicago were the least bit interested in having a big family. But he kept telling himself that as soon as he made partner, he’d slow down and settle in.

Nick knew that he would be a good father—the kind of man who went to his kid’s T-ball games and helped with science fair projects. All the stuff he’d missed out on as a kid. Nick’s own father had been long gone for years. True, Nick had turned out okay—thanks to Bill Cosby—but his little brother Jared hadn’t. Mom said he was getting clean in prison. Jared wasn’t the only member of the tribe who’d gone down that path. Nick knew it would break Tanya’s heart if the same thing happened to Bear. The boy needed a father.

Assuming, of course, Nick was the father. And if he wasn’t, where was the guy? Why wasn’t he here helping out? What kind of jerk knocked up a sweet, smart girl like Tanya Rattling Blanket and then left her high and dry?

The tightness that hit him midchest was as hard as any punch. Love at first sight, part of his brain noted, categorizing this new feeling and comparing it against all previous emotions. He’d never fallen in love at first sight. Lust, sure. He was a man after all. But this was different. He had no idea if Bear was his son or not—probably not—but all the same, he knew he loved the little guy.

Tanya eased off the bed and gave her son one last look before she turned to where Nick was standing. However, she didn’t meet his gaze as she tried to slide past him.

Nick wasn’t having any of that. He took hold of her arm and leaned down to whisper, “What’s wrong with him?” in her ear. The smell of her—now he could tell it was soft baby powder underneath lemons—hit him in the nose and collided with that tight-chest feeling until he was dizzy.

She jerked her head back enough to glare at him, but he saw past the pissed and noted how her lower lip had the slightest of trembles. He wanted nothing more than to kiss that lip until the rest of her was trembling in his arms, but he didn’t. That wasn’t why he’d come here. Although he was having a little trouble remembering his original motives at this exact moment in time.





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