Realm of the Wolf Book I: Wolf Dance (12 page)

taking me with her." He again lapsed into thick silence. He

was seeing those long ago days somewhere in his mind's eye.

"When I was twelve years old, my mother was in a fatal

accident, and that's when

I came back here to live with my father," he added.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." Laura

instinctively reached out to touch his arm, but withdrew at

the last moment.

He smiled at her momentary lack of restraint. "Oh, they

are not really so bad. This is where I belong ... not in the city

where my mother had taken me."

Justin pointed down the hill toward Beaver Creek. "When I

was a boy, I spent many days down there at that creek.

Some of the best rainbow trout in the world are in that

water."

"You don't strike me as a fisherman."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I used to go fishing all the

time, but I don't really have the spirit for it anymore."

The two of them had begun to walk in the direction of the

creek—crossing a large open meadow before reaching the

tree line, and the creek beyond.

"In the fall ... if you wake early enough, you can see this

meadow full of deer, sometimes elk, too." As they walked,

Justin slipped his hand through hers. "I have spent entire

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mornings watching them from the window." It was apparent

that he loved his simple home.

Laura smiled. "This place is very beautiful. I can't imagine

why your mother would have wanted to leave."

Her words were spoken in innocence, but the affect on him

was no less profound.

Justin stiffened and looked away from her.

The pain in his eyes when he turned to face her tore at her

insides. "My mother was very unhappy here. She didn't fit in

well, and my father could not bear to part with his home."

"Your mother was not
Sungmanitu
?" Laura was surprised.

Justin shook his head. "She was
Oglala
Sioux. They met

during a rally in the Black Hills. He brought her back here to

live after their whirlwind romance."

They had reached the bank of the large creek. Justin

lowered himself into a sitting position, bringing his knees up

to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. In that

moment he reminded Laura of a vulnerable child.

"It really sounds kind of romantic," Laura mused.

His laugh was cynical. "If that was romance, then you can

be sure that it brought them both a lot of misery because

they didn't have sense enough to know that they didn't

belong together."

Laura shook her head. "I'm a believer that love can bridge

all gaps."

Justin had taken to chewing on a twig. "Well obviously not

all of them," he smirked.

"It must have been very tragic for you." Laura softened

her voice, sensing the pain deep within him.

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His face was a mask, empty of emotion. "Not everyone has

a storybook childhood."

Laura's face grew sour as she remembered her own, not-

so-perfect childhood. "I'm very well aware of that."

His eyes held questions that he wouldn't bring himself to

ask.

"Both my parents were killed when I was very young. I

grew up with my grandfather on the Navajo Reservation. He's

a dear old man, but life there isn't easy, to say the least."

"So you have the blood of the people in you?"

"Yes ... I'm half Navajo. My mother fell under the evil

influence of a
Belagana
, to quote my grandfather." They

laughed together.

Justin stood and held out his hand to Laura. She let him

help her to her feet, and didn't resist when he pulled her into

his arms. They stood so close that she could feel the hardness

of his body. Though she fought it fiercely, her body

responded.

Justin ran his fingers through her hair, savoring its

softness.

Another second—that's all it would have taken for him to

claim her lips, for his tongue to sample the sweetness of her

mouth. The moment was stolen from them by the sound of a

snapping twig.

A man emerged from the shadows of the trees, and for the

briefest instant, Laura was numbed with terror. The shadows

had created the illusion that he was half-man and half-wolf.

His long hooked nose, the snout—his blanket became his pelt.

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She now saw that he was just an old man, much like her

grandfather. Laura laughed at her own foolishness.

Justin didn't seem at all surprised by the man's

appearance. "Hello, Uncle." He nodded to the old man.

The man spoke to Justin in a language that Laura had

never heard before, but she thought it sounded very similar

to the Lakota dialect.

Justin turned to Laura. "This is my Uncle Arch." He

introduced the older man.

Arch's smile was nearly toothless.

"Hello." Laura acknowledged him.

"I was told you were like a wildflower in spring, but he lied,

you are even more beautiful."

Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she felt a little

overwhelmed. Never before had she received a compliment

with quite so much flair. "Thank you," she stammered.

The old man motioned to Justin. "My nephew has told me

much about you."

Laura glanced at Justin in astonishment. Had he actually

thought enough about her to talk of her to his family?

"My uncle has suggested that I invite you to our festival

tomorrow night. It's the night we celebrate the Wolf Dance, or

as the old ones call it—the Dance of Wolves. I think you

would find it interesting."

Laura didn't recall a dance by this name, but she reminded

herself of the fact that she really knew nothing of the

Sungmanitu
culture.

"I think I'd like that very much. Thank you for asking."

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Strangely enough, Justin seemed troubled by her

acceptance of his invitation. This man seemed to be a mass of

contradictions. His deep desire for her was apparent, but at

the same time—he appeared determined to keep her on the

outskirts of his life, and heart.

Laura felt sure that his aloofness must have something to

do with what happened to his parents. He was making sure it

never happened to him.

After Laura bid his uncle goodbye, Justin walked her back

to her truck. Thanking him once again, she left.

That night, Justin's mysterious eyes invaded her dreams—

calling out to her with a hunger that she could not begin to

understand.

* * * *

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Laura was surprised to see the sheriff's car sitting outside

her cabin. Moss was out of the car even before she had a

chance to turn off the engine. He stood next to the Bronco,

waiting for Laura to join him.

"Miss Ellison ... I was beginning to think that you might

have disappeared on us too."

"I'm sorry if you had to wait long. I was up at Beaver

Creek."

He gave her a strange look. "Those people are not real

open to outsiders. I'm surprised they would even talk to you

... considering what company you represent and all."

Laura shrugged her shoulders. Some sixth sense warned

her to hold her tongue where it concerned her relationship

with Justin.

"What can I do for you, sheriff?" Laura asked as she

unlocked her front door. Moss followed her in.

"We found your missing man this morning," he informed

her.

The darkness inside made it necessary for her to turn on a

lamp. "Where did you find him?"

"In a pond, near where you found his briefcase. His body

was discovered by a fisherman visiting from Montana."

Laura froze. This didn't sound good at all.

"The body had been half-eaten by some kind of animal,

but we won't know the exact cause of death until we get the

coroner's report."

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Laura shook her head, as if it might help to clear away

some of her confusion. "What's going on?"

"I don't know, but after finding that body we decided to

drag the pond. We found another body and it turned out to be

another of your missing employees."

Laura felt her knees grow weak and she lowered herself to

a chair. To think that she had gone swimming in that very

same water—she was sickened.

"Who could have done this?"

"As I have told you before, I have a hunch that someone in

Beaver Creek is responsible for this. It just seems funny to

me that most of the locals around here are terrified of those

Indians—though they have never been anything but peaceful.

At least that's what's in the official records.

"We also have to consider the fact that so far, it has only

been Duccini people that have become victims," he added.

"But ... I have met a couple of them, and they seem like

normal, levelheaded people. Of course, there is some friction

due to the cutting, but nothing that you wouldn't expect,"

Laura defended them.

"To tell you the truth Miss Ellison, I think it would be best

if you stayed away from Beaver Creek all together ... at least

until we find out who's behind this."

Laura almost mentioned to him that she had been invited

to Beaver Creek tomorrow night, but thought better of it. "I

was just going to fix me a bite to eat. Would you like to join

me?"

He nodded and followed her into the kitchen. They made

small talk while she put together a hasty dinner of cold cuts

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and iced tea. Laura wasn't comfortable with the sheriff's

presence at the moment, but it was the way of her people to

always offer refreshments to visitors.

Mustering enough courage, Laura put voice to something

that had been nagging at her. "Are there any suspects, or is it

just Beaver Creek in general?"

Their eyes met, and in his eyes she could see the hard

glint of determination. "Yes and no. I think their new chief

has a lot to do with this. I've had to lock him up a few times

for fighting in town, and I can tell you this ... he is one vicious

Indian. But we have no hard evidence against him ... yet."

"When I checked, there didn't seem to be a new chief,"

Laura told him.

He shook his head. "No, with these people—when a chief

dies the son automatically takes his place. If he declines ...

they would elect a new one. So even if old Gray Eagle isn't

officially dead, Justin would be the new chief, even if it were

just temporarily."

Laura was stricken, her faced drained of color. All this time

she had been talking to the new chief, and he had not seen fit

to let her know this. Was she that unimportant, or was he

indeed hiding something as the sheriff suspected?

Moss eyed her curiously. "Are you all right?"

Laura forced herself to act normally. "Yes, it's just a little

frightening to think we have a murderer running loose, but

didn't you say it could have been an animal?"

He rose to leave: "Yes, it could have been, but I doubt an

animal would hide the body in the pond. Like I said ... just be

careful and trust no one. You might even ask your boss about

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staying at the office instead of all the way out here by

yourself."

"That is a thought," she told him as they were walking to

the door.

"Thank you for supper. It was really good."

"You're welcome." She offered her hand and he brought it

to his lips kissing it lightly.

Laura forced a smile. "Goodbye, Sheriff. Please let us know

if anything comes up."

"Will do, and you take care of yourself," he told her before

turning away. Laura closed the door and rested her head

against the cold, hard wood. She shut her eyes hoping to still

the pounding in her temples. Dread crawled over her when

she thought of the rapidly descending darkness.

Paul Moss fumbled with his car keys, his thoughts full of

images of Laura lying beneath him. The others wanted her

though, and they would never allow him to touch her. But

maybe he could find a way to have some fun with her before

delivering Laura into their hands.

He was to receive payment on delivery. They were paying

more than enough money, but he would be long gone before

they could find out he had sullied their goods. Paul could well

imagine the feel of her satiny skin as she squirmed beneath

him.

The Sheriff became so caught up in his fantasies that he

soon found it necessary to shift positions, his arousal causing

his jeans to fit much too tightly. Easing his cruiser past