“It wasn’t your fault.

“Whoever did this is scum,” Sundance insisted. “Help me catch him before he hurts someone else.”

“I don’t remember,” Iris whispered, shaking her head in a pathetic, scared little rabbit motion that tore at his heart. “I don’t think I want to remember. What if he’s someone I know? What if he’s watching me all the time, waiting to do it again?”

“That’s not going to happen,” he said, fighting to keep the growl from his voice. “We’re going to catch him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that I won’t stop until I do.”

Seeing her so broken, so torn apart mentally, awakened a grizzly bear of rage that made him want to go on a rampage. But he couldn’t do that, not when he needed to keep a calm head in order to catch whoever did this.

“He’s out there. Every time I close my eyes he’s there, watching me. Waiting.”

“I’m here.” No one was going to touch her. He’d make sure of it. He felt pressure against his bicep as she tentatively laid her head against him. “No one is going to touch you.”

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Dear Reader,

Some stories are difficult to write, but the characters burst from your imagination and demand every resource you’ve got because their story is so important. This is what happened with Iris and Sundance. Set on an Indian reservation in Washington State, this story called to my natural Native American heritage. The research was daunting at times, but the end result was wholly gratifying. I hope Iris’s courage and Sundance’s strength buoy you during their tumultuous and, at times, dark journey toward love.

This is the first in my Native Country series. Next up, Mya Jonson and Angelo Tucker, another couple who had an important story to tell and one likely to tug at your heart.

Hearing from readers is a special joy. Please feel free to drop me a line via email through my website at www.kimberlyvanmeter.com or through snail mail at Kimberly Van Meter, P.O. BOX 2210, Oakdale, CA 95361.

Kimberly Van Meter

Sworn to Protect
Kimberly Van Meter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KIMBERLY VAN METER

wrote her first book at sixteen and finally achieved publication in December 2006. She writes for Harlequin Superromance and Harlequin Romantic Suspense.

She and her husband of seventeen years have three children, three cats and always a houseful of friends, family and fun.

There’s a special pride felt by those who share Native

blood. This is dedicated to the scores of people who

honor their Native American ancestry by refusing to

forget who they are and where they come from.

To my great grandmother Ella “Tootsie” Rhoan for

trying to teach me our Native language when I was

young and for coming to my fourth grade class to

show us how to make acorn meal. I was too young to

appreciate what a gift you were giving.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

Chapter 1

A parade of pain marched across Iris Beaudoin’s body as she slowly opened her eyes and squinted against the harsh white light. Her best friend, Dr. Mya Jonson, was staring down at her, an expression of fear and worry warring with her need to fix what had been broken.

“Wh-ere am I?” she managed to croak. Her clothes were gone and she was wearing a hospital gown, which meant she was at the urgent care facility, Healthy Living, where she worked with Mya. “M-Mya? What happened?”

“I don’t know, honey, but you were found alongside the road before the Pititchu Bridge. You’ve been beaten pretty bad,” Mya answered, gingerly clutching Iris’s hand. “Do you remember anything?”

Iris swallowed and closed her eyes against the pain radiating from every pore of her body. “Hurts,” she whispered. “I can’t think…”

“Okay, honey, don’t worry. We’re going to get you fixed up and then we’re going to find out who did this to you.”

Iris nodded in a faint movement but even that small action cost her. Mya rubbed her hand and gave it a light squeeze, then said, “I have to do an SAE,” she said, her voice breaking.

SAE…Iris was a nurse and she knew what that meant. Sexual Assault Exam. A tear leaked down her cheek and she nodded again. “Okay,” she whispered.

“I’m so sorry, but we have to know,” Mya said. “I’ll make it quick. I promise.”

Iris squeezed her eyes shut and allowed her knees to part even as she fought the shuddering cries that felt trapped in her chest. Someone had assaulted her, that much was apparent, but her brain was fuzzy in the details.

She remembered…being at the bar…dancing…karaoke…and then nothing.

Iris winced as Mya swabbed her insides, quickly, efficiently, yet still Iris wanted to scream at the violation.

Finished, Mya packaged the wet mount for DNA testing and then made quick work of the pelvic exam. Iris was thankful for her friend’s sensitivity but she was nearing hysteria. The blank spots in her memory were frightening her as much as the realization that someone had done this to her.

“We had to take your clothes for evidence,” Mya said in apology. “But I don’t think you’re going to want them back anyway, honey, because they’re pretty messed up.”

“S’ok,” she mumbled, knowing her clothes were the least of her problems at the moment. She watched her best friend fight for composure and waited for Mya to tell her. But she was stalling, bringing a blanket to lay it over her, fussing over her comfort when nothing would’ve made a difference.

She met her friend’s brokenhearted eyes. “The SAE…it showed I was raped.” It was a statement, not a question, and the realization sank into her slowly awakening consciousness like a brick to the bottom of a lake. She’d been raped.

Mya drew a halting breath as she jerked a nod. “There were serious abrasions…consistent with forcible…” She swallowed and a tear escaped Mya’s control. She wiped it away quickly but another followed. “Oh, Iris…”

Iris lifted her chin but it trembled. What was there to say? Both turned at the discreet knock at the door. Sundance Jonson, Mya’s brother and the tribal police officer, walked in, presumably to take her statement. She turned her head, groaning. Not Sundance. She couldn’t let him see her this way. “Not you,” she said, wanting to curl on her side but the pain prevented it. “Someone else.”

“Iris, Sundance is the only officer on the rez, you know that. He’s here to help.”

“Not him,” she whispered, covering her face with her hands. “Go away.”

“Iris…” Mya tried again, her tone distressed, but Iris didn’t want to hear it. She wanted to get off that bed and run, and if she couldn’t run, she wanted to crawl. Iris felt herself folding in, anything to avoid telling Sundance what had happened to her, or rather, what she didn’t know had happened.

Iris and Sundance had history—not romantic—but rather childhood history. Iris and Mya were best friends their entire lives, and so she’d known Sundance, as well. But they’d never been friends. And he’d never seen her as anything more than his little sister’s troublesome sidekick. That would’ve been fine, if she hadn’t awoken one morning with a completely different feeling about Sundance than she’d had before. Suddenly, she saw the man, not the overbearing, control freak that she’d always seen before.

She’d gone to the bar in an attempt to get Sundance off her mind. She didn’t want to see Sundance as anything other than the annoying big brother of her best friend who lived to antagonize her. The fact that she’d begun to see him as a man had disconcerted her to the point of irrationality.

A sob remained trapped in her throat. How had this happened? Her whole life had been tipped on end and it felt as though everything she held dear had fallen to shatter on the floor. How could she bear to look at herself in the mirror ever again? How could anyone else see anything aside from what had happened to her?

“Iris…” The softness of his voice nearly undid her completely. “Tell me who did this so I can bring them to justice,” he urged.

“I don’t know who did this,” she answered, wiping at the tear slipping down her cheek. “I don’t remember.”

“Did you check for drugs?” he murmured to Mya.

“Yes, we’ll do a tox screen with the blood and urine samples but they won’t be ready right away,” Mya answered. “We’ll screen for every known date rape drug. Ketamine, GHB, Rohypnol…if there’s anything in her system we’ll find it.”

Iris closed her eyes, wishing she could block out their voices as they discussed her case. She knew both Mya and Sundance were doing their jobs but she couldn’t handle the routine just yet. “Please go away,” she whispered, meaning both of them. She turned to meet Mya’s questioning gaze. “I just want to be alone for a minute.”

Mya nodded but the worry remained stationed in her eyes. “Okay, honey. Just a few minutes, though. I need to scrape underneath your fingernails still.”

“Right,” Iris managed, but her vision blurred as more tears followed. Then Mya hustled Sundance from the room to give her the privacy she’d asked for.

Her body ached and throbbed while her numbed brain wrestled with one question: Why?

Sundance struggled to remain impartial, to stay cool but inside a white-hot poker of rage punctured his good intentions. “Is she going to be all right?” he asked, his jaw grinding on the words.

“I think so,” Mya answered, wrapping her arms around herself. “What kind of monster does this?” she demanded in a harsh whisper so that her voice didn’t carry to Iris in the trauma room. “There’s not a piece of skin that doesn’t carry some kind of mark. It’s a miracle she’s alive, and honestly, I think that’s what this devil had in mind. When I think of how close she came to…” Mya shuddered. “I just get sick to my stomach.”

Sundance understood his sister’s anguish. Seeing Iris—a woman he’d known his entire life and had most often found irritating, infuriating and intrusive—all tore up caused something inside him to roar like a wounded bear, swiping and snarling at anyone with the misfortune to get too close. And the reaction shocked him.

“I’m going to have to question her,” he said, still processing his own reaction to the situation, trying to put it into perspective. Of course, he was bothered. It was his job to safeguard the tribe, to be the one to protect the people. To think there was someone on the reservation who could do this to one of their own… Sundance didn’t want to believe it. An outsider had to have done this. And he was going to find whoever it was and show him a little justice—American-Indian style.

Mya hesitated, something plainly causing her to temper her tongue, and he furrowed his brow at her expression. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that you and Iris…you haven’t always had the best track record with each other. I don’t know that she’ll open up to you. Maybe I could ask the questions for you.”

“No, I have to ask them. I’m sorry but that’s procedure.” He understood Mya’s motivation and he didn’t fault her for it. His sister had a loving and protective heart, just one of the many reasons he thought the world of her. But he had a job to do. He met Mya’s eyes and gave her the most heartfelt assurance he could offer as he promised to be gentle. “I know we’ve had our differences, but I won’t let that get in the way of doing anything and everything I can to find whoever did this. I promise.”

Mya searched his gaze and found truth. She exhaled and nodded. “I know you’ll do your best for Iris. I trust in you, my brother.”

Sundance gave his sister a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder and then returned to the room where Iris remained curled in as close to a fetal position as her injuries would allow.

Again that swell of rage welled inside him and he had to force it down. “Iris…”

“Sundance, please, just go away,” she pleaded with him, eliciting a wince on his part for Iris had never, in her life, pleaded with anyone. She barreled, she cajoled, she went so far as to manipulate but she never begged. But she was doing it now, with him, and it nearly broke the grip he had on the gates holding everything in check.

“You know I can’t do that. I can’t catch who did this unless you help me.”

When she realized he wasn’t going anywhere she played with the swollen tissue on her bottom lip and stared at the floor. When she finally answered, it was without any emotion. “I don’t know anything. I told you, I can’t remember.”

“Okay, let’s start from what you do remember,” he suggested softly, but she only squeezed her eyes shut and sealed her lips. “C’mon, let’s start from the beginning of the night. You remember that, right?”

“Yes,” she answered, an edge returning to her voice. “But what does that matter? Remembering what I wore and what song I sang for karaoke isn’t going to tell me who managed to drag me from a bar full of people to some secluded place where the guy raped and beat me. So just go away, Sundance. I don’t…want to talk about this anymore.”

That last part came out as a choked whisper and his hands tightened around his pen as she plainly locked him out for reasons he couldn’t really fathom.

“Forget our troubles from the past, Iris. All I want to do is help you. We can do this together.” He tried again, coming at her from a different angle, but she wouldn’t have any of it. Her silence was answer enough.

He swallowed a frustrated breath, not wanting to push, but needing to anyway. He felt rather than saw Mya hovering at the doorway and turned to find her standing there. “I’ll come back tomorrow, Iris,” he told her, giving her fair warning. As he passed Mya in the doorway, he murmured, “Try talking some sense into her, please. Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

Mya nodded but her expression was bleak. “I’ll do what I can…she’s so hurt, Sonny. I’ve never seen her so—”

“I know,” he acknowledged grimly. “Me neither.”

Iris may not want his help but she was going to get it anyway.

Someone was going down for what they’d done.

That was a promise.

Chapter 2

Sundance strode into the Healthy Living urgent care facility and went straight to the reception desk. Betty Whitefeather, the ancient front desk receptionist, waved him through and he entered the side door, heading for Mya’s private office. He was in luck, she was sitting there, scribbling some patient notes. When she saw him standing in the doorway, she closed the file and looked at him expectantly. “What’s up?” she asked.

“Has she been in?” he asked, cutting straight to the point. Mya’s fallen expression was all the answer he needed. “She can’t hide in her house for the rest of her life. Someone needs to get her to start living again.”

Mya shifted into protective mode. “It’s only been a few weeks. Cut her some slack. Have any leads surfaced on the case?”

“No,” he admitted grimly, chewing his lip. And he’d given more resources to Iris’s assault than any other case currently on his desk. “Forensics are a slow process. But something is bound to turn up.”

“I hope so,” Mya murmured, but Sundance could tell she was doubtful they’d ever catch the man who’d brutalized Iris. Although she was defensive of her best friend, she said, “I am worried about her. She’s…” Mya hesitated, caught between sharing too much and helping her friend. “She’s not dealing well with everything. I can’t get her to leave the house at all.”

There was something Mya wasn’t saying. Sundance could tell by the way she refused to meet his stare that there was more. Sundance knew he had to see Iris, even if under the guise of investigative work.

“I’m going out there,” he announced, knowing Mya’s reaction would be negative. He wasn’t disappointed. When his sister started to shake her head, saying it wasn’t a good idea, he shut her down firmly. “I need to see if she remembers anything now that some time has passed since the initial shock, and she’s not picking up her phone.”

“She doesn’t want visitors,” Mya said. “She’s not up to it yet. And I don’t think you badgering her about the case is going to help matters. She needs to do this in her own time.”

His tone gentled. “I’m not going to push her too hard. But if too much time passes, we might lose the opportunity to dredge up what she can remember. I want to catch this guy before he does it to someone else. Iris is a fighter. She’s going to get through this,” he promised with true conviction. He’d never known a more stubborn woman than Iris Beaudoin and he couldn’t imagine her allowing anything to take her down for long.

Although Mya nodded, worry still shone in her eyes. “She’s not the same, Sonny. I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. She wiped at the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. Sundance hated to see his sister cry. He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and she seemed to take comfort in the knowledge that he was there for her. She straightened and nodded, ready to put her faith in him to fix things. “Maybe you can do what I can’t seem to manage. But remember, she’s so fragile right now. Go easy on her.”

Sundance nodded but he made no promises. He’d have to see for himself what was happening with Iris before he knew how to handle the situation.

All he knew at this point was that Iris hadn’t left her home in the three weeks since she left the hospital. Mya brought her supplies, but otherwise she accepted no visitors. For all intents and purposes, she’d locked herself away in her house.

And that definitely wasn’t the Iris Beaudoin he’d known since she and Mya were in kindergarten together and he was in the third grade.

The Iris he knew was fearless, prideful, stubborn, a royal pain in his ass, in-your-face woman who laughed at challenges and never failed to gleefully insert herself into other people’s business without apology.

He couldn’t let that Iris wither and crumple in on herself, and if it took him to rile her up and draw her out, he’d do it. Whether she liked it or not.

Iris heard the sharp rap at her front door and ignored it just as she had whenever someone happened to stop by. She knew Mya was still at the urgent care center but even so, Mya wouldn’t knock because she had a key and would just walk in. So whoever was knocking—insistently and loudly—would eventually go away when they realized Iris wasn’t going to receive them.

The darkened interior of her usually sunny bedroom was her sanctuary and her prison. She’d stripped the gauzy panels of her bedroom windows, replacing them with dark, heavy blankets that blocked any hint of sunshine as well as prevented prying eyes from seeing in. Each time she felt the stirrings of strength to face the outside, she shrank away with fear that he was out there, watching her, laughing. When she slept she fought phantom hands that grabbed and violated. She often woke screaming, soaking in her own panic-driven sweat, stinking of terror and helplessness. So she caught catnaps when her body could no longer fight the exhaustion, but she stopped sleeping through the night to avoid the nightmares. Mya had offered to write her a prescription for something to help her sleep but Iris had balked at the idea. The thought of being unable to rouse herself from her dreams was too much like that night, being unable to help herself as a stranger had raped and beaten her. She shuddered violently and she burrowed deeper into the blankets heaped on her bed. In spite of the summer heat, she couldn’t seem to warm her body. It was as if her internal temperature had been permanently set to deep freeze.

At least the knocking had stopped.

Then she heard the front door opening and she scrambled out of the bed, grabbing the baseball bat she kept by her bedside now. She’d thought of getting a gun but that would require leaving her house and facing people.

It was probably Mya, the logical side of her brain offered, but the logic was drowned out by the panicked part of her that was in complete control right now. Her grip tightened on the neck of the worn wood.

“Iris?” a voice called out, and recognition caused her to stiffen in alarm.

“Sundance?” she answered, her voice scratchy from disuse. “Is that you?” He followed her voice and rounded the corner to the threshold of her bedroom where she still stood in the shadows with a raised baseball bat. He peered into the darkness and then flipped the light switch. She stumbled from the sudden wash of bright light and dropped the bat to crawl to the safety of her bed. “Go away,” she demanded, pulling the covers over her head. “I don’t want any visitors.” Least of all you.

But he didn’t go away. Instead he walked to the window and she heard him taking down her blankets, flooding the room with natural light. She felt the sunshine filling the room and she burrowed deeper into her bedding. She didn’t want sunshine. She wanted darkness and solitude.

“I need to talk to you,” Sundance said, ignoring her wishes. That was just like him, to do what he wanted despite what others said. “About your case,” he added unnecessarily. Why else would he be pestering her? It wasn’t as if he regularly dropped by to visit on a normal day. Normal…the word held no meaning for her now. She couldn’t remember normal any longer. Maybe she was delirious from lack of sleep. Maybe she was eternally cracked in the head because she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think beyond basic needs. And when she said “basic,” she meant the very basics.

The slow but steady tug on the blankets caused her to pull harder but her strength was laughable. Tears welled in her eyes as she felt the blanket slip from her grip. All that covered her was the sheet. Sundance stood in a pile of blankets, his gaze alarmed. She imagined she looked frightening. She didn’t care. She lifted her chin and met his stare. “What do you want?” she asked dully, wishing to hide but he’d made that impossible. “I said go away.”

Sundance had never minced words with her. In all the years she’d known him he’d never held back. To be fair, neither had she. But as he stared at her, his gaze taking in every disgusting detail of her self-imposed retirement from the human race, she saw something different. Uncertainty. She would’ve rather that he started yelling at her or baiting her than what she saw in his eyes right now. The heavy silence battered at the thin, tattered veil of spunk she had left. Curling in a ball, she turned away from him, shame and defeat coating her every thought. Why’d he have to come? Couldn’t he have just left her alone? Had Mya sent him? She couldn’t imagine her best friend would betray her this way but, Great Spirit help her, she didn’t know what else to think.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

She thought of the piece of toast she’d forced down, was it yesterday? Or maybe it was the day before that? She answered, “I’m not hungry.”

“When was the last time you showered?” It’d been a while. She could smell herself and it wasn’t pretty, but there was a small comfort in her own stink. Perhaps if she smelled bad enough no one would come near her. When she didn’t answer, he said, “Never mind. I think I can figure that one out on my own. Come on, it’s time to get up and get moving again,” he announced, the grim tone telling her he wasn’t looking forward to the prospect, either.

“Not today,” she answered, clutching a pillow to her belly.

“Yes, today,” he countered, his firm control back in full swing. He’d always been such a bossy jerk, she noted almost distantly. “First things first, a shower.” Because you smell, is what he hadn’t said but she heard anyway.

“I don’t feel like it. Maybe tomorrow,” she said in the hopes of sending him on his way.

“Today,” he repeated, going to her bathroom to start the water.

“Go to hell,” she muttered, but there was little heat and he called her on it.

“Say it like you mean it or don’t waste my time. Now let’s go,” he said, his stance hard and unyielding, like a drill sergeant with an unruly private. “It’s time to get back into the swing of things and that starts with a shower. We’ll work our way up from there.”

Her eyes stung. Why wouldn’t he go away? “You’re cruel. Don’t you understand I can’t just yet?”

If there was a softening in his gaze, it was gone in an instant. “You’re giving up. That’s not the Iris I know.”

She closed her eyes. “That girl is gone.”

“No. She’s just buried under the layers of stink you’re marinating in. Now, either you can get out of that bed on your own accord or I can haul you out. It’s your choice, but you’d better do it within the next three seconds or I’ll make the choice for you.”

“Go…to…hell.” This time she added more heat as anger started to thaw the frozen tundra filling the landscape inside her.

He offered a harsh smile. “That’s more like it but I know you can do better. Time’s up.” He approached her and she shrieked as she surmised his intent. She kicked at him but he managed in one fluid movement to rip her sheet from her body and toss her over his shoulder. She screamed and pounded his back, tears blinding her. Panic built until it threatened to choke the air from her lungs. She inhaled a sharp, painful breath, her mouth working to produce sound but something from her blank memory of that night broke loose and strangled her vocal cords until only a soft mewling escaped her lips.

“Don’t do this,” she gasped, kicking her feet, but he held her securely, thwarting her best efforts, that were pretty pathetic given how weak she felt from not eating or sleeping. “Sonny…please…” she whispered, tears flowing down her cheeks to land on the carpet as he carried her to the bathroom that had filled with steam. “I can’t…”

“You can,” he disagreed, depositing her in the shower, still clothed in her sleep shirt and underwear. She gasped as the water pelted her. It was at once scalding and soothing. She sobbed, flashes of memory coming to her from that night. She’d sat on the floor of the hospital shower after Mya had examined her, watching as the water washed away the blood and dirt but could do nothing to remove the pain and degradation. She’d remained in that shower until the water ran cold but by that time she’d become numb. That’d been the last time she’d showered. She shuddered as great, racking sobs shook her body. Sundance seemed on autopilot and was unmoved by her total breakdown. He grabbed the shampoo and squirted a modest handful into her shaking hands. “Start with this,” he instructed. “I trust you can handle the rest.”

And then he left, closing the door behind him. She stared at the green glob in her palm as if it were her enemy. But in truth, the enemy was the sentinel outside her door, demanding she put herself back together.

Damn you, Sundance. I hate you.

If only that were true…maybe none of this would’ve happened.

Her breath hitching painfully in her chest, she began to scrub until her scalp ached but just as she knew that night…nothing would ever take away the stain of what had been done to her.

Nothing.

Chapter 3

Sundance hands shook as he shoved them through his hair, listening as the water continued to fall in the shower. He knew he was taking a chance pushing her like that, Great Spirit help him, he’d felt each quake of her body against his as true panic had caused her to kick and scratch against his touch. Seeing her shrink into herself, trying to disappear, tore a fissure of wrath and helplessness inside him. But he couldn’t allow Iris to fade into nothingness. So if it meant being the coldhearted bastard who forced her to stay with the living, so be it.

Releasing a short, tight breath, he surveyed the room she’d turned into her prison cell and wondered how Iris had managed to live in such conditions. The stale, closed-in air was enough to send a normal person running for the window, which was exactly what Sundance did first. Throwing open the window, not caring that it was a little brisk outside, he started pulling the blankets from the floor to take them to the washing machine. He’d been here with Mya enough times to know the layout of the house but he never imagined he’d find himself actually doing Iris’s laundry. Up until recently, he hadn’t found much use for Iris aside from her being his sister’s best friend.

But things had changed. He wasn’t quite sure when or how but they had. Before he’d had time to deal with his feelings, Iris had been attacked.

He made quick work of throwing everything in the washing machine and then returned to make the bed with fresh sheets. Having grown up with alcoholic parents, the responsibility of running the house had often fallen to Sundance. Well before most friends his age, he’d known how to cook, clean and drive. He’d just finished when steam escaped from the door as it opened.

Iris emerged from the bathroom, her long blue-black hair lying limply against the deep, rich burgundy bathrobe, her stare red-rimmed and accusatory as it bounced from the freshly made bed and back to him again. “Why’d you come?” she asked, her lip quivering. She clutched the lapels of her bathrobe closer to her neck as if trying to ensure every square inch of skin was under lock and key. Her desperate movements only accentuated how she’d changed in the course of one damned, ill-fated evening.

Iris had always been proud of her womanly curves, now she was doing everything she could to cover them.

“You can’t hide in your house for the rest of your life,” he said gravely, meeting her stare for stare, though what he saw reflected in her eyes made him ache for the loss of something he’d never known he’d wanted.

“I’m not hiding.”

“Mya says you haven’t been to work in weeks and you never leave the house. I’d call that hiding.”

“I’m using my vacation and sick days.” She swallowed, looking away. “I’m…regrouping.” Sundance took a step forward, compelled to reach out to her in some way but she returned the distance between them by taking a faltering step backward until her back bumped against the wall. A hard knot lodged in his chest.

“Iris…” he started but she shook her head.

“I’m fine. It’s fine. I just need to be alone for a little while.”

She wasn’t fine. Any fool could see she was the opposite of the word. Mya had to see her friend was drowning. Why wasn’t she making more of an effort to draw Iris out? Surely wilting and withering away in this house wasn’t healthy. “I can’t let you do this to yourself.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Exactly. Not eating, not showering, not leaving the house. You need to snap out of it.”

Her eyes were dry but when he met her gaze he felt waves of grief and shame rolling over him and it made him want to put his fist through the wall. “I’ll be fine,” she said, nodding.

“Stop saying that,” he bit out. “Damn it, Iris, you’re not fine. You’re punishing yourself by barricading yourself up in this house like some kind of communicable disease. It wasn’t your fault. Whoever did this is scum, not you. Help me catch this son of a bitch before he does it to someone else.”

“I don’t remember,” she whispered, shaking her head in a pathetic, scared little rabbit motion that tore at his heart. “I don’t remember…I can’t help anyone.” She pulled the lapels tighter around her body as she began to shudder. “There’s a big white spot in my memory and I don’t think I want to remember. What if he’s someone I know? What if he’s watching me all the time, waiting to do it again?”

“That’s not going to happen,” he said, fighting to keep the growl from his voice. “We’re going to catch him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that I won’t stop until I do.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t help you. I wish I could. I can’t remember. It’s safer if I stay in the house. He might know where I work. He might follow me. If I stay here…he won’t find me.”

He wasn’t angry with her but seeing her so broken, so torn apart mentally, it awoke a rage so fierce that he wanted to break things for her sake. But he couldn’t do that, not when he needed to keep a calm head in order to catch whoever did this, not when he needed to be the one person in Iris’s life to keep her focused and moving forward so that she could get through this. He didn’t know why he knew he was the one for the job but he accepted it as he accepted all his responsibilities. He walked slowly to Iris even as she kept her eyes screwed shut. He could see her body quivering through the robe and he didn’t know if it was caused by cold or fear. He lowered himself beside her, taking care not to crowd her but close enough to let her know he was there. He’d never been one to coddle people, never been accused of being much of a nurturer. But here, now, he wished he had more of those qualities. He felt ill-equipped to deal with this kind of emotional trauma but he couldn’t leave her this way either. They sat in silence for a long while until Sundance recalled a memory from their childhood in the hopes of distracting her.

“Remember that time you hid a dead crawdad in my room and I couldn’t find it for weeks?” He smiled at the memory, remembering how bad his room had smelled before he’d found it tucked under his bed. “I’d known it was you even though you denied it. Even swore on your mother’s life that it wasn’t you. I wanted to kill you for that one.” But Mya had pointed out that if he hadn’t embarrassed Iris by snapping her bra in front of everyone during lunch recess, she wouldn’t have felt compelled to seek revenge. He’d grudgingly let that one slide. But there were countless other times when Iris had been the aggressor, the one who’d purposefully gone out of her way to make his life miserable for the simple pleasure of watching his blood pressure rise. He never thought he’d miss that Iris. But sitting here with that woman’s shell was almost too difficult to bear.

“Why are you here?” she whispered.

“Because someone has to be.” He looked her over with a clinical eye. There was no hiding the fatigue that bracketed her eyes, the sallow skin that usually glowed with health and vitality. “When was the last time you slept?”

The minute shake of her head told him she couldn’t remember. “He’s out there. Every time I close my eyes he’s there, watching me. Waiting.”

“I’m here.” No one was going to touch her. He’d make sure of it. He felt pressure against his biceps as she tentatively laid her head against him. “No one’s going to touch you.”

“So scared…” she admitted in a tight, barely audible voice. “So tired…”

“Then sleep,” he instructed softly.

She settled and, after a moment, her breathing became deep and he knew she’d fallen asleep. Pure exhaustion had won out.

Rising carefully, he maneuvered her into his arms and lifted her to the bed. With her eyes closed in sleep, lush lashes resting against her cheeks, and a full mouth that, until recently, he’d always teased her about, calling her fish lips, he found her features familiar yet foreign. Her hair, still wet from the shower, hung down his arm in a fall of black waves that shone like the liquid surface of a lake under the moon’s glow. He placed her on the bed and carefully pulled the blankets over her. Satisfied she was warm enough, he went to the window and closed it, not wanting her to catch a chill for the sake of fresh air.

He couldn’t bring himself to leave, not until he knew she’d at least slept a full eight hours and eaten a decent meal. If that meant he had to stay until that was accomplished, so be it.

The road to recovery was long, but she wasn’t alone. He just had to remind her of that fact.

Iris remembered laughing, enjoying a drink at the bar. The music had been loud and the lights dim. She remembered returning a smile, thinking the guy was good-looking and an excellent specimen for her objective, which had been to get Sundance off her mind. She didn’t want to be attracted to her best friend’s older brother. She’d known him her entire life, so why now? It was as if a light had been turned on in her head and suddenly she was seeing him in a completely different way. She’d never noticed his lean hips and wide shoulders or the way his mouth gentled when he let his guard down and actually smiled. No, she absolutely hadn’t noticed those things. Thank God. Like life wasn’t complicated enough?

And yet…

So Operation Distract Yourself had been going well.

In her dream state, memory and fiction blended together to create a nightmarish landscape. Soon, the music blared to the point of creating pain in her ears. The lights strobed in dizzying seizure-inducing patterns and the sudden touch on her arm as she was pulled from the bar seemed welcome at first.

But then the grip tightened like a vise and agony radiated through her body as the hand that had seemed friendly became aggressive and demanding. Her vision was fuzzy and unfocused. She couldn’t make out his features but she was nauseated by the blend of malice and excitement washing over her. Hands grabbing, punching, violating…

She slapped at the phantom attacker, a scream caught in her throat, trapped and useless, until the scene shifted with a slow slide to endless black that was somehow less frightening and even soothing.

At least when she was drifting in midnight, no one was hurting her.

Chapter 4

Mya, on break between patients at the clinic, peppered him with questions.

“How’d she seem?” she asked, frowning as if she already knew the answer, which she probably did, and just wanted Sundance to confirm or deny. “She’s having a rough time still, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” he answered drily, still troubled over Iris’s departure from the human race. “She’s totally cut herself off from everyone and it’s not healthy. You of all people should know that. Mya…why haven’t you tried to coax her out?” Mya affected a wounded expression and tears welled in her eyes, making him realize he’d totally bungled that one and he tried to make amends. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s coming out of my mouth. The situation has got me all tied up in knots.”

She rested her hand on his shoulder. “I know. And trust me, I tried. She won’t listen and I’m afraid to push her too hard. As a doctor I can be clinical about certain things but she’s my best friend and more like a sister. I can’t seem to separate my feelings. Any leads on who did this?”

“No,” he admitted, frustrated. “But I don’t have much to go on with Iris’s memory of the event compromised. Have the toxicology reports come back yet?”

“No, but it should be soon,” she promised. “I’ll call as soon as they do.”

“Thanks. Listen, I’ve got an errand to do before heading back out to Iris’s house. I just stopped by to let you know that there’s a new guy in town, and before you say you’re not interested in meeting anyone, he’s not exactly a stranger. He’s an old friend of mine named Chad Brown, who’s been assigned to the area as the liaison to the Bureau of Indian Affairs.”

“And how do you know him?” she asked, her brow lifting with faint interest.

Sundance smiled. “He used to live here. We were friends up until he left in junior high and then we caught up to each other again after high school. He went the college route, while I went law enforcement. He’s a good guy. I think you’ll like him.”

“Any relation to Paul Brown, the director of Indian Affairs?”

“Chad is his son.”

“Nice to have connections,” Mya quipped.

“In this day and age, it absolutely is. But don’t hold the nepotism against him. He’s really made a name for himself in certain circles. He’s done a lot of good work out there for Native Americans. You could do a lot worse.”

“Mmm-hmm,” was all she said to that. “I’m a big girl, Sonny. I don’t need you trying to find me a date. I can do that all on my own. Besides, with everything that happened to Iris, I can’t even think of dating.”

“I’m just saying it’d be nice to know my sister has someone to take care of her if I’m not around.”

She leveled a direct look his way. “I can take care of myself. Stop acting like you live in the time of our ancestors when women had to have a man to watch over them. I’m perfectly capable of caring for myself, thank you very much. Now, I have patients to see. Please give Iris a hug for me, and thanks for looking out for her.”

“I’m just doing my job,” he answered gruffly, not comfortable with the spotlight or the implication that he was doing this out of more than a sense of responsibility to one of his tribe. “But in all seriousness, Chad’s a solid guy. Just think about it, okay?”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she answered in a tone that Sundance knew to mean she would purposefully forget as soon as he left the building. Mya had given her heart away years ago and she hadn’t yet recovered from it being shattered. He had hopes, though, and even if he wasn’t what he’d consider a matchmaker of any sort, he never passed up the opportunity to let Mya know what her options were. She waved and disappeared, her break over.

Sundance climbed into his Durango. He had two stops to make before heading out to Iris’s house. One for food, another…security.

Iris managed to shower and run a brush through her hair, but she couldn’t bring herself to open the drapes or windows. Each time she tried, panic seized her by the throat and choked the breath from her lungs. She huddled in her bed, staring at the window, wishing she had the nerve to open it and breathe the cool, cleansing air, but the thought of being visible to whoever might be out there filled her with immobilizing dread. The feeling of being trapped in her home had begun to manifest but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything about it. She couldn’t move forward or backward and her impotence was maddening.

A knock sounded at the door and her heart jumped in her chest, banging so hard she thought for sure it might pop free, but when she heard Sundance’s voice she released a shaky breath and climbed from the safety of her bed to answer the door.

She couldn’t say she was happy to see Sundance two days in a row at her darkest hour but she couldn’t rightly say she was disappointed either. Again, she was stuck somewhere in the middle.

Iris opened the door and startled when a large black dog sat beside Sundance, eyeing her with the guileless curiosity only animals and babies possessed. “What…?” She gestured to the animal as she looked to Sundance for the answer. “A dog?”

“A guard dog, specifically.” He patted the dog’s broad head, his hand firmly on the leash. “Saaski, meet Iris, Iris, this is Saaski. He’s a wolf-shepherd hybrid and once he’s bonded to you, he’ll take someone’s head off if they try to touch you without your permission.”

Iris stared, unable to believe what Sundance had done. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “You got me a guard dog? Why? I mean…I don’t understand…”

“You couldn’t sleep because you didn’t feel secure. I suspect it’ll be a long time before you feel totally safe, but until then, Saaski will do his best to make sure that no one gets near you without a fight.”

She swallowed, her gaze reluctantly leaving Sundance’s to look at the dog. His thick, rich coat was as dark as sin with twin, burning coals for eyes. His face held the wise cunning of a wolf but he had the solid, muscular build of a German shepherd. She held out her hand to him and he sniffed at it before taking an exploratory lick. His heavy tail thumped and wagged—the dog equivalent to a “Hey, I like you” greeting—and she smiled for the first time in a long time.

She looked up and Sundance handed her the leash. “Thank you,” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper as gratitude overwhelmed her. How’d he know to do this for her? Why hadn’t she thought of it for herself? In the past her schedule didn’t lend itself to having much more than a houseplant or two but she knew the moment she looked into Saaski’s eyes, she’d do whatever she had to to accommodate her new companion. She didn’t doubt that this dog would protect her above all things and it meant more than she could voice that Sundance had done this for her. “Please come in,” she said, moving aside so he could enter. “Are you hungry? I have, like, twenty frozen casseroles of some sort that Mya brought. I don’t know what they are but I’m sure they’re edible.”

Sundance closed the door but declined her offer. “I can only stay for a few minutes. The breeder I got Saaski from runs an obedience and defense class in Forks. I want you to take it with Saaski. It’ll help you bond with him. Plus, the commands he’s been taught are in Navajo, so you’ll need to know how to control him using the commands he already understands. He’s a young dog still, only a year old, but the breeder said he’s smart and with the right training, he’ll be better than any house alarm you can buy.”

She ran her fingers through Saaski’s coarse fur. “Is he housebroken?”

“Well, he’s kennel trained and I brought the kennel for you. It’s in my Durango.”

“He sleeps in a box?” she asked, frowning at the idea of putting this glorious animal in a cage. She shook her head. “He can sleep with me.”

The corner of Sundance’s mouth lifted as if amused. “Somehow I had a feeling you’d say that. All right, I’ll put the kennel in the garage and if you need it, you know where to find it. I also bought a small bag of food to get you through to when you could get to town to buy a larger one.”

She chewed her lip, hearing what he wasn’t saying. Sooner or later she’d need to step outside of this house, if only to purchase dog food.

Sundance cleared his throat, adding, “But this bag should last you a few days.”

So she had a few days to get used to the idea of venturing out on the reservation. The thought gave her an unpleasant chill, but she nodded slowly. Of course Sundance was right, she couldn’t hide forever no matter how appealing the thought.

“He’s beautiful,” she said softly. “What does his name mean?”

“The breeder said it means ‘of two worlds.’”

“Appropriate,” she murmured, continuing to stroke the dog’s fur, blinking back tears. She felt caught between two worlds, too. Her previous world and her reality. She met Sundance’s stare and her breath hitched in her chest. What did he see? Did she want to know? She pushed her hair behind her ear, glad for the shower she’d taken this morning. “Sundance…about yesterday…” She stopped, the words seeming to dry up on her tongue. How did one thank another for forcing them to return to the land of the living? It’s not as if she and Sundance had been close. Yet, his message had come through loud and clear when she’d managed to effectively block out everyone else, including her best friend.

“Not necessary,” he started, but she cut him off with quiet determination.

“It is necessary,” she disagreed. “I know I need help. I’ve seen enough traumatized women in my profession to recognize the signs but I never realized it would be so difficult to pick up the pieces and try to move forward. Each time I thought about dragging myself out of my bed toward reclaiming my life, an overwhelming terror took over and I would end up a shaking, crying mess. It became easier to just accept that inside equaled safety, out there—” she gestured outside “—meant danger.” Tears pricked her eyes as she admitted, “I’m such a coward.”

“You can get through this,” he said, holding her stare without reservation. She saw strength, determination and even a hint of anger in those familiar eyes, and she drew comfort in knowing Sundance was ever the same, even if she had changed irrevocably. “And don’t you dare bow your head in shame. You did nothing wrong. Remember that.”

Her breath caught and she started to shake her head, a litany of reasons why she was to blame came to her tongue but she swallowed the instant response and jerked a short nod. “I’ll try.”

He seemed satisfied with her answer and the rigid set of his shoulders softened just a little as if he’d been holding back a tremendous wind at his back, or shielding her from some terrible calamity. Moisture blurred her vision again and she realized tears would never be far from the surface when she dared to broach this subject with him or anyone.

“I’m going to find who did this to you,” he assured her in a quiet but hard voice and she didn’t doubt his sincerity. Sundance had always borne the weight of his responsibilities with stoic resolve. He was hard as granite, as unrelenting as a puma on the hunt. She held no illusions that he wouldn’t turn that focus on her when he felt it was time. And apparently he’d felt the time had come. “Iris, I need a formal statement from you about that night,” he said.

A shaky smile from suddenly numb lips formed as she shrugged. “Formal or informal, I’ve told you everything I remember, which isn’t a lot.” The memory of someone giving a god-awful rendition of Aerosmith’s “Dude Looks Like a Lady” banged around in her head for a moment. She could smell the alcohol that had splashed on the bar, the sour perspiration of too many bodies and the faint scent of something sharp and tangy—cologne perhaps—but then nothing. She cleared her throat when it felt as if something were stuck there. “I’m sorry…it’s just blank. The stuff I remember…it’s nothing of value.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Sundance, trust me, there’s nothing there unless bad singing can be considered a crime.”

His mouth firmed. “Whoever did this to you was in that bar. Someone was watching and waiting for the right person. Did you talk or dance with anyone?”

Sweat popped along her hairline and she wiped at it with shaking hands. Music throbbed in her head, the laughter and alcohol went hand in hand. She’d been having fun. She’d gone alone to The Dam Beaver, the only bar actually on the reservation, not the least bit apprehensive about being by herself for it would’ve been like being afraid of her local grocery store. “I…I don’t remember,” she stammered, feeling sick. “There were a lot of people that night. Karaoke. Singing. I was laughing at…someone.” She rubbed at her forehead, the nausea rising in her throat. “I was thirsty. It was so hot…I ordered a club soda with lime because I knew I’d have to drive home eventually.”

“So you’d stopped drinking at some point. How much had you drank at that point?”

“I was tipsy but not drunk,” she answered, trying to remember, though her head had begun to spin. “I can’t do this right now. I feel sick,” she said, dropping Saaski’s leash to run to the bathroom. She slammed the door and put her head in the toilet in just enough time to lose the little food she’d eaten from earlier.

As the heaving subsided, Iris shuddered and rested her forehead on the cold porcelain, devastated by her body’s knee-jerk reaction to the trauma she’d been through. She knew she suffered from post-traumatic stress. From a clinical viewpoint she recognized the signs but as the person soaking in her own sweat over a memory flash, she couldn’t remain in that detached, clinical state.

She dragged her hand over her mouth and rose on shaky legs to rinse the sour taste away. She stared at the door, knowing Sundance was still out there, waiting for her. Her eyes squeezed shut as she willed strength into her legs, prayed for some semblance of control, and when it didn’t happen, she cursed her weakness with all the bitterness she could muster because she was fairly certain she’d never be the same again.

Sundance winced as he heard her retch from behind the closed bathroom door. The reaction had been almost instantaneous. He felt helpless and useless, standing there with a dog leash in his hand while Iris barfed her guts out over a simple question. He muttered an expletive and Saaski cocked his head at him. Restless with the need to do something productive, he went about the business of filling a bowl of food and water for the dog. Then he went to the Durango and put the kennel in the small garage. As a habit, he did a perimeter check and double-checked the lock on the side door. Satisfied things were secure, he returned to the house to find Iris curled on the sofa, stroking Saaski’s fur. She didn’t immediately look at him when he walked in—embarrassment, he supposed. Mya was always telling him to be more sensitive.

“You feeling okay?” he asked.

She shook her head, her eyes and cheeks red and splotchy from retching. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear on you like that.”

“Don’t apologize. You’ve been through a major trauma. Nobody expects you to bounce back immediately. Least of all me.”

She looked at him, surprise in her gaze. “Really?”

“Of course.”

“Then what’s with the dragging me out of bed, bringing me a dog and suddenly caring about my mental health?”

He supposed hers were valid questions. He was acting out of character. He couldn’t very well tell her that his head was a muddled mess about certain things. The woman had enough to deal with, she didn’t need his drama, too. But if he had the guts, he’d tell her that seeing her so broken made him want to break the law and nothing made him want to do that. He wanted to find that rotten SOB and make his life a living hell for what he’d done to her. All the things he prided himself on—being the responsible, dependable one with a cool head—went right out the window when he saw Iris hurt. But hell, no! He couldn’t say that because he didn’t know what to make of it himself. Looking away, he shrugged in answer. “Maybe I don’t like the idea of sparring with an unarmed person.”

Recognizing his attempt at a joke, she offered a faint smile. “You always were so competitive.”

“And so were you,” he countered, wishing her eyes would flare to life with that spark he was accustomed to seeing when she was seriously pissed off or determined to make a situation go her way. Instead they remained defeated and listless. And he didn’t know how to fix that. He rubbed at the back of his neck, the frustration getting to him. “Hey, make sure you eat something. Okay?” he said.

“I will,” she replied, but he didn’t believe her. She sighed in irritation and he welcomed the sound. “I have enough food to feed an army. I’ll pick something or else Mya will start an IV drip. Don’t laugh, she’s actually threatened me.”

“Good.” He approved of his sister’s threat. Iris was fading away and he didn’t like that at all. He walked to the door, turning as he let himself out, saying, “Make sure you lock this right after I leave. And if you take Saaski out, keep him on the leash so he doesn’t run. He’ll need a few days to get used to your place. Best to keep him in the house unless he’s needing to relieve himself.”

Iris nodded as she rose to follow his instructions. The door closed behind him and he heard the lock sliding into place. A short but wry smile fitted to his mouth. That right there—Iris doing as she was told—was a surefire sign that she wasn’t all there yet. Iris, as a rule, never did as she was told.

Especially when the instruction came from him.

Hard to believe he actually wanted the old Iris back.

Chapter 5

Sundance walked into The Dam Beaver, the place where Iris last remembered being, and after his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he approached the bartender and flashed his credentials.

He’d been here right after the incident with Iris, but he liked to remind people that he was still on the case even if everyone else had moved on in their interest level.

When it had first happened, the talk among the tribe had been about the unexpectedly violent attack but now, it was old news.

“You’re killing business,” Butch grumbled, leaning against the bar with a frown. A few patrons cast furtive glances Sundance’s way as they ambled away. He let them go but he made sure they knew he’d seen them. Butch sighed and grabbed a towel to sop up the wet spots left behind. “What can I do for you?”

“I want to talk to you again about the night one of your patrons was attacked.”

“Come on, Sundance,” he said, scowling, “how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know anything about no woman getting attacked. Whatever happened to her, happened outside of my place.”

Sundance narrowed his stare at Butch. “That night was karaoke. What was the crowd like? Anyone stand out? Maybe someone who wasn’t local?”

Butch grumbled under his breath but made a show of searching his memory. Unfortunately, the surly bartender failed to pull anything of value from his brain. He shrugged. “Karaoke always brings in the numbers and it’s hard to separate the locals from the off-rez, you know? Besides, I’m too busy slinging drinks to ID every Tom, Dick and Harry who walks in.”

Frustration ate at Sundance. “You know it was Iris who was attacked. You’ve known her since she was a kid. Hell, you probably served her mother back in the day. Doesn’t it bother you that whoever did this was in your bar?”

Butch glowered then looked away, shamed. “I’m real sorry she got banged up. She’s a good girl. I never had no problems with her.”

“Yeah, well, show you care by giving me a bit more cooperation. I’m trying to catch whoever did this to her.”

“Can’t give you what I don’t got,” he maintained stubbornly, but when he realized Sundance wasn’t going anywhere until he left with something useful, he added, “I’ll keep my ear open for anything. People start to drinking, their mouths start to flapping. Maybe someone saw something. I’ll let you know if anything important comes up.”

Sundance handed him a card. “You do that.” He turned and surveyed the motley group huddled in small clusters. Given that it was midday, the place was nearly empty. He could imagine how quickly it filled at night. No doubt Butch Jones enjoyed the monopoly of having the only bar on the reservation. He’d have to return on a karaoke night to see what kind of crowd the bar attracted. He’d never been a fan of karaoke himself. Mya had tried to talk him into giving it a try, simply for the entertainment value, but Sundance didn’t believe in “letting his hair down” as Iris had put it one time when she’d accused him of being as rigid as an oak. He failed to see how listening to a bunch of tone-deaf drunks doing their best to murder their favorite songs was good fun. He’d rather spend the time fishing or camping. Alone.

He left the bar and headed for the cramped building he called an office that also served as a detainment center/jail for anyone on the reservation who got caught breaking the law. Since the reservation was so small, he was a one-man army as far as law enforcement went and he took that responsibility seriously. He knew the troublemakers and the ones who were harmless nuisances. He also knew who to keep a firm hand on to keep from going bad. And not having a clue as to who had nearly killed Iris in such a brutal attack kept him up at night.

He pulled up and saw Chad Brown waiting for him. Chad hailed him with a wave and a friendly smile, that he returned. “I figured if I waited long enough you’d come along eventually,” he said. “Just thought I’d stop by and say hello. I had a few free minutes in between running errands.”

“You settling in okay? Not getting lost or anything, are you?” he teased his friend.

Chad chuckled. “It’s good to see some things don’t change. It feels good to prowl around the old stomping grounds. Weird, but good. I’d have thought there’d been some things that were different but, nope, everything looks the same. Down to the cracked wallpaper in the men’s bathroom of The Dam Beaver. Damn, doesn’t Butch know that’s unsanitary?”

Sundance laughed. “I try not to frequent the bar if I can help it. You might try it.”

“Quite possibly excellent advice, but I think drinking at home alone says something about you, doesn’t it?” Chad winked.

Sundance laughed and gestured to the station. “Come on in, I’ll show you around, not that the tour is extensive or anything. It’ll take all of five minutes and that’s if I draw it out and show you the backyard.”

“Hey, at least that’s five minutes not spent being my dad’s errand boy, so I’m game.”

Sundance chuckled. He didn’t know the Director of Indian Affairs well—he was just a kid when they’d lived on the reservation—but he’d heard through other channels he was a bit of a bear most times. He supposed working for him—family or not—was probably a major pain in the butt. Sundance went to his minifridge and offered Chad a soda. “Root beer or cola. Sorry no alcohol. Pick your poison.”

“I’m a root beer man,” Chad answered with good humor, accepting the cold beverage. He cracked it and took a good slug. “So, what’s it like being the law here?”

Sundance shrugged, cracking his own soda. “It’s honest work. So, what can I do for you?” he asked.

Chad smiled. “Still, the same old Sundance…to the point. Well, here goes…as you know, my father has given me the title of reservation liaison, that means absolutely nothing in terms of pay grade but means he gets to stay hobnobbing with the bigwigs and I get to do all the travel. I wondered if you might help me get to know the community again so that I’m not a total outsider. I don’t think anyone but you remembers me from when I was a kid.”

“You’d be surprised. Memories are long here,” Sundance said, adding with mock seriousness. “That, for you, might not be a good thing. Remember that time you shaved Miss Mamie’s cat? Yeah, well, she’s still alive and there’s nothing wrong with her memory.”

Chad shuddered. “Damn, she must be a fossil by now. All right, I’ll just take my chances on my own then. Some friend you are,” he said with a snort.

“Hey, don’t blame me. I told you not to shave that cat. You didn’t listen. That’s your cross to bear.”

“Well, if that’s the least of my crimes around here, I’m a lucky son of a bitch.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” Sundance smiled, their banter reminding him of when he’d visited Chad in their wild days after high school. They’d lost track of each other for a while but they’d found each other again and it felt the same as before. That was the mark of a true friendship in Sundance’s opinion. “All right, getting back to your original request, nothing is going to make the tribe budge faster than good, honest work.”

“Bring it on,” Chad said. “My back is strong and my hands able.”

“Good to know, but in the meantime, let’s see how well you take notes. There’s an issue that’s been shoved under the carpet for too long and it’s coming to a head. It’d be nice to know the tribe had a voice at the Bureau of Indian Affairs.”

“I’m your man,” Chad said. “What’s going on?”

“There’s going to be a meeting tonight over at the Tribal Center about the flood situation facing some of our tribal members. Their ancestral land is being eaten up by the encroaching waters of the Hoh River. We’ve been asking for federal funds to relocate some of the homes in the worst areas of the flood plain.”

“And let me guess, you’re getting stonewalled…”

“You got it.”

Chad rubbed his hands together. “I love a project. Count me in.”

Sundance grinned. The man had enthusiasm. That counted for something in his book. “See you at six o’clock then?”

“You bet.”

His radio went off and CeCe, his dispatcher, said, “Sonny, you’d better head over to Bunny’s place. Sounds like things are getting heated and you know how he gets when he’s had too much drink.”

That he did. William “Bunny” Roberts, like about half the population of the reservation, was out of a job and he self-medicated his depression with plenty of alcohol. Sundance often had to take Bunny in on domestic charges because the man wasn’t exactly soft and cuddly when he was in this kind of state. “Copy that,” he answered into the radio. He returned to Chad. “Duty calls. See you tonight?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Chad followed him outside the building and Sundance locked up. He didn’t wait to see where Chad went from there, he had more important things to do. Like keeping Bunny from pissing off his wife so much that she blew his head from his shoulders with that 12-gauge shotgun Sundance wasn’t supposed to know about.

Iris wasn’t surprised when Mya showed up on her doorstep later that evening after the clinic had closed. She suspected Mya had been after Sundance for details and now that Iris was no longer petrified to leave her bed, she probably figured it was safe to visit.

She opened the front door and found Mya bearing food—as usual—however, this time, Iris offered a genuine smile and invited her in to stay for a while. She’d missed Mya but she hadn’t realized just how much until she read the relief in her best friend’s eyes.

“You look better,” Mya said, trailing behind Iris as they walked to the kitchen so Iris could dish up the casserole Mya had brought. “How are you feeling?”

Ever the doctor, Iris mused silently. She smiled. “Healing, I guess,” she answered.

It’d been almost four weeks since the attack. The worst of the bruising had faded to a pale and sickly yellow but at least the swelling had gone away. There remained one thing she needed to fully put the situation behind her and she wouldn’t get that for a few more days. Mya surmised the direction of her thoughts and said quietly, “The morning-after pill should have prevented…anything from…”

Iris risked a tremulous smile. Great Spirit forgive her, but she hoped and prayed every day that whoever had attacked her hadn’t planted a baby in her womb. She wanted babies someday but not like this. “I know. It’s okay.” She choked down a lump and forced the tears from her eyes. Iris wasn’t going to waste her visit with Mya on crap like this. For heaven’s sake she just wanted to feel normal again. And that included indulging in conversation that wasn’t weighted by sadness and grief. She wiped at her eyes and handed Mya a plate that she almost refused but Iris wasn’t about to eat alone. She’d had enough of that. “Come on now, you brought enough food to feed the entire tribe. The least you could do is sit with me and enjoy it.”

Mya’s smile widened with joy. “I’d be happy to.”

They spent the next hour eating and enjoying each other’s company in a basic bid to reconnect after a horrible tragedy.

Iris hugged Mya and held her tight. “Thank you,” she whispered, tears leaking down her face. “I’m sorry for locking you out.”

“Don’t apologize,” Mya said fiercely. “I wasn’t going anywhere. I was just waiting until you were ready.”

They broke the embrace and Iris wiped at her eyes. She had Sundance to thank for dragging her into the present. Saaski wandered in from her bedroom to settle at her feet. Mya’s eyes widened at the sight of the dark, dangerous-looking dog. “Oh, my, is that…?”

Iris laughed and leaned down to scratch between Saaski’s ears. “Yes, my new personal security system. Isn’t he beautiful?”

“Beautiful, yes. Scary, absolutely,” Mya said, eyeing Saaski with a bit of fear. “Wherever did Sundance find such a dog?”

Iris shrugged. “I don’t know. He said he knew the breeder.”

“A regular dog wouldn’t have done the trick?” Mya asked.

“Sundance must’ve known I needed something with bite. He’s perfect,” she said with admiration, suddenly clarifying, “the dog, not Sundance.”

“I know what you meant.” Mya pushed her plate away and rose to clear the dishes. There was more than her mild concern over Iris’s new dog reflecting in her eyes, and Iris had a feeling it wasn’t good news.

“Out with it, Jonson. You’re terrible at keeping secrets,” Iris said, half joking. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

Mya flashed a pained smile and Iris loved her all the more for her desire to shield her from whatever was weighing on her mind. “The toxicology results came in right as I was leaving the office.” Iris held her breath and waited. Mya sighed unhappily, continuing, “Your blood tested positive for ketamine.”

“That accounts for the memory loss,” Iris murmured, her dinner sitting like lead in her stomach. “What else did you find?”

Mya shook her head. “Not much. DNA analysis came back negative for matches.”

“So basically, aside from the drug he used, we’ve got nothing useful to catch this person?” At Mya’s nod, Iris swore softly but otherwise tried to keep a level head, which was near impossible when inside she was screaming. “Well, that’s the way it goes, I guess.”

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