Green Lake (21 page)

“I want him to come back with me,” said Sara. “Don't make it hard for him.”

“You mean don't make it hard for you.”

“He will come back with me,” Sara assured her. “All Indian men go through a period of attraction to white women. But he needs to be with other Indians and I'm going to do everything I can to make up for all he lost when the whites took him.”

“I was under the impression you gave him away,” said Madeleine, and Sara's dark eyes turned cold with anger.

“You know nothing about it.”

“True,” Madeleine admitted.

Sara smiled suddenly. “This conversation is absurd, really, because I'm not going anywhere right away. Your hold on him is probably sexual, nothing more, and my presence here will put a damper on that. When the sex is over everything else will be over. It's nothing personal, believe me. You seem like a nice person.”

Madeleine lifted a palm and struggled to make her voice light. “No offense taken, Sara. I've met dozens of Indians just like you and I'm used to it.”

Sara's chin quivered angrily and she opened her mouth, but Eris came back to the table at that moment and apologized again.

“Well, what happens now?” Sara asked when he didn't sit down again.

“We ask for our food to be placed in take-out bags,” said Madeleine.

Sara frowned. “What on earth has happened?”

”A possible rabid skunk,” said Eris. “We've had four so far this year.”

He went to speak to the waitress, and Madeleine and Sara looked at each other again, but neither said a word.

They remained silent on the drive back, Madeleine and Sara carrying their bagged dinners in their laps. Eris glanced over occasionally, but neither would meet his look. At the lake, Madeleine saw Jacqueline and Manuel's Jeep in the drive and asked to be let out at the log cabin. Eris stopped the truck in the road and got out, taking the dinner from her so she could slide over.

Once she was out she took the dinner, thanked him, and lifted herself on her tiptoes to brush his lips before turning and walking across the road. Not another word was said between Madeleine and Sara Bent Horn.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Eris was kept busy most of the weekend with call after call, but when he was able to go home, he talked and ate with his mother, who gave him the stories he asked for about his grandparents and their grandparents and regaled him with tales of Fox who lived long ago, the ones who fought the whites and won. She made him laugh when she attempted to show him a dance and teach him a song, and she told him his father would have taken cash prizes at every powwow in the state. Daniel Birdcatcher was the best dancer she had ever seen, she claimed.

Only occasionally would Eris's attention wander to the door or the window. He hadn't seen Madeleine since the night she met Sara and he wondered if his mother's rudeness had changed things in some way. The silence between the two women on the return drive had been an uncomfortable one, and he knew something unpleasant had occurred between them. One had to listen to his mother for only half an hour to learn how bigoted most of her views were. Eris understood some of it, having been to the reservation and seen the poverty and alcoholism for himself, but he didn't understand all of it. Particularly her reaction to Madeleine. Eris had been proud to show her off, the beautiful, intelligent woman who wanted him, but his mother's behavior had made him embarrassed for Madeleine and angry with Sara. He had no idea what to do now. He thought Madeleine would understand, having been exposed to white hatred before, but he still wanted to see her, talk to her.

On Sunday night, after he saw Jacqueline and Manuel leave, he told his mother he was going up to see Madeleine.

“Can't it wait?” she asked. “She'll be here for the whole summer. I won't.”

Eris didn't know about that. She hadn't shown any inclination to leave so far. Hadn't even discussed it. Not that he was anxious for her to leave, but he didn't want to put his relationship with Madeleine on hold indefinitely.

“I'll be back,” he said.

“Why not invite her down here?”

“I want to be alone with her,” Eris clarified, and before his mother could argue further he opened the door and exited the house to walk up and knock on the door of the log cabin.

Madeleine seemed surprised to see him. She opened the door and peered past his shoulder, as if expecting to see someone behind him.

“Hi,” she said.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“Yes, of course.” She stood aside and allowed him past her. She seemed to hesitate before closing the door, and Eris asked if she was expecting someone else.

“No, I just. . . didn't expect to see you.”

Something had changed. He could feel it. He moved toward her and saw her take a step backward.

It reminded Eris of when he had first met her. It hurt.

“How was your weekend?” she asked, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Busy,” he said. “I wasn't home much.”

“Me either. Jacqueline took me to Wichita for the day on Saturday. It was good to be in the city again. And to drive my own car. I wanted to bring it back here, but Jacqueline talked me out of it. It's an Audi.”

Eris nodded. He could see her in an Audi.

“Madeleine,” he said abruptly, “What did she say to you?”

“Jacqueline?”

“Sara.”

Madeleine lifted her hands. “Nothing I didn't expect. She is your mother, after all, and she's looking out for her son.”

“I can look out for myself.”

“She thinks you need to be with other Indians. She wants you to learn everything I couldn't teach you.”

“I'll decide what I need.” Eris moved toward her once more and then stopped when she retreated from him again.

“Don't do that, Madeleine. You don't know what it does to me to see you backing away.”

Sudden emotion clouded Madeleine's eyes as she looked at him. “You don't know what it's doing to me. I only want what's best for you.”

“Goddammit.” Eris slammed a frustrated hand against the wall. “Don't say things are going to change because of something that woman said to you.”

Madeleine stared, and he could tell she was startled by his angry display. Eris swallowed and strode forth to take her by the arms. He pulled her to the sofa and sat down to draw her onto his lap and put his arms tightly around her. He held her as close as he could without hurting her, kissing and touching her face until she made a noise in her throat and lifted her arms around his neck to hold him just as tightly. “I gave you the chance,” she said to him.

He breathed out in relief and lifted a hand to cup her head. The thought of losing her did strange things to him, now that he knew how good it could be, how it felt to have someone who cared about him. He had that with his newfound mother, he knew, but his mother had to love him because he was her son. Madeleine didn't have to care about him. She didn't have to cook dinners for him or kiss him or make love with him. She didn't have to throw herself into his arms when he came home from work, or look at him the way she did. Him, with his face, the face even his mother looked at with poorly disguised pity. His beautiful Madeleine was his because she wanted to be, and his feeling for her only intensified to realize how much she did not need him.

He put a finger under her chin and lifted her head to look at him. She closed her lids to his probing gaze and he touched her lashes to make her open them again. When she was looking at him, he said, “I used to have a Volvo.”

Madeleine stared at him in confusion for several seconds. And then she laughed.

He smiled and leaned his forehead against hers. She laughed again, hugged him, and they looked into each other's eyes. After a moment their gazes turned suddenly sober.

There was an air of anticipation between them as they went on looking at each other for breathless seconds. Then Madeleine put her hands to his face, and in a broken whisper she said three words that made his eyes squeeze shut and his breathing stop. He wanted to say her name, but no words could make it past the thickness in his throat. He could only hold her to him and clutch at her arms and shoulders with his hands. For the first time in his life he felt like giving thanks. The first twenty-seven years had been pretty dismal, but here suddenly was a woman he adored telling him she loved him.

He felt her lips cover his and he opened his mouth to kiss her. Madeleine's hands still cupped his face, and she began to gently kiss him on his cheeks and chin and forehead, her lips soft against the pits and scars of his skin. Eris opened his eyes finally to look at her, and he saw the words she had spoken repeated in her gaze as she looked at him. A shiver passed through him and the skin of his arms and chest goose pimpled. As one they left the sofa and moved down the hall to the bedroom, unbuttoning clothes and taking down hair as they went.

Minutes later her fingers were tangled in his hair and he was tasting the skin below her navel when he felt her jump. Then he heard the reason for it.

Someone was knocking on the door.

They looked at each other then Eris got up and put on his jeans. He went to the door shirtless and barefoot, to let his mother know he wasn't planning on coming home that night. He swung open the door and saw Dale Russell standing on the porch. Dale Russell stared at Eris. His brows drew together in a deep frown. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“That's my business,” said Eris. “What do you want, Russell?”

He smirked and moved down a step. “The same thing you just got, obviously. Guess I'm shit out of luck tonight.”

Eris shoved open the screen door and grabbed Russell before he could leave the porch. Eris slammed him into a post and held him by the throat, telling him what he would do to him if he ever spoke that way again. Russell's face turned red and then purple before Eris finally released him. Dale Russell gagged and coughed and spat, and then he reached to the waist of his uniform and drew his gun. He pointed it at Eris.

“You sonofabitch,” he said hoarsely. “I'll kill you.”

“Bullshit,” said Eris, and behind him he heard an intake of breath that said Madeleine was at the door and watching.

Dale's eyes darted to the door. “Now I know why I'm having such a hard time with you, Madeleine. My skin's too clear. And maybe too white, huh?”

“Put the goddamned gun away or I'll take it from you,” Eris warned, and his eyes spoke to Russell as he stood holding the gun in his hand. Eris knew he could take it from him, and Russell knew it too.

He forced a laugh and holstered the gun. He laughed again as he walked to his truck and climbed inside. He was still laughing as he drove away.

“Asshole,” Eris muttered under his breath, and he turned to go back inside, Madeleine stood just inside the door dressed in a robe. She was staring at Eris with a peculiar expression. Eris closed the door behind him and went into the kitchen for a glass of water. After he drank the water he found her still looking at him. He put the glass down and asked her what was wrong. She gave her head a small shake. “Nothing. I had no idea you were fearless.”

Eris said, “If he was going to shoot me he would have done it rather than talk about it.”

Madeleine swallowed. “How reassuring.”

He took her hand and they returned to her room. “If he comes back to bother you while I'm not here, call the head office and tell them he's harassing you.”

She agreed, and then haltingly began to tell him about the phone calls she had received, and her second meeting with Bruce Beckworth, the man in the baseball cap.

Eris sat down on the bed beside her and drew a deep breath. He wished it was Madeleine living with him instead of his mother. He was frustrated by his inability to protect her when he wasn't around. “Ask Gloria Birdy to go with you the next time you feel like getting out,” he told her. “I'll feel better if you're with her.”

Madeleine nodded and slipped off her robe to lie down again. Eris took off his jeans and moved in beside her. Then it occurred to him to ask about her diaphragm. He gave her a gentle nudge and asked if she was wearing it. She shook her head. “It won't stay in with you.”

Eris blinked. “So you haven't been using anything?” “I don't have anything else to use. I didn't think about it while I was in the city.”

His heart rate quickened. “Are you concerned?” She propped herself on an elbow to look at him. “Not as concerned as your mother would be if she knew.”

He smiled at her and she smiled back at him. Then he took her in his arms.

The next morning Eris rose early, kissed Madeleine on the nose, then returned to his house. Sara was up and dressed, surprising him, and she greeted him as he came in.

“I'd like to go out with you this morning,” she said. “Puttering around here is truly a bore, and I always think of dozens of things to tell you that I can never think of again once you're home.”

“It's not a good idea today,” Eris told her, thinking of the incident with Dale Russell. “I have too many stops to make.”

“Please,” she said. “I really am dying of boredom, and I'm thinking of going home soon. I want to be close to you a while longer before I go. Your superior will understand, I'm sure.”

Eris could see she wasn't going to give up. He sighed and then nodded before disappearing to take a shower and dress. In the shower he surprised himself by thinking that Madeleine was more like him than his own mother. Sara was clearly an extrovert, clearly uncomfortable spending time alone. Madeleine knew how to occupy herself, the same as Eris. He had seen the notebook she'd filled up with writing on her dresser. She was working whether she knew it or not.

He was glad to know she had struck up a friendship with Gloria and Earl Lee Birdy. They were good people and Eris liked them. He would never have imagined them to be Madeleine's type, but she always managed to surprise him.

Like the thing with the diaphragm. He suspected Madeleine was a bit surprised at herself over the matter. He wasn't certain he could actually sire any children, but then he had never believed he would find someone he wanted to have a child with. Not until Madeleine said she loved him. He was still reeling from that, and a part of him almost wished she hadn't said it, because now all he could do was wonder if she loved him enough to stay.

Just thinking about it made his eyes close and his breathing slow. He wanted to say it to her. Leave or stay, he had wanted to push the words past his lips. But something had stopped him. He figured it was the adopted kid in him, the one who had learned to trust, the one who believed, and then was burned by circumstance.

She knew how he felt about her, he told himself. She had to know.

After he finished in the bathroom he passed through the hall to go to his room and found his mother standing at the foot of his bed. Eris wrapped his towel firmly around his middle and told her he needed to get dressed.

“You want me to braid your hair?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

She smiled. “Okay. Some do, some don't. Yours is awfully long. Did you already eat, or can I fix you something for breakfast?”

”A cheese and egg sandwich would be great,” he said, and she frowned at him.

“What?”

“Fry an egg and put cheese and mayonnaise on the bread.”