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Authors: Bess McBride

Tags: #multicultural, #Contemporary

Jenny Cussler's Last Stand (3 page)

BOOK: Jenny Cussler's Last Stand
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“In-dee-uhn Health Service, Gary. Say it right.” Clint pulled his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms in a mildly defensive posture. He knew his friend was kidding—slightly—but the subject of the federal government never failed to rile some Native Americans. “Yup, that’s right, buddy, I’m working for the Feds and enjoying every penny of it. The military paid for my schooling and got me this job. They paid for your education, too, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Distracted, Gary leaned forward to peer out the window. “Hey! Isn’t that the gal who came here last year...from Portland? What was her name?”

Clint squinted. A tall, slender, thirty-something blonde woman stepped down from one of the vehicles and surveyed the scene before stretching her arms over her head.

“What’s she doing here, Gary?” Clint turned accusing eyes on him. “Why didn’t you tell me she was coming? I don’t think I can face another week of her following me around.”

Gary let out a hoot and laughed. “Hah! I think her name is Celia. I didn’t know she was coming back. She must have been a last-minute switch. They’re not supposed to do that without letting me know. I’ll have to e-mail the coordinator at the Portland VA.”

Clint backed up from the window, though he was certain no one could see him from the outside.

“That’s hardly going to help me now, is it, Gary?” He looked around the room as if for an escape.

Gary patted him on the shoulder. “Now, don’t worry, Clint. The big bad white woman ain’t gonna get you.” He bent double, cackling with laughter.

“I’m telling you, man, I’m outta there at the first sign she thinks she needs herself an Ind’n man. I can’t take it again this year.”

Gary wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his green plaid shirt. “I’ll tell the ladies working up at the camp to keep an eye out for you, okay, Clint? So that woman doesn’t chase after you again.”

Clint playfully punched the smaller man in the ribs. “Don’t even start with them. I’m not going to have those gals in my business again. Don’t you remember how great it was when we were away at college? No one watched us, no one cared what we did. We didn’t have to report to anyone.”

Gary’s smile dropped, and he shook his head. “I know you liked it, but I didn’t. I like it here, Clint. I like knowing everyone in the community knows who I am and where I come from.”

Clint turned from the window to stare at Gary. “I know, buddy. I know you like that stuff. I don’t mind it all that much either, but it gets on my nerves every once in a while. It’s not easy being a single man around here, you know.”

Gary raised a sparse dark brow in his direction. “I wouldn’t know, Clint. Remember? I’ve been married since I was eighteen.”

“You’re lucky, man. No one worries about you anymore. That’s probably worth getting married for.”

“Well, that and a baby on the way.” Gary grinned and turned away to pick up some keys. “Let’s get this show on the road, pardner. Daylight’s wasting.”

Clint took a last look out the window. Celia leaned against the van in a languid pose guaranteed to draw male eyes...and the men were certainly eyeballing her in her shorts and strappy top. She seemed to stare directly at the building. Clint shivered. Not again. Maybe he could lie and say he had a girlfriend or something. Maybe Celia had gotten married. That would be nice.

He sighed and followed Gary out the door, down the hall, and outside into the afternoon sunshine. All eyes turned to the two long-haired men as they emerged from the building. Clint averted his eyes from Celia’s van.

Gary raised his hands in greeting. “All right, folks. I’m Gary Wilson, the veterans’ liaison for the Yakama Nation. Welcome to Camp Chaparral. We’re going to be going up to the camp in a convoy. I’m going to take the lead vehicle and Clint here is going to bring up the rear. Kind of like a wagon train...only led by Ind’ns. We do that just to make sure some of you don’t get yourselves lost on the way. It’s easy to do, so stay close. The road is partially unpaved, and it’s going to be dusty at times. Do the best you can to keep up. Any questions?”

Clint shook his head when Gary stepped out almost immediately and headed for an old SUV marked with the logo of the tribal headquarters. Gary obviously wasn’t planning on answering too many questions at the moment.

Clint headed for his own dark blue truck as fast as he could.

“Wait, Clint. Can I ride with you?”

Clint stopped in his tracks and turned at the sugary sweet voice he’d been trying to outrun. Celia!

“It’s good to see you again, Clint.” She held out pale slender fingers. Clint thought about ignoring them but couldn’t. He took the cool fingers in his own and dropped them as soon as possible.

“Celia. Welcome back to camp. I’m surprised to see you here again.”

Celia moved closer, so close he could smell her cloyingly sweet perfume. Clint backed up a step.

“Well, someone dropped out at the last minute, so I managed to take their spot. I loved it here last year, and I just had to come back.” She tossed her pale blonde pony tail and smiled beatifically. Clint had to admit she did have a great smile, with beautiful even white teeth...expensive teeth.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked past her to see Gary positioning his vehicle at the exit of the parking lot while he waited for passengers and vans to sort themselves out in a caravan. A short woman with striking red hair jumped out of one of the vans and ran toward the building. Her fellow passengers urged her to hurry as the vehicle moved into the lineup.

Clint brought his attention back to Celia. “Didn’t you come in a van?” He searched for Celia’s vehicle. The side doors of the government vehicle were open, and the passengers gazed at Celia expectantly.

“Wel-l-l-l-l, yessss, but it’s so crowded in there. Can’t I ride up with you, Clint?”

He swore she literally batted her eyes at him. Blue eyes had never been his thing. He sighed. Good manners were, though. His grandmother had made sure of that. But still...he didn’t want to ride with her for an hour.

“Well, I wish I could give you a ride, Celia, but I’ve already got a passenger, and there’s no more room. The back is filled with bags and equipment.”

“Oh, really? Well, maybe this other person could ride in my van?” Celia looked around for the mysterious passenger, and Clint knew he’d better act fast.

“Gee, I think that’s probably asking too much. Listen, I’ve got to go round the passenger up, so I’ll see you up at the camp.”

He swung around and headed back toward the building. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Celia heading dejectedly back toward her van.

With a vague plan to hide inside for a few minutes, he strode up the sidewalk and pulled open the door. Attached to the knob on the other side was the short redhead he’d glimpsed earlier, who came flying out the door and landed against his chest.

Clint reached to steady her, and she backed off immediately.

“Excuse me! I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was on the other side of the door.” She looked up at him with widened chocolate brown eyes that caught him by surprise. Her freckled cheeks stained a rosy red, and she dropped her eyes to his feet.

“No, I’m sorry. I was just dashing in to get something...” Clint slid a quick look toward the parking lot. Celia waited by the side of her van, watching him.

“Well, excuse me, I’ve got to catch my ride.”

“Listen, I’ve got an extra seat in my rig. I’m bringing up the rear. Your van looks crowded and hot. And they’re already pulling out.”

She turned to see that indeed her van was moving behind the lead vehicle. The door remained open and several arms signaled for her to run.

“I can still catch them...” She prepared to run, but Clint caught her arm in desperation.

“Please ride in my SUV,” Clint begged. “I’m trying to avoid giving someone a ride. Please... I’m not being a creep or trying to pick you up or anything.”

She looked at her arm, then up into his eyes. He let all the desperation he felt show as he flicked a glance toward the watching Celia. She followed the direction of his eyes. Clint dropped his hand, completely ashamed he had manhandled her.

“Oh, is that...? Are you...? Does she want to ride up with you?”

“Yes, yes, that’s it. I can’t... Help me.” He couldn’t keep the childish desperation from his voice.

A twitch started at one corner of her mouth, and a dimple peeked out from the side of her chin. She lifted one arm and waved to her van to signal them to move on. They slammed the side door shut and drove away.

“Okay, my good man, lead on.” Her curvy lips widened to a grin. A twinkle in her eye caught his attention.

“Thank you, thank you. I owe you.” He strode toward his vehicle and lifted a casual hand in Celia’s direction. She climbed into her van with a shrug, and the vehicle moved into the slow-moving line.

“No problem. I’m game. I was tired of riding in that hotbox anyway.”

“Good. I’ve got air conditioning. My name is Clint Hastings, by the way.” He reached out to shake her hand before he opened the passenger door. She slid into the gray cloth-upholstered vehicle.

“Not Gray Eagle or Running Bear?” she asked.

He paused and leaned on the open door for a moment with a grin. “Nope. Looks like I’ve got some white folks in the woodpile somewhere.” He chuckled.

He crossed around to the front of the vehicle and climbed in to hear the end of her laughter. The sound lightened his heart.

“So what’s your name? Sacajawea?” He stuck his keys in the ignition and started the car.

“Not likely. I’m probably the only white person you’ll ever meet who doesn’t claim to have a drop of Indian in them. My name is Jenny...Jenny Cussler.”

Clint turned to her with a start. “Custer! Custer?”

Jenny gasped. “No, Cussler, not Custer. No, not Custer. Oh, geez, that would be weird.”

Clint plastered a grin on his face and relented. “I heard you the first time. I just thought I’d tease you a bit. Custer isn’t such a popular name in Indian country.” He adjusted the air conditioner, and cool air swept into the car.

He moved his vehicle into position behind the last of the government vehicles.

“So what kind of name is Cussler, anyway?”

“Irish, I think. What about Hastings?”

He glanced at her in surprise. Her eyes continued to twinkle.

“Ummm...white, I think.” Would she laugh again—that warm sound that suddenly made him think this week would be fascinating? There it was! The laugh...coming from somewhere deeper than her throat. Her dark-lashed eyes crinkled at the corners as she looked at him. Celia was forgotten.

****

Jenny couldn’t believe she was sitting in the front seat of a stranger’s SUV, and with a strange Indian, at that. It was not what she had imagined when she awoke at three-thirty that morning to dash over to the VA and catch the government van. She’d been flabbergasted when the tall, handsome Native American man she’d spied earlier had waylaid her and asked for help. He certainly looked capable of handling the unwanted attentions of a pursuing woman on his own.

She tore her gaze from his aquiline bronzed face and fixed it on the slow-moving vehicles in front. They drove through the edge of town and turned south toward the mountain, past extensive fields of hops, which were notable for the tall poles supporting the hearty vines.

She felt suddenly tongue-tied in his presence, but forced out the words uppermost in her mind.

“So, who was that gal? Was she supposed to ride with you? Is there a story?” She cast him a quick sideways glance before returning her attention to the road ahead.

“What gal?”

His voice resonated with a timbre that captivated her completely. His evasive answer only deepened his voice.

“You know what gal!” She turned a direct gaze on him. Her lips twitched. “The beautiful blonde? Waiting by the van? The one I saw you talking to earlier? Hmmmm?”

The bronze on his cheeks darkened...adorably. He slid her a quick glance from dark-lashed almond-shaped eyes.

“Oh, that one! Celia. Did you see me talking to her earlier? Really? I saw you run into the building.”

It was Jenny’s turn to blush. “Well, nervous bladder, I guess. Don’t ever tell me I can’t...um...use the bathroom for an hour. I panic.”

Clint threw back his head and laughed, a deep, husky sound that made her join in.

“I see,” he said when he caught his breath. “Well, you’ll be glad to know there’s a rest stop along the way...if you need it.” He flashed her a mischievous smile. A dimple in the middle of his cheek peeped out. Jenny did her best to keep breathing. She kept her nose on the scent.

“Thank you. Good to know. So, you were saying?”

He threw her a quick glance. “About what?”

“Celia.”

“Oh, Celia.” Again, color sprang to his dark cheeks. Jenny chuckled...silently.

“Yes, well, she was at the camp last year. She wanted a ride up to camp.”

“And you didn’t want to give her a ride? Why not?” Jenny figured she’d never see him again after the week was over. She could tease him all she liked...and for some reason, she really wanted to tease him.

“Well...uh...” He leaned his left elbow on the driver’s side door and ran a harried hand across the smoothness of his shining black hair. “I just...she already had a ride.”

Jenny crossed her arms and regarded him with affectionate suspicion, only vaguely aware that she had fallen under the spell of a man she didn’t even know.


I
had a ride.”

“Well, it looked like your ride was taking off.”

“They wouldn’t have left without me. Don’t hedge. I did
you
the favor. What’s the story, Mr. Hastings?”

Clint opened his mouth and closed it again, revealing an angular jawline that looked as if it could be quite uncompromising. In fact, he looked downright mulish for a moment, but to Jenny’s relief he gave in with a chuckle.

“No story. She’s from the Portland VA. She followed me around a lot last year. I couldn’t get away from her.”

BOOK: Jenny Cussler's Last Stand
8.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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