“A baby, all right. A baby girl,” he said.
Like the one they had lost. Same size, same big blue eyes. But this was not their child. Whose was it?
“When will they be here?” he asked.
“Well, since we’re a Safe Haven Provider, they might not even come. May just give us directions by phone.”
“But they can’t put her in temporary placement until we investigate for a missing child,” said Jake.
“She’s not missing.”
“I agree. Still have to run it through the system, though.”
He knew the law. She knew this particular bit, as she had been here when one teen mother appeared at the clinic to relinquish her child. The father had been contacted, and the young man had signed away his rights to his baby before the infant was placed. The Turquoise Canyon tribe had a 100 percent adoption rate of their children. Their tribe’s history of losing their youth to the training school that had once taken over the education and raising of Apache boys and girls made the tribe diligent in raising their own children.
In the past, parents did not have to agree to send their children, but once their people were resigned to the reservations, they faced a devil’s choice. They could keep their children home and lose their government subsidy and the only way to feed their families. Or they could send their children, receive the subsidies but lose the ability to teach their young their language and their heritage. The choice and the deep wound that remained made the tribe fiercely protective of its youth.
“What if she comes back?” he asked. “The mother, I mean.”
“She has parental rights,” said Lori.
“She shows up here and I arrest her. Glad to. Leaving Fortune out in the wind. Just wrong.” He wasn’t even using complete sentences now. This was bad.
“She might be young, Jake. Young people don’t always make the best decisions.”
He met her gaze, knowing the subject of the conversation had shifted.
* * *
HE LET THE fatigue drag at him, rounding his shoulders. His ears were ringing.
Jake’s head drooped and his words slurred. “Should be out investigating. Find who left her.” He gave a dull shake of his head. “Not right.”
“Detective Bear Den is at your house. They’re investigating.”
Which meant he’d drawn their only detective away from his other investigations, including a recent murder, the growing list of runaways and the relocation of the entire tribal headquarters to a temporary facility away from the river. He closed his eyes, swaying slightly on the stool.
“Come on, Officer Redhorse. Bedtime for you.”
Lori held his arm as she walked him to an empty birthing room with a comfortable bed and waited while he removed his open jacket and utility belt.
“Want me to lock that up?” Lori asked.
“Where?”
“Right there in the closet.” She pointed at the combination bureau and closet unit that backed up to the bathroom near the entrance. He judged the strength of the particle board and figured he could break it if he needed to.
“It’s safe,” she repeated. “But it’s a maternity wing. That—” she pointed at his gun “—needs to be locked up. So here or the nurses’ station.”
“Here. Leave the key.”
She opened the closet and he accepted her help to remove his jacket, mainly to feel her cool fingers brush his neck. Now the ache in his chest had more to do with regret than arousal. She’d taken a lot of crap back in high school, after word got out. It had been worse for her than for him. He didn’t know why, but, at the time, he’d been relieved.
He considered taking off his flak jacket but was just too tired.
He sat on the bed and she knelt to unlace his boots, placing them with his jacket, hat and belt. Then she locked the closet and handed him the key on a lime-green plastic accordion-style bracelet that he looped around his wrist.
He settled back into soft pillows and a mattress covered with something plastic beneath the white sheet.
“We’ll take care of her,” she assured him and stroked his forehead.
He was shaking his head again. “My job.”
“Why is it your job?” she asked, smiling down at him.
“Because I found her.”
She straightened and drew back, her smile gone. She sighed. “That is not how this works.”
“Lori? Does this mean that we’re talking again?”
He waited while she blew away a breath and then crossed her arms protectively before her, the shields coming up again.
“Maybe. But it’s hard, Jake. When I see you, I remember...”
“Our daughter.”
She dropped her chin and nodded.
“Yes, and everything else.”
Jake opened his arms and gathered her up as she rested her forehead on his shoulder. She kept her arms crossed but let him hold her, rub her back. He hadn’t held her since they’d lost their own baby, and that had not gone well. The time before that had been in his truck. She’d said yes, yes to everything. And that was her fault as much as his.
Lori drew back first, of course, and he let her go. It seemed that was all he ever did.
“I’d like to be able to talk to you, Lori. And not just about what happened.”
Her eyes were cautious. She had reason to be suspicious, but not as much reason as he had to be suspicious of her.
“Talk, huh?” She gave him a look that cut through the bull. He wanted many things, but talk wasn’t exactly one of them.
She changed the subject, dismissing him and the topic.
“Your captain said you were on patrol last night, that you covered the traffic fatality and who knows what else. So, bed. Now.”
He stroked a strand of her hair that had escaped the tight knot. Instead of drawing back, she let him cup her head in his hand. He met her gaze, letting her know what he intended and giving her time to step away.
It was a bad idea, but he was still going for it. No stopping himself, just like the last time they were alone. But he was older now. His control was better.
Liar. She still stripped away all control. There was no containing the fire that burned within him for this woman. His brain shrieked a warning as he pulled her in tight.
Her eyes widened as she sucked in air through flaring nostrils. The small gesture made his chest constrict. He flexed his arm, bringing her in closer. Her fingers slipped into the opening of his uniform at the collar, nails raking his chest. His blood surged and he took the kiss, his mouth hungry. Her arms threaded around his neck as he deepened the kiss, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. She was like a drug for him. The habit he thought to break, and all the while it had lingered inside him, waiting for a chance to have her again. If she had learned anything, she should be running for the door because they were alone again, and there was a bed right beside them.
He turned her in his arms and brought her to the mattress. She stiffened and broke the kiss. He lifted to his elbows to give her a questioning look. She gaped at him and then shoved away, slipping from his grasp. He sat on the bed while she stood panting beside him. He’d dragged the forked comb from the tight bun and let her hair fall. Then he raked his fingers through the strands until her hair fell about her shoulders in soft waves.
“Jake, you can’t do that.”
But