But the worst of it was that he’d cut his hair. He’d sworn he’d never do that. He was a Longhair. It went with the name. Instead of reaching almost as far down his back as hers did, his thick black hair was closer to his ears and slicked back.
He glanced up and caught her staring. “What?”
“You cut your hair.” Lord, that’s not what she’d wanted to say, but the words just popped out. She’d meant to keep their interactions strictly professional.
One side of his mouth curved up in a smile. Was he flattered that she’d noticed, or was the new-and-improved Nick just vain? “Occupational hazard,” he explained as he ran a hand through his close-cropped mane. “Where do you live now?”
She could not believe the audacity of this man. He’d all but fallen off the face of the planet for almost two years without sparing a single thought to her, but the moment he arrived back on the rez, he expected to pick up where they’d left off? No. Not gonna happen. She had her pride. And a mountain of bills. But she’d rather cut off her own foot than let Nick think she needed his money. She’d already made a mistake with him once. No way she was going to make it again.
So she didn’t answer. Several seconds passed before Nick realized that she wasn’t talking. “Tanya? Did you hear me?”
“I’m sorry.” Strictly professional. No need to get fired for insubordination. Not yet anyway.
A shadow crossed Nick’s eyes. She had his full attention now, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing. “Do you still live with your mother?”
“I’m not sure what this has to do with my job.” Or yours, she wanted to add, but that whole insubordination thing kept her mouth shut—for once.
His eyes narrowed. Combined with the expensive clothes and the new hair, Tanya realized she was sitting across from a complete stranger. “You’re not going to answer my question?”
“Is there something else you need help with? If not, I have to go. Councilwoman Mankiller lets me leave at 4:30.” She’d never needed to get Bear more than she did right now. But no matter what Nick did next, she could claim to have acted with all due respect.
Moving slowly, Nick set the paper aside. He put his hands facedown on the desk and then leaned toward her. Tension rippled between them. She could just catch a whiff of his cologne—something that smelled exotic and expensive. Even though she knew she was in danger of being trapped, she couldn’t pull away. Nick did that to her—drew her in and never gave her the chance to get out. All it had ever taken was for him to give her that half smile as he moved in on her, just like he’d tried to do in the conference room earlier. He must expect that she’d come running at his beck and call, just like she always had. The problem was, when he cornered her earlier, she had still wanted to come running. Just thinking about how close he’d been made her ache with a desire that she’d thought she’d long since buried. She took another deep breath, pulling his scent in deeper. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted out, not with the way his eyes flashed at her. He was like the mountain lion, using his silky brown eyes to hypnotize his prey—her—before he moved in for the kill. Then he said, “I’m going to find out one way or another. I’d feel better if you told me.”
There it was—the very real threat Nick Longhair posed to her life and to her child. One way or the other, he’d get what he wanted. The only difference was whether she got in his way or out of it.
Without rushing, Tanya stood. He might have all the power in this room, but she was going to be damned if she let him take her dignity. “Have a nice evening, Mr. Longhair.”
Someone should have a nice evening. But it wasn’t going to be her.
Two
Nick didn’t show up at Tanya’s little house that night. At work the next day, he walked in at 9:00 a.m. like he owned the place, gave her a heated stare and headed back to his office. He was still in there when she left at 4:30 p.m. He never even asked her for coffee.
She spent another restless night shooting out of bed at the slightest noise to make sure Nick wasn’t prowling around outside. She doubted that he was the sort of fellow who prowled anymore, but once upon a time, before he’d left her the first time to go to college, he’d made a regular habit of tapping on her window at three in the morning and taking her on a joyride in whatever truck he’d “borrowed” across the otherwise-silent rez.
Those middle-of-the-night trips to nowhere had been when they’d talked about their dreams and nightmares. “When I leave this rez, I’m not gonna be a dirt-poor Indian anymore, Tanya. I’m gonna be rich. I’m gonna be somebody,” he’d muse, laying on a blanket, the night air cooling them off after the heated sex. “I’m gonna buy you diamonds and pearls and the biggest house in South Dakota. And our kids—they’re not gonna live like this. Our kids are gonna have the best of everything. Rooms full of toys, new clothes that fit, their own ponies—everything.” The way he’d always said it made it clear that was all the stuff he’d wanted and never got.
She’d loved him for wanting to take care of her. But Tanya had always told him the same thing. “I don’t need all that stuff, Nick, not as long as I’ve got you.”
At the time, it had all seemed like a bunch of wild talk. She hadn’t realized how serious he was. But then, she hadn’t realized how serious she was.
Tanya had left the rez once, too. She’d gone to college at the University of South Dakota in Vermillion, just about two hours from the rez. She’d gotten her B.A. in Native studies with a minor in political science. When she’d first left home, she’d finally understood what Nick had always talked about. Everyone there had a car and an apartment, it seemed, with nice clothes and computers and stereos. The jealousy had been crushing.
That had changed the day she’d walked into her first political science class. She’d signed up because Nick had already been accepted to law school and she’d assumed that knowing more about politics would be a good way to support his career. But instead, the professor—some leftover relic from the 1960s counterculture—had gone on and on about how a single person could take on the political establishment and change things for the better.
Yeah, that guy had fried half his brain on acid trips back in the day, but that didn’t mean his words carried any less weight with Tanya. It had been then that she’d realized she could make life on the rez better—if she didn’t abandon it. She had to stay and change it from the inside. A fact made all the clearer by her time working as a fry cook. Minimum wage at a dead-end job didn’t help her tribe. It didn’t do her any favors either.
So she’d gotten Councilwoman Emily Mankiller to mentor her and had taken the receptionist job at tribal headquarters after Bear was born so she could have a front-row seat for the local political show. Things had changed now that the tribe had money. Tanya knew that Nick was here for a lawsuit against Midwest Energy, but everything was done behind closed doors or in low whispers. It was clear that Tanya wouldn’t be able to be a part of that conversation—not while she was a receptionist anyway. Some days that irritated her, but the posturing and maneuvering wasn’t her strength. Tanya was more concerned with making sure people had enough to eat and heat in the winter. No back-room plotting needed. Even though she was just the receptionist, she could say she was already making a difference. She kept a running tab on who was about to have their power shut off, who’s health was failing too fast and which kids needed another hot meal. Those were small things, but they counted. Sure, she could make a bigger difference if she had an ally who was good at the behind-closed-doors stuff. In fact, Tanya had always hoped that Nick would bring his fancy law degree back to her and the rez. Together, they could change things for the better. Together, they’d be unstoppable.
But