Father By Surprise

Of course, the flip side of the game he played in Chicago was that anything you said and did could be used against you, too. What would Marcus Sutcliffe think if he knew Nick had fathered a disabled bastard? More than likely, he’d scoff in an unsurprised way and say something like, “What do you expect from one of those Indians?”

Even thinking about Bear like that made Nick feel sick to his stomach. How could he define his own son that way? He knew the answer—that’s how it would look in court. But that would be the same as dismissing Nick as the token Indian. No way was he going to let people slap a label on his son, because the moment they did that, Bear would spend the rest of his life trying to live that label down.

Nick looked down at the boy, his thumb in his mouth, his eyes half-closed. That tightness hit his chest again. He would do whatever it took to make sure that Bear wasn’t dismissed. He needed a voice, and Nick was in the position to give him one.

Did Tanya understand anything about the games Nick was used to playing? She couldn’t, because she’d never shown up in Chicago with the baby. A person with less-than-sterling morals would have made dangerous threats of exposure in hope of extracting some money. Extortion was the legal term, but it would be blackmail, pure and simple. Nick saw it happen all the time.

But Tanya wasn’t like all those other people. It was apparent that she had no idea how much power she held in this situation. And even if she did, he didn’t think she’d use it. Somehow, despite her dirt-poor upbringing and barely-getting-by lifestyle, she had managed to remain pure and uncompromised. Hell, she’d even tried to refuse his gifts, despite how much she obviously needed them. Nick couldn’t remember the last time he’d dealt with a person who wouldn’t play the game. While it was refreshing to know that she couldn’t be bought, it left Nick with the unsettled feeling of knowing the rules had changed but not knowing what they’d changed to.

Nick’s morals were just shy of sterling. Maybe he’d played the Chicago games long enough that he’d been permanently tarnished. Winning primary custody of Bear would be easy—he could steamroll Tanya in a courtroom without breaking a sweat. He could get his son out of this hellhole of a rez and take him to Chicago. He could give Bear the finest medical care, the best schools, the nicest things—all the advantages that Nick had only dreamed about as a kid. He didn’t need Tanya’s permission. He could do whatever he wanted. Part of him wanted to do just that—show her exactly what he’d accomplished without her. She hadn’t let him give her a better life—that was her problem. But Nick didn’t have to let her withhold that life from Bear. In fact, he could make a strong argument that it was his moral imperative to gain primary custody of his son. He had worked his butt off for the last four years, amassing a small fortune and an unstoppable reputation. The least he could do was to share the benefits of all his hard work with his son. Then, maybe Tanya would finally realize that he hadn’t been selfishly focused on himself, but working for a life they could live together.

But he didn’t want to steamroll her. He didn’t want to be the one who took everything she held most dear and ground it into the dirt. Maybe it was being back under the wide South Dakota sky, or maybe it was the little boy who was almost asleep in his arms, but Nick didn’t want to win at all costs this time. Oh, he still wanted to win, but he didn’t want to salt the earth behind him. Tanya had always meant something to him. He didn’t want to destroy that. He didn’t want to destroy her.

He tried to set Bear down just like Tanya had done the other night, but got his arms crossed up and wound up flopping the kid onto the bed. He froze, terrified he had just woken the baby up again, but after an extra-deep sigh, the little guy rolled over. Nick looked to Tanya, hoping to see approval or a smile on her face, but was surprised to see that she’d already turned away. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was sprinting down the small hallway.

Moving as quietly as he could, Nick followed. By the time he got the bedroom door shut, she was out the front door. Oh, no. No way she was going to run away from him now.

At the very least, they had to work out a visitation schedule, and he had to know more about Bear’s health—especially if he was going to start paying the medical bills. Tanya was still healthy, and Nick had never had any issues. It couldn’t be normal for Bear to have so many massive health issues. There had to be an external cause. Maybe it was just because Nick had litigated so many major pollution cases, but his first thought was that that external cause was environmental. What were the odds that Bear’s silence was connected to the contamination of the groundwater that the tribe maintained had occurred as a result of Midwest Energy’s fracking?

But if that was the case, why wasn’t Tanya just as sick? That was the part that didn’t make sense to Nick, so he had no justifications for jumping to conclusions. He wasn’t going to rule anything out yet. All this meant was that he needed to do a little more research. The boy was going to have to get tested. If there was a chance he could be cured or fixed or whatever, Nick had to make sure that happened. And if the results happened to bolster his case, well, he’d have another piece of evidence in his pocket.

But environmental concerns were not the real reason he took off after Tanya. Despite it all—her rejection of him, the hidden baby with health problems, the adversarial tone to their interactions—he wanted her. While he was fully aware that she’d kissed him out of self-defense the other night, there was no way she’d faked the heat that had flowed between them. He could still taste her desire on his lips. All that was complicated and tense had disappeared in that hot moment until he’d forgotten about lawsuits and reservations and everything that wasn’t Tanya. He needed Tanya. It wasn’t any more complicated than that.

Except it was. It always had been. Maybe it always would be, because by the time he caught up to her, she was standing next to his Jaguar, arms crossed and an unassailable look on her face.

Right. As much as he wanted to feel her body in his arms again, if he forced the issue, he would do more harm than good. He couldn’t let her know that he needed her more than she needed him. Never ever show weakness. “Like I said, I was having a little trouble with the car seat.”

“Have you considered that the problem wasn’t the seat, but your car?” She spoke stiffly, but he could still hear a tiny tease in her voice.

He was glad to hear that tease, however small. “Are you suggesting that a two-seater convertible is not the ideal family car?”

“We aren’t a family,” she snapped, then took a step forward and wrenched the passenger door open.

Nick sighed. She wasn’t going to make this easy on him, but he supposed he had that coming. “I read the instructions,” he offered. “I couldn’t find the LATCH things it said to use.”

She hauled the car seat from where he’d wedged it in the passenger seat and set it on the ground. “Because car seats don’t go in the front.” She gave his Jaguar another once-over. Most women—in fact, all women—swooned over his car. Proof positive that Tanya wasn’t like anyone else, he figured. “But I see you are sadly lacking in a backseat, so…”

Then she flipped the car seat around and shoved it back into the car. After several unproductive pushes, she turned around, and, hands on hips, gave him a stern look. Her hair had come loose from her braid and floated around her face, and her cheeks were pink from the effort. Heaven help him, she was beautiful. He hadn’t guessed she could be more attractive than he remembered her, but those curves, that fire in her eyes—he had a few more less-than-sterling thoughts.

“You push from this side,” she said, slipping around the back of the car before he could do anything rash like kiss her.

Before he understood what she was doing, Tanya had climbed in through the driver’s-side door and was hauling on the car seat. Then he heard it—the sickening sound of plastic scraping against his custom burl-walnut dash. “Stop!”

She paused. “It’s the only way to get it in.” The way she said it made it clear that she thought he was choosing the car over the kid.

He wanted to tell her that it was a very expensive car, but he knew that observation wouldn’t go over real well. Instead he leaned over the seat, making sure to brace it so she couldn’t keep scraping up his woodwork. “He shouldn’t be riding in the front seat anyway.” Clearly, he was going to have to rethink this plan. “Maybe you could bring him out to my place this weekend?”

Tanya’s eyes bored into him. He realized that his face was less than a foot from hers. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I have plans.”

Her tone kept rubbing him the wrong way. Yes, he had earned a little flack, but that didn’t give her the right to treat him like the enemy. She was just as much a culpable party in this as he was. She’d stayed here of her own choice, so she could quit treating him like he’d abandoned her. As far as he could tell, he was not the bad guy here, and the sooner she stopped treating him like he was, the easier things would be. “This may come as a surprise to you, but not everything I say is a direct attack on you.”

She held his gaze without flinching. He leveled his most effective glare at her, and she met him head-on. Despite the attitude, he was impressed that she didn’t buckle. “So you’re leaving indirect attacks on the table.”

He was about to cut her down to size—he did not need all this resistance in his life—but then the corner of her mouth curved up and the angry lines faded from around her eyes. And just like that, she was radiant.

The air between them seemed to thin, making it hard to breathe. Relinquishing his grip on the car seat, he reached up and smoothed an escaped strand of hair away from her face before he cupped her cheek in his hand. “I have missed you, Tanya.”

She leaned into his touch, her eyelids fluttering—but not quite closing. Instead, she opened them wide. The confrontation was gone; instead, he saw desire just below the surface. This time, it wasn’t hiding behind ulterior motives. It was right out where he could see it.

“I don’t have to love you.” She tried to throw his words back at him, but she couldn’t stop the way her voice shook. He could feel that tremor through his hand. It was a small thing, but he still felt it throughout his entire body.

Mentally, he pumped his fist in victory. For once, she didn’t have a barb ready to throw at him. “But you still care for me, don’t you?” You still want me is what he really wanted to ask, but that would be pushing too far, too fast. Besides, Tanya was smart enough to know what he’d really been asking.

She dropped her gaze, her face flushing with a different sort of heat. Nick could hear the yes on her breath. He could see it in her eyes. But she didn’t say it. Instead, she pulled away and backed out of the car.

He’d lost her. Maybe she was better at playing this game than he thought. But he wouldn’t let his disappointment show. Part of playing the game was not letting the other side know when they had you on the ropes. He stood. Tanya stood by the driver’s door. He could feel the weight of her expectations. He just wasn’t sure what she expected of him. She wanted him, that much was clear. But she didn’t trust him. Though she seemed open to letting him spend more time with Bear. Maybe he’d been wrong earlier—this situation wasn’t as black-and-white as he wanted it to be. Not for her anyway. “I’d still like to see Bear this weekend.” Of course, he’d like to see Tanya, too, and preferably without a car between them.

“You’re welcome to come with us.”

Was he mistaken, or was there a challenge in her eyes? “Sure, I could do that. Where are you going?”

No, he wasn’t mistaken. She was throwing down the gauntlet. “There’s a powwow in Platte.” Her smile grew menacing. “I’m sure everyone would love to see you again.”

Nick’s mouth ran dry. He’d been to powwows before. He’d done his fair share of dancing. But that had been a long time ago. A lifetime ago, some would say.

Powwows were big deals on the rez. Everyone came for the food and the dancing. Which meant everyone would be there. All those people who he hadn’t seen in years—people who still lived in crappy trailers, who still drank themselves into a stupor. His family would be there.

Everything he’d tried to escape.

Tanya was waiting on an answer. Nick knew he should say something smooth, something that wouldn’t knock her opinion of him down another notch—“Sounds great” would be a good start—but he couldn’t do it. It was bad enough to work in a hole of a broom closet, worse to see his son living in near-poverty. He couldn’t bring himself to willingly lower himself any more. He was not going to be one of “those Indians,” damn it. Not for Tanya. Not even for Bear. Not for anyone.

And to think, just a half hour ago, Nick had been sure Tanya didn’t play any games. Well, she’d played him—right into a corner. And the only way out was through her.

So he went on the offensive. He couldn’t help it. She had him trapped, so he had to do an end-run. “How many of those people know I’m Bear’s father? No one at the office seems to have a clue.”

It worked. “What?”

“My own mother never mentioned you had a kid. Did you tell people you had a one-night stand after a weekend of drinking? Immaculate conception? Who did you name as the father?”

If he were half the lawyer he thought he was, he wouldn’t be letting the crestfallen look on her face make him feel the slightest bit guilty. She’d backed him into a corner—he’d just returned the favor. He should not feel bad for her.

But he did, damn it all. Her eyes watered, but he had to admire her self-control, which kept those tears from spilling over. “He was small,” she said, the fierceness in her voice at odds with the wounded expression on her face. “People assumed he was premature. No one suspects you.” She spat the last word out like she’d expected to eat some chocolate and gotten a Brussels sprout instead. “And I don’t expect you to come to the powwow. I wouldn’t want you to debase yourself. God forbid you act like an Indian, Nick. God forbid you be an Indian.”

He watched her storm back into her dinky house and slam the door. At least he’d been right about one thing. No one in Chicago talked to him like Tanya did.

He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

Chapter 6

Tanya walked around the outside of the dance circle. Well, walked was a strong word. She lurched around it, with Bear holding on to both of her hands as he smiled at everyone and every thing—even a bear headdress got a grin. The elders sitting in lawn chairs patted Bear on the head; a few dancers in full regalia swooped him up and spun him around. The red, black and yellow fringe on Bear’s dance shirt whipped around him, almost as if the yarn was laughing out loud for him.

She loved coming to the powwows. When she’d been younger, she’d competed in the fancy shawl dance, her fringe spinning as much as Bear’s did this afternoon. However, now that she was older, she preferred to do the traditional dance. The fringe still swayed, but not with the same fervor.

Tanya chatted with people as they made the rounds. Socializing was a huge part of the powwow, but she also took mental notes on who needed to have a hot meal delivered or who was in danger of having their power shut off this winter. One of the reasons she stuck with the receptionist job at the Tribal Council was that Councilwoman Mankiller would sit down with her once a month and listen to Tanya’s “news from the front,” as she called it. If there was enough money in the budget, Councilwoman Mankiller authorized Tanya to pay an electric bill or do the grocery shopping for the elders. It wasn’t a lot, but Tanya could say she was making life better for her tribe, one meal at a time. That was why she’d wanted to be on the Council in the first place—once she had some real power, she’d be able to move up from one meal, one bill at a time to wider initiatives. She’d love to get a real grocery store opened on the rez—that would bring in some local jobs and provide better food choices than what was available at the Qwik-E Mart gas station. But she had to build up considerable political capital to do that. That was why she hadn’t taken Rosebud Armstrong up on her offer to be the legal secretary for her private practice. Tanya had to pay her dues, and she wanted to stay on the front lines where she could make a difference now.

Of course, her position as a receptionist in the Council office was also good on-the-job training for when Tanya ran for the Council. She had already learned which members always voted no, which ones were vulnerable and which ones were untouchable in an election. She hoped that in two or three years, she’d be in a solid position to make her first run. And part of solidifying that position was making a positive impression on both the voting members of the tribe and the Council itself now, although she hated to qualify her good deeds in such a selfish way. She was making a dent—that was what really counted.

Still, Nick’s presence had complicated things—and that was putting it mildly. She’d never been able to say no to him, so the fact that she hadn’t let him kiss her the other night was, well, weird. Tanya was proud of herself for not letting Nick charm her into something she would regret. She was sticking to her guns. It made her feel surprisingly grown-up.

But she also felt terrible, and she wasn’t exactly sure why. Nick was trying—in his materialistic kind of way—and she felt as if she was slamming every door in his face. She wanted to be glad to see him. She wanted to be happy he was interested in their son. She desperately wanted something good to come out of this. What, she didn’t know. Maybe that was the problem.

The emcee called for all dancers to line up for the opening dance. Tanya slow-walked Bear to the end of the line, where he tried to grab the jingle cones off the dress in front of him. Everyone laughed, and Tanya had a moment of profound peace with the situation. She belonged here, and so did Bear. This place, these traditions, these people—they were a part of her. She wouldn’t turn her back on them.

The emcee was in the middle of the opening prayer when Tanya felt something change, like lightning had struck nearby. She glanced around, but no one else seemed to notice the strange charge to the air.

Then she saw him. Nick Longhair was on the other side of the circle watching her. He had one boot-clad foot on the lowest rung of the fence, and an expensive-looking cowboy hat tipped back on his head. The jeans were dark, the T-shirt was tight and the belt buckle shone in the sunlight. He looked like the old Nick, dressed up fancy for a big date. A more expensive version of the old Nick, that was. But the sight of him was enough to make her light-headed. Not the old Nick. A better Nick.

Tanya gasped when his eyes locked on to hers. He’d come. He was really here. Or she was hallucinating, but if this was a dream, it was the best dream she could imagine. He wasn’t so ashamed of his heritage that he wouldn’t even put in an appearance at a powwow. He wasn’t so ashamed of her that he wouldn’t be seen in public with her.

The drumming started, and the line began to move into the dance circle. Nick stayed where he was. A few people came up to talk to him, and from what Tanya could see as she and the other dancers moved around the circle, Nick was being friendly instead of standoffish. He shook hands and slapped the backs of a couple of guys who Tanya recognized as old classmates. He even seemed to smile as people pointed to his short hair. He didn’t look resentful or act like he was here against his will. Maybe he was faking it—she wouldn’t put it past him, not after she’d seen the look of horror on his face when she’d suggested he come to the powwow in the first place. But if he was faking it, at least he had the decency to fake it well.

Finally, the opening dance ended. Nick had moved around to the entrance to wait for them. “Hiya, Tanya.” He had the gall to tip his hat.

That irritating light-headedness got less light. She could feel the pressure of dozens of eyeballs boring into her back. Everyone knew they’d once been an item. Everyone knew she had a child. As far as everyone knew, Nick didn’t know about Bear until this very moment.

Clearly, everyone was waiting for a scene.

Tanya was frozen. She should do something—what, exactly, eluded her—but she couldn’t even open her mouth. Nick didn’t jump into the gap either. He stood with his hands on his hips, a smile that was more of a challenge than a greeting on his face. Your move, his dancing eyes seemed to say to her. But she had no move to make.

Good Lord, the whole crowd of people around them was silent. The drummers weren’t even drumming, which meant there was no sound to drown out the pounding of her heart. She didn’t have a plan B. Hell, she wasn’t sure she had a plan A, unless passing out from confusion was a plan. If it was, it wasn’t a good one, that much she knew.

Bear was the one who broke the tension, God bless the boy. He began clapping and waving at Nick, clearly remembering the nice man who came with toys. “Hi, guy,” Nick said as he plopped his cowboy hat down on Bear’s small head.

A good-natured chuckle passed through the crowd, the drummers picked up the next drumbeat and the powwow moved on.

Tanya didn’t, though. Dumbstruck, she couldn’t do much more than keep a grip on Bear. Part of her brain noted that this particular reaction probably meshed well with the fallacy that Nick hadn’t seen the boy before. But mostly she was relieved that the spotlight had shifted off her.

“I can’t believe you came.” Dang it all, her voice came out quiet and wobbly.

“I think I was invited,” was all the response she got.

They couldn’t keep standing here. Even if the crowd wasn’t collectively holding their breaths, people were still watching—and waiting for something to happen. “Um, Mom’s got a spot this way, if you want to come say hi.”

“I’d love to see Doreen.” Again, there was that sincerity that Tanya wasn’t sure was entirely sincere. Still, it was something to do that moved them away from the crowd, so Tanya headed back to where Mom had spread out her picnic blanket and set up folding chairs. The spot was tucked away on the north side of the dance circle, underneath a pair of scrawny pine trees that provided little shade.

Mom sat in one of the chairs, fanning her face with a folded paper plate. It wasn’t that hot. Tanya’s mortification veered off into concern. Mom’s headaches were getting worse and worse.

However, when she saw Tanya and Nick heading straight for her, Mom sat up and managed a pleasant smile. Of course, Mom knew that Nick was Bear’s father. Tanya couldn’t have kept that secret from her own mother if she’d tried. “Nick Longhair, as I live and breathe!”

Tanya couldn’t help sighing. Mom was going to do this over the top. She loved her mother, she really did, but she didn’t see how Mom’s reaction would make this situation less awkward.

“Hello, Doreen. How are you doing?” Nick walked over and put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s great to see you.”

Tanya looked around, noting how many people were keeping tabs on the situation. Only fifteen or so. Not everyone, but enough that the gossips would find plenty of firsthand accounts.

“Missed seeing you around,” Mom said, pulling off a good, stern tone as she looked at Bear.

“I think I’ll be around a lot more now.” Nick’s voice was smooth as he took Bear from Tanya’s arms. He tickled the baby under the chin, then tossed him up in the air. Bear threw his arms and legs out, the wide smile on his face as loud as any scream of delight.

Was that his real, sincere answer—or was he just telling Mom what she wanted to hear? Tanya so much wanted to believe that he meant it, but she couldn’t forget what he’d said just the other night—he’d be here for a year at least. Sure, he’d be around a lot more—for a year. But after that?