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Montana Midwife
“He could be the shooter,” Tab said.
“I don’t reckon so. His campsite is another mile or so downriver. He was there when I flew over.” Besides, Aiden had become fairly well acquainted with the old man. “He’s not a murderer. A thief? Maybe. But not a killer.”
Wally claimed to be part Crow, but nobody on the rez claimed him back. A drifter, he’d been in this area for three or four years. When he occasionally showed up at the Gabriel ranch looking for work, Aiden would find him something to do with the stipulation that Buffalo Man take a long soak in a hot tub and shave his whiskers. In a lucid moment, Wally had confided that he’d lost his job, his wife and his house, but he wasn’t sad or self-pitying. He’d chosen to go back to nature.
Usually, he wasn’t so talkative, and today he said nothing as he approached. When he was about five feet from them, Aiden caught the whiff of a powerful stench—the smell of old campfires and dirt. He held up a hand. “That’s close enough, Wally.”
Buffalo Man bared his yellow teeth in a grin. “That’s a pretty horse.”
“Thank you,” Tab said. “Do you live out here?”
“It’s my right. I’m Indian, like you.” He cocked his head to one side. “You’re Maria Spotted Bear’s granddaughter.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know things. Lots of things.”
“You’d better not be spying on my grandma,” she said. “I wouldn’t like that.”
He dug the tips of his ski poles into the earth and planted his fists on his skinny hips. “I am not a Peeping Tom. I have my dignity. You can ask Aiden. Go on, ask him.”
“Wally does work for me at the ranch. He’s a good handyman.”
“Handy Wally, that’s my moniker.”
Aiden watched Tab’s expression as her suspicion faded. It was her nature to be friendly. Her tribe had a tradition of welcoming strangers and sharing whatever they had. She took a step toward Wally and held out her hand as she offered a Crow greeting. “Ka-hay. My name is Tab Willows.”
He vigorously shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Tab.”
“It must get lonely out here. If you’re hungry or want company, come to my grandma’s house.”
“I don’t take charity.”
“I wasn’t offering,” Tab said. “We’ll make a trade. My grandma can use the skills of a handyman.”
His yellow smile split his wizened face. Peering through his tangled mop of hair, his eyes were alert and intelligent. “I would be honored to visit the home of Maria Spotted Bear.”
Though Wally had never shared his prior occupation, Aiden believed he was an educated man. His use of language was usually correct, he had a decent vocabulary and he was smart enough to know how to survive in the wild. His antisocial weirdness came from a lack of interaction with other people. He chose to be a hermit. But that didn’t mean he was nuts.
“I have a couple of questions for you,” Aiden said. “No doubt you noticed the commotion this afternoon.”
“Gunfire. I heard it. And I saw Tab riding across the hills, coming from the east. And the chopper.” He looked up at the fading light of the afternoon. “I saw your chopper. You must have seen me, too. I waved.”
Aiden nodded. “What about people? Did you see or hear any people on the ground?”
Abruptly, Wally hunkered down on the ground. His voice lowered to a whisper. “After the gunfire, I thought I should take a look and see if anybody needed my help. Voices carry a long way out here.”
“Could you hear what anyone was saying?”
Wally pointed to Tab. “You. I heard you talking.”
“What about earlier than that. Before Tab, did you hear voices?”
He shook his head. “I was too far away. When I got close, I heard your baby sister.”
“Misty,” said both Aiden and Tab.
“She laughs a lot.” Wally gave a creaky chuckle of his own. “A pretty sound. Her laughter sounds like splashing water. Not like the other girls who come out here with their boyfriends. They squeal and shout and make a terrible ruckus with their parties.”
Half-Moon Cave had always been a favorite gathering spot for high school parties and make-out sessions. The opening of the cave was a wide arch, similar to a band shell, and the interior provided shelter from the wind and rain. Aiden guessed that if they crossed the river and went to the cave, they’d find the remains of campfires and plenty of rusted beer cans.
“The sheriff is going to be here soon,” Aiden said. “He’s going to want to talk to you about what you saw or heard.”
“No, sir. This is reservation land. I don’t have to talk to the sheriff.”
“Joseph Lefthand will be here, as well,” Tab said. “It’s important to help them. There’s been a murder.”
“I know.” Wally popped up. “I got close enough to see the dead man, and then I turned around. None of my business.”
“Did you know the man who was killed?” Aiden asked.
“I might have seen him before. Once or twice. I see a lot of things. People don’t much notice me.” He looked directly at Tab. “Not that I go out of my way to spy on people. I mind my own business.”
Aiden stepped closer to Wally and looked him straight in the eye, compelling his attention. “Bad things have been happening on or near the rez. Young girls from Henley and Billings are going missing. At least one of them was murdered. Have you seen or heard anything that could lead to the killer?”
“The man who was killed was here with a girl. She had hair like a golden waterfall.”
“If you saw her photo, could you identify her?”
Wally stroked his beard and considered. “It was after dark, and I didn’t really see her face. She was wearing a baby-blue sweatshirt.”
That item of clothing could help identify David Welling’s companion. “Did you hear them talking?”
“He said her name.” Wally tugged harder on his beard. “Ellen or Elizabeth. It was something like that.”
David might have a connection with one of the missing women. And David had been murdered. If Wally stepped forward as a witness, it could put him in danger. He shouldn’t be camping out here by himself.
Aiden patted him on the shoulder of his buffalo robe. “Until this is over, you might want to come and stay at the ranch. My mom has some work for you. She’s going to be putting up Christmas decorations.”
“I’ll come after the weather gets colder,” Wally said. “Right now, it’s nice and warm. The river is low and slow. I go swimming in it every day. Keeps me young.”
Aiden hoped Wally’s outdoor skills would also keep him alive. He hated to think of anything bad happening to the eccentric old man.
AFTER TAB RETURNED TO HER grandma’s house, she took care of Shua and fed the horse in the barn beside the corral. By the time she transferred her medical supplies from the saddlebags into the back of her van, the dusk had turned into dark—a still, calm night. The deep solitude soothed her. Not that she would forget the murder, the threat of a serial killer and the potential of jail time for pregnant Misty. Tab was involved, truly involved, and she was committed to doing whatever she could to help.
But not right this minute. For now, she needed to clear her mind. She inhaled. The cold night air swept into her lungs and refreshed her mind and her spirit.
A few months ago, when she moved back here, she’d been worried that she’d be bored to death. Though the Crow half of her DNA connected her to this land and the traditions of her tribe, she’d spent most of her life in cities like Billings and Missoula where there were things to do and places to go. Not that her social life had ever been a whirlwind of parties and dates. Instead, she’d kept herself busy with her schooling and with work. After graduating from nursing school in Missoula, she’d been part of a midwife clinic that also offered prenatal and postnatal care. She’d learned so much from the other midwives.
Now, she worked alone. She was the expert.
Outside her grandma’s house, she looked up at the moon and the millions of stars that spread their silvery light across the hills and distant cliffs. A couple hundred yards away, she saw the lights from other homes where the Martins and the Tall Grass families lived. The only sound was the rustling of wind across the prairies and the winged swoop of raptor birds hunting in the night.
Light shone through the windows in her grandma’s kitchen where Maria Spotted Bear was probably preparing dinner and not wearing her wrist brace. Though the cast had been removed, Tab wanted Grandma Maria to protect her injured wrist until she was full strength. Twice a day, they performed therapeutic exercises. Every night, her grandma wrapped her wrist in herbal poultices. The same combination of Western medicine and Crow healing practices applied to the pills Grandma took for her heart condition.
As soon as Tab came through the front door, she heard Grandma singing in the kitchen. The stereotype of the stoic tribal elder didn’t hold true for her grandma who always seemed surrounded by music and happy chatter.
Entering the kitchen, Tab saw her grandma remove a tray of cornbread from the oven. The wrist brace was nowhere in sight.
“Don’t worry,” Grandma said as she set the cornbread in the center of the kitchen table. “I can lift this. It’s not too heavy.”
“Smells good.” Tab wasn’t in the mood to argue. She hugged the rounded shoulders of the small woman whose long white hair was fastened at her nape with an ornately beaded barrette. “Do you know the one they call Buffalo Man?”
“A crazy old badger. He lives down by the river.”
“Just to warn you, I kind of invited him to drop by anytime for dinner.”
“That’s my Tabitha.” Her grandma chuckled. “From the time you were a little girl, you were always bringing home strays.”
“His real name is Wally, and he’s willing to work for his supper as a handyman. Having him drop by might be useful. The barn roof needs patching.”
“How did this new friendship happen?” Grandma sat at the kitchen table. “You left the house to deliver a baby, and you picked up an old man in a buffalo robe.”
“Long story.”
“The stew can simmer for a while.”
Not holding back, Tab told the whole story of Misty and the murder, the possible serial killer connection, the chopper and Aiden. When she mentioned his name, she heard a breathless change in her voice. She pictured the tall, lean cowboy, and a rush of excitement went through her. In an attempt to hide that reaction, she turned her back on Grandma and opened the refrigerator door to take out a pitcher of cold water.
“Aiden Gabriel,” her grandma said. “He’s a handsome man.”
“Is he?” Her tone pitched to a higher octave. “I didn’t notice. I was more concerned about his sister.”
“You don’t fool me. When you were a girl and spent the summer at the Gabriel ranch, you liked him, liked him very much.” She sang a little song about sailing away with the man of her dreams. “Didn’t you ask me for a totem to cause a man to fall in love with you?”
Tab didn’t deny it. “I was a silly teenager then.”
“And now, you’re both grown up. Could be good timing. From what I hear, Aiden broke up with his long-time girlfriend. She lives in California and doesn’t care about ranch life.”
Tab poured cold spring water into a Mason jar and took a sip. People who lived on the rez seemed isolated, and yet the gossip grapevine relayed information more quickly than cell phone texting. “How do you know so much about Aiden’s love life?”
“His mother and I see each other often. I bring her baked goods, and Sylvia gives me beef. She’s happy about the blessing of a new baby.”
“It doesn’t bother her that Misty is so young and so unmarried?”
“If anyone understands about unexpected pregnancy, it’s Sylvia Gabriel.” Grandma leaned back in her chair and folded her hands on her lap, a signal that she was about to tell a story. “Sylvia nearly died in childbirth. She had a difficult labor, ending in Caesarian section and a serious loss of blood. But after she had Aiden, she wanted more children. She and her husband tried everything. I know this because she came to me and asked how to increase her fertility.”
Maria Spotted Bear not only had a reputation as an excellent baker but also for healing and cures. Tab had learned young how to locate, harvest and prepare many herbs for teas and salves. “Red clover, squaw berry and yams. Those are all good to promote fertility.”
“Nothing worked and she gave up—satisfied to have a healthy son and a good marriage. Fourteen years later, when Sylvia was thirty-seven years old, she had Misty. A happy surprise.”
Her cell phone buzzed. The screen showed Aiden was the caller. As soon as she saw his name, she remembered that she’d promised to call him when she reached her grandma’s house.
“I’m home,” she said when she picked up. “We’re just about to sit down for dinner.”
“I’m glad, but that’s not why I was calling.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that he trusted her to take care of herself, or to feel bad that he wasn’t checking up on her.
“Misty asked if you could come over to the ranch tonight, maybe in an hour or so. Is that convenient?”
His tone was cool and distant, more appropriate for a business transaction than a personal request. “Aiden, what’s going on?”
“They found another body. She’s from Henley, and her name is Ellen.”
That was the name Wally mentioned. He’d said that Ellen was with David Welling. “A blonde?”
“Yes.”
She heard other voices in the background. They were arguing. “What else?”
“The victim was wearing a gold, engraved wristwatch. It belongs to my sister.”
The link to another murder was bad for Misty. Her story about the mystery gunman who grabbed her rifle and disappeared sounded even more flimsy. Tab didn’t know how she could help other than to offer moral support. Sometimes, that was enough. “I’ll be there.”
Chapter Five
If Tab had gotten her way, she would have tucked her grandma into bed for a solid eight hours of sleep before she left. But Grandma really wanted to come along. She argued that Sylvia Gabriel was a very good friend of the family, and friends take care of friends. What Grandma didn’t say was that these murders were more exciting than anything that had happened since the fire at the casino in Crow Agency.
Sitting in the passenger seat of Tab’s van, she fiddled with the wrist brace Tab had insisted that she wear. “The tribe should have jurisdiction. The dead girl was found on the rez.”
Tab was tired of running through the logistical reasons why Joseph Lefthand couldn’t handle a complicated investigation. She jumped to the bottom line, which was something her grandma—who took part in tribal council—would understand. “It would be expensive. The tribe would have to hire a special coroner to do the autopsies.”
“Are they going to cut that poor girl open?”
Tab shot her a skeptical glance. With her long white braids, patterned wool jacket, long skirt and moccasins, Maria Spotted Bear was just a few head feathers short of playing a tribal elder at the annual reenactment of Custer’s Last Stand. Not an entirely true image. Grandma kept up with the times.
“Don’t pretend that you don’t know about autopsies,” Tab said. “You’ve got television on satellite dish. You’ve watched police shows.”
“And hospital shows to keep up with what you’re doing.” Slyly, she asked, “Are those shows truthful?”
“Yeah, sure,” Tab muttered sarcastically. “Every doctor is gorgeous, and every case is fascinating.”
“You see what I mean? I’ve heard about detectives, but I don’t know what they do.”
Tab shrugged. “Neither do I. Not exactly.”
“I can tell you one thing. To find a killer, you don’t need fancy equipment or autopsies. You need to be smart.” Grandma tapped the side of her head. “A real detective should have the instincts of a hunter.”
“Do you think Joseph Lefthand has those instincts?”
“Better him than Sheriff Steve.”
Tab had met both men at the meeting in Crow Agency. Both seemed decent and hard-working. Both were deeply concerned about the young women who had gone missing. Tab wondered if she ought to be more worried since she and Grandma lived alone without any security other than the rifles they kept in the front closet.
Her van jostled along the back roads between her grandma’s house and the Gabriel ranch. Though Tab hadn’t driven the route in years, she remembered the way. When she spent the summer at the ranch, she’d traveled back and forth many times. Later, on other visits to her grandma, she’d make a point of stopping by to see Misty … and maybe to catch a glimpse of Aiden.
“When was the last time you came to the ranch?” her grandma asked.
“It must have been two years ago. Misty was in high school.” She’d been surprised by Misty’s physical maturity. The little girl she’d once known had become a woman, but she’d still run to greet Tab and give her a massive hug. She hadn’t seen Aiden on that trip.
Her grandma nodded. “After you moved to Missoula for nursing school, you barely had time for me on your visits.”
When Tab came to her grandma’s house, there was usually a specific reason, like taking care of home repairs or making sure her grandma got a checkup with the local doctor. Though Maria Spotted Bear was self-sufficient and didn’t need constant watching over, both Tab and her dad made a point of checking in with Grandma, just to be sure she was okay.
As her van rounded the last curve leading to the Gabriel ranch, Tab saw lights shining from every window of the two-story, cedar-sided ranch house with the peaked roof. Several vehicles parked outside the three-car garage to the left of the house. To the right was a barn with a corrugated metal roof. She knew that Aiden lived in a separate cabin behind the barn. Did he keep his helicopter back there?
She parked her van at the end of a row of cars. From the back, she took a satchel containing a sweet potato pie and the cornbread her grandma had made for their dinner. Maria Spotted Bear never went visiting empty-handed, even though it seemed somewhat inappropriate to bring pie to a murder investigation.
Approaching the house, Tab glanced at the far left upstairs window under the eaves. That had been her bedroom during the summer she’d lived here. She remembered a long-ago night when she couldn’t sleep and had perched on the sill, looking out at the long, straight driveway. She’d spotted Aiden, striding toward the house with his border collie trotting along beside him. For some reason—she’d never known why—he wasn’t wearing a shirt, just his jeans, boots and hat. For a moment, he’d paused. His shoulders rose and fell as though he was sighing. He’d taken off his beat-up Stetson and tilted his head to gaze at the moon. The silvery light bathed him in an ethereal glow—an image that branded itself indelibly in her mind.
Her grandma climbed the three steps to the veranda ahead of her and rapped on the door. A stocky woman in a denim vest opened the door.
“Maria Spotted Bear,” the woman said in an authoritative alto voice. “Is this an official visit? Are you representing the tribal council?”
“I’m here as Sylvia’s friend,” her grandma said. “This is my granddaughter, Tab Willows. Tab, this is Laura Westerfall. She’s with the BIA.”
Briskly, Laura shook Tab’s hand. “You’re the midwife. I’ve been meaning to pay you a visit.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Tab was actually more suspicious than pleased. Agents from the Bureau of Indian Affairs often caused trouble for the tribe.
“You’re a trained nurse, right? And you worked with a women’s clinic in Missoula.”
“Have you been checking up on me?” Tab asked.
“Yes, I have. If you’re planning to stay in this area, I might have a proposition for you. Recently, some grant money has come available for rural medical care, and I’d like to focus on women’s health.”
“On the reservation?” Tab found it hard to believe there would be any significant financial aid for the relatively small Crow population. Any money at all surprised her.
“I’m thinking of a wider area.”
“So am I.” The women in this wide-open country—on and off the rez—had a long way to go to reach a hospital. Many were too poor to afford decent medical care. Even the services of a midwife stretched their budgets. “Are you saying the BIA could help?”
Laura combed her fingers through her short brown hair and smiled as she held out her business card. “Give me a call. We need to talk about a women’s clinic.”
In spite of the current problems, Tab’s spirits lifted as she imagined being able to help those who had so few resources. A grant from the BIA might be a dream come true.
Grandma interrupted her thoughts, taking the satchel with the pie and cornbread from her hands. “Where are your manners, girl? I came here to comfort Sylvia.”
“In the kitchen,” Laura said.
“I’ll take care of her,” Grandma promised. “You two should go into the living room. The boys sound like they’re arguing, getting ready to lock horns.”
Through an archway to the left was a paneled living room with heavy leather furniture and rugged coffee tables. In front of the moss rock fireplace, Sheriff Steve Fielding stood toe to toe with Aiden. Since the sheriff wasn’t much taller than Tab, Aiden towered over him and the two deputies he’d brought with him.
Aiden’s voice was a low, dangerous growl. “I see no valid reason to take my sister into custody.”
“If that’s the only way you’ll let me talk to her, I’ve got no damn choice.” The sheriff waved his men into action. “Deputies, I want you to arrest—”
“Hold on.” Laura inserted herself into their argument. “What’s the problem, gentlemen?”
Aiden spoke first. “I wanted Sheriff Fielding to handle this investigation because I believed he was better equipped to pursue the trail of evidence in a thorough manner. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe all he wants is a quick arrest.”
“You’re the one who’s wrong,” Fielding said. “I came here to talk to Misty. Just to talk. I need some answers.”
“You already took her statement.”
“That cockamamie story about a mysterious shooter?”
“I won’t have you harassing my sister. She’s been through enough today.”
Though Tab agreed that Misty shouldn’t be subjected to more stress, she realized that Aiden was behaving in an unreasonable manner. And his overprotective attitude made it look like he had something to hide. “I have a compromise. What if the sheriff questions Misty while Aiden is present?”
The sheriff pointed his long, sunburned nose at her and squinted like someone who needed glasses. “You’re Tab Willows, right? I need to take your statement.”
“I’m happy to cooperate,” she said.
“But that’s not why you came here.” His squint became even more pronounced. “You live with Maria Spotted Bear. Are you here to speak for your tribe?”
The politics were getting annoying. Just because Tab was half Crow, it didn’t automatically make her a representative of her people. She was miles out of touch with local issues. Most of her life had been spent in Billings and Missoula. Not on the rez.
“I’m here as a concerned person,” she said. “Young women are being murdered and their bodies dumped on the rez. I want to see the killer brought to justice.”
“That’s the voice of common sense,” Laura said, backing her up. “Listen to her.”
“You have no standing here, Agent Westerfall.” The sheriff hitched up his belt. “You arranged for Joseph Lefthand to cede jurisdiction. This is my purview.”
“Don’t forget that I’m a federal agent, Sheriff. I’m not here to give orders, but I see no reason why we can’t do as Tab suggested.”
“Here’s your reason,” the sheriff said. “I can’t get the truth from Misty while she’s hiding behind her big brother.”
Before Aiden exploded again with righteous anger, Tab grasped his forearm and squeezed hard, compelling his attention. He wasn’t helping anything by being pigheaded. She stared into his eyes. “I’ll be with Misty while she’s talking to the sheriff. Is that all right with both of you?”