LITMIR.BIZ

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Holden doesn’t favor allowing a casino on the Wapiti reservation. Tate does. They’ve almost come to blows on the issue twice.”

      “So I heard. And that’s not all I’ve heard. Holden is sticking his nose into a hornet’s nest in the Indian Affairs committee, and he’s had some public and all but slanderous things to say about the push for a casino at Wapiti.”

      “There are other Sioux casinos in South Dakota,” she replied. “But Senator Holden is fighting this one all the way. Nobody knows why. He and Tate have had some real battles over this.”

      “That’s just an excuse and you know it. Tate hates the man.” Colby pushed back a strand of straight black hair that fell into his eyes. Unlike Tate, his hair was short. “I know I said this before, but it bears repeating. You know Tate won’t like you staying with me.”

      “I don’t care,” she said bitterly. “I don’t tell him where to sleep. It’s none of his business what I do anymore.”

      He made a rough sound. “Would you like to guess what he’s going to assume if you stay the night in my apartment?”

      She drew in a long breath. “Okay. I don’t want to cause problems between you, not after all the years you’ve been friends. Take me to a hotel instead.”

      He hesitated uncharacteristically. “I can take the heat, if you can.”

      “I don’t know that I can. I’ve got enough turmoil in my life right now. Besides, he’ll look for me at your place. I don’t want to be found for a couple of days, until I can get used to my new situation and make some decisions about my future. I want to see Senator Holden and find another apartment. I can do all that from a hotel.”

      “Suit yourself.”

      “Make it a moderately priced one,” she added with graveyard humor. “I’m no longer a woman of means. From now on, I’m going to have to be responsible for my own bills.”

      “You should have poured the soup in the right lap,” he murmured.

      “Which was?”

      “Audrey Gannon’s,” he said curtly. “She had no right to tell you that Tate was your benefactor. She did it for pure spite, to drive a wedge between you and Tate. She’s nothing but trouble. One day Tate is going to be sorry that he ever met her.”

      “She’s lasted longer than the others.”

      “You haven’t spent enough time talking to her to know what she’s like. I have,” he added darkly. “She has enemies, among them an ex-husband who’s living in a duplex because she got his house, his Mercedes, and his Swiss bank account in the divorce settlement.”

      “So that’s where all those pretty diamonds came from,” she said wickedly.

      “Her parents had money, too, but they spent most of it before they died in a plane crash. She likes unusual men, they say, and Tate’s unusual.”

      “She won’t go to the reservation to see Leta,” she commented.

      “Of course not.” He leaned toward her as he stopped at a traffic light. “It’s a Native American reservation!”

      She stuck her tongue out at him. “Leta’s worth two of Audrey.”

      “Three,” he returned. “Okay. I’ll find you a hotel. Then I’m leaving town before Tate comes looking for me!”

      “You might hang a crab on your front door,” she said, tongue-in-cheek. “It just might ward him off.”

      “Ha!”

      She turned her eyes toward the bright lights of the city. She felt cold and alone and a little frightened. But everything would work out. She knew it would. She was a grown woman and she could take care of herself. This was her chance to prove it.

      Chapter Two

      There was film at eleven. Senator Holden found it hilarious, and when Cecily phoned to ask him about the job at the new museum that he’d offered her, he told her so. He didn’t ask any questions. He accepted her application over the phone and gave her the job on the spot.

      Early Monday morning, Cecily found a small apartment that she could manage on the salary she’d be making and she moved out of the apartment Tate had been paying for. She pulled out of her master’s classes and withdrew from college. From now on, she was paying her own way. And one day, she’d pay Tate back, every penny. For the time being, shell-shocked and sick at heart that she was nothing more than a charity case to him, she wanted no more to do with the man she’d loved for so long. No wonder he’d thought of her as his ward. She was obligated to him for every crumb she put in her mouth. But no more. She was her own woman now. She’d support herself. Maybe later she could finish her master’s degree. She had plenty of time for that. At least she had a job to see her through this difficult transition.

      She was forced to use her small bank account to pay the deposit on the new apartment, to pay for movers to transport her few possessions and for enough food to keep her going until she drew her first paycheck. She was so sick at heart that she hated the whole world. She couldn’t even talk to Tate’s mother, Leta.

      The new apartment was small, and not much to look at, but at least she’d be responsible for herself. Unlike the old one, it was unfurnished, so she started out with very little. She didn’t even have a television set. At least the new place was closer to the museum. She could ride the bus to work every day, or even take the metro if she liked.

      Colby came by to help her unpack, bringing a pizza with him and a small boom box with some cassettes as a house-warming present. They munched while they unwrapped lamps and dishes, sipping beer because it was all he brought for them to drink.

      “I hate beer,” she moaned.

      “If you drink enough of it, you won’t care about the taste,” he assured her.

      She gave the can a dubious stare, shrugged, closed her eyes, held her breath and drank heavily. “Yuck!” she said.

      “Keep going.”

      She finished half of the can and ate some more pizza. After a few minutes, sure enough, it didn’t taste half-bad.

      He watched her grin and nodded. “That’s the first smile I’ve seen in days.”

      “I’m getting through it,” she assured him. “I start work next Monday. I can’t wait.”

      “I wish I could be around to hear about your first day, but I’ve got another overseas assignment.”

      She suspended the pizza at her mouth. Putting it down, she said worriedly, “Colby, you’ve already lost an arm…”

      “And it will make me more careful,” he told her. “I lost it because I got drunk. I won’t let that happen again.” He glanced at the can. “Beer doesn’t affect me these days. It’s just a pleasant diversion.” He looked at her. “I’m through my worst time. Now I’m going to help you through yours. When I get back.”

      She grimaced. “Well, don’t get killed, okay?”

      He chuckled. “Okay.”

      

      During Colby’s absence, she celebrated her twenty-fifth birthday with a cupcake, a candle and a card from Leta, who never forgot. Tate apparently had, or he was holding a grudge. For the first time in eight years, her birthday passed unnoticed by him.

      She was now firmly entrenched at the museum and having the time of her life. She missed college and her classmates, but she loved the work she was doing. Acquisitions would be part of her duties as assistant curator, and she got to work in her own forensic archaeology field, Paleo-Indian archaeology. She didn’t really miss forensics as much as she’d expected to. It was almost as exciting to have access to rare collections of Folsom Clovis, and other projectile points, which were thousands of years old, along

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