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 with bola stones, chippers and other stone tools and pottery fashioned by long-dead hands.
Her new phone number was unlisted, but Tate called her once at the museum. She put the phone down, gently but firmly. He didn’t call again.
Senator Holden did. “It’s my birthday Saturday night,” he said. “I want you and Colby to come.”
“He’s out of town. But I’d love to.”
“Great! We can talk about some new projects I’ve got in mind.”
“We can?” she asked, grinning because she knew how much he loved the museum; it had been his idea to open it. He was a fanatic in the field of Native American culture. He wasn’t Sioux, but his mother had taught on the Wapiti Sioux reservation. Like Cecily, he had an affinity for the Lakota nation.
He chuckled. “I’ll tell you all about it on Saturday. Six sharp at my house. Don’t be late. It’s a buffet.”
“I won’t eat for days,” she promised.
When she hung up she realized what she’d said. She did eat more frugally than before. She spent more frugally than before. Her surroundings weren’t lavish. But she wasn’t having to depend on anyone’s charity. She was twenty-five and self-supporting. It felt good.
Cecily phoned Leta to let her know that she planned to fly out to Rapid City and drive over to the Wapiti Ridge Sioux Reservation near Custer State Park in South Dakota for the tribe’s annual celebrations. There would be a large contingent of Lakota at the three-day September event, and native dancing and singing as well. She’d already bought her plane ticket and reserved a rental car. She wasn’t going to back out of the event just because she and Tate weren’t speaking. Anyway, there wasn’t a chance that Tate would go now.
“Tate hasn’t called recently,” Leta mentioned when they’d discussed the event. “I phoned to see if he was at his apartment, and that Audrey Gannon answered. She told me he was out of the country on some job for his boss, Pierce Hutton.”
Cecily felt a lump in her throat. She swallowed before she replied. “I didn’t know she was living with him,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“He’s secretive, isn’t he, baby? I guess he must feel something for her,” Leta replied irritably. “She hates what he is, she hates the reservation and she was barely civil to me when I told her who I was. If he’s as crazy about her as she says he is, she could
