Raven-Walking, who’d taken her in without hesitation and raised her as their own daughter. Since they had lived on the Crow Indian reservation, some of Meredith’s earliest memories revolved around great celebrations and ceremonial occasions, her great-uncle in full Crow regalia. Meredith used to own a buckskin dress and a beaded headband that a Crow cousin had made for her. It seemed forever ago, now. Once painful, these memories had became bearable. The past was a safe place. Unchanged. Nothing could alter it. The good memories lived inside her, like the love she still had for the dark-eyed man who looked like her son.
She got off the bus near the house she’d bought for Great-Aunt Mary. It was a beautiful September evening, just right for walking. She enjoyed the invigorating cool weather. But snow wasn’t far off, just another month or so. In this part of the world, it could be more than an inconvenience. Out in the isolated rural areas, it could be deadly to animals and humans alike when huge drifts of snow blocked roads and made travel impossible for long periods of time.
Amazing, she thought, how far she’d come from the ragged little girl living in the matchbox house on the Crow reservation with her relatives. She was wealthy now. No more homemade dresses and secondhand shoes. All the same, her childhood had been full of love. That was surely worth more than all the money in the world. Remembering those good days with her kin had made her keenly aware of the plight of the people on the reservation. She regularly contributed to causes that would benefit the Plains Indians, and she still did her share of gift giving to her cousins and their families. With no return address, of course. It was still only a drop in the bucket to what was needed. But every little bit helped. Family was family.
She locked the door behind her and sat down on the sofa, her eyelids falling listlessly. But she couldn’t go to sleep. She had to call home. She’d promised Blake that she would.
Drowsily, she dialed the number direct and waited for Mr. Smith to answer it.
“Tennison residence,” his gravelly voice greeted.
She smiled. “Hi, Mr. Smith,” she said lazily. “How’s everything?”
He chuckled. “Blake flushed his rubber duck down the toilet. Not to worry, I rushed out and bought him another. The plumber unstopped the overflow. Everything’s fine.” There was a pause. “How are you?”
“I’m working,” she replied. “I got this great job waitressing at a local restaurant. I make minimum wage plus tips, isn’t that great?”
There was a longer pause. “You have a job?”
“Just temporary. It’s Cy Harden’s restaurant, you see. Proximity to the enemy may give me a small advantage while I search out his weak spots.”
“Be careful that he doesn’t find yours,” he cautioned. “Don’s here. He had to get some papers from your desk. Want to talk to him?”
She frowned. Odd that Don would be at her home this time of night. “Yes.”
Don picked up the line, sounding a little uncertain. “Nice to hear from you,” he said. “I, uh, had to have the Jordan file. You brought it home.”
Her brows knitted. “I was working on the Jordan merger. You know that. Why do you want it?”
“Jordan and Cane insisted that we get the deal through this week. Unless you want to fly up here to ramrod it…?”
“No,” she said abruptly. “Of course not. Go ahead. I should have phoned you earlier about that, but it slipped my mind.”
“That’s a first,” he said.
“I suppose so. You’ll still need my signature, won’t you?”
“Yes. You can fax it….”
“I don’t have a fax machine,” she said. She grimaced. “Send the papers express. I’ll have them back within a day.”
“Will do. You need a fax machine.”
“I know. Mr. Smith can bring it out next week and fetch my office equipment with him. I may be here for a few weeks, but I’ll make sure the business doesn’t suffer because of it. I can handle my end at night. I’ll call in every day and check on everything at the office.”
“Are you sure such a long absence is wise?” Don asked cautiously.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she said darkly. “Listen, Don, I’m not some flighty female with no business sense, and you know it. Henry taught me everything he knew.”
“Yes, he did, didn’t he?”
Don sounded bitter. Meredith wondered sometimes if he didn’t resent having part of his brother’s corporation headed by an outsider. He was pleasant enough, but there had always been a little distance between them, as if he didn’t quite trust her.
“I won’t let you down,” she said. “This mineral deal is the most important thing I have on my agenda, regardless of how much time it takes. If I can find a weakness in Harden’s stranglehold on the property, I can take advantage of it.”
“Are you sure that it’s the corporation you’re concerned with, and not taking vengeance on Harden himself?”
She didn’t answer that. “I’m glad to have the Jordan matter dealt with. Will you put Mr. Smith back on, please?”
He cleared his throat. “Of course. I’m sorry if I sounded antagonistic. I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”
“Yes. I know how it is.”
“Meredith, are you sure Smith should have that iguana running loose in the house? The thing weighs almost ten pounds, and it’s got claws like a cat and teeth like a snake….”
“Tiny is part of the family,” she said simply. “She doesn’t bother anything. She just sits on the back of Mr. Smith’s chair until she’s hungry, then she goes to the kitchen and eats her vegetables. She has a litter box in the bathroom, which she uses, and she never attacks anybody. Blake loves her, too.”
“It’s unnatural, having a big reptile slithering around everywhere. The plumber screamed when he came to unstop the commode. Tiny was sitting under the shower, having a bath.”
“Poor plumber,” she murmured, smothering a giggle.
“Yes, well, he said not to call him again. See what I mean? That reptile is a menace.”
“Tell that to Mr. Smith. I’d do it from behind a door, though.”
“I see what you mean. All right. Your house, your problem.”
“It should have been your house, Don,” she said unexpectedly. “I’m sorry it worked out this way. You’re Henry’s brother, his only blood relative. The bulk of the estate should have been yours.”
Don sighed sharply. “Henry had the right to do what he pleased with it,” he said, and the hostility abruptly left his voice, to be replaced by a tone that was almost regretful. “You were his wife, after all. He loved you.”
“I loved him, too,” she said. She meant it. Henry had been her refuge in that terrible storm of anguish Cy had caused. It wasn’t the kind of love
