he did. He gave you a child.”
When her chest turned tight, she blew out the breath she was holding. “He broke up with me when he found out I was pregnant. He wasn’t her father. He was a sperm donor.”
Walker searched her gaze. “Did you love him?”
“Yes.” She shifted in her seat, causing the swing to rock. “His name is Edward Louis. I met him through JT Marketing, the firm I worked for. He’s one of their top clients.”
“A white guy?”
“Yes. A corporate mogul. The president of a wheel corporation. You know, fancy rims and tires.”
“I’m sorry he hurt you.” Walker paused, frowned. “Is it Titan Motorsports? Is that the company he represents?”
“No. Why? Does it matter?”
“I have Titan wheels on my Jag. I just wanted to be sure I wasn’t supporting the enemy.”
She smiled, leaned against his shoulder, decided she liked him. “Your Jaguar is safe.”
“Good.” He leaned against her, too. “I don’t understand how a man could leave a woman who’s carrying his child.”
“He thought I trapped him. That I got pregnant on purpose. He didn’t love me the way I loved him. But I’m not blaming that on his race. It doesn’t have anything to do with him being white. Plenty of Indian men walk away, too.”
“Like your dad?”
“Exactly.”
“I’m still having a hard time with my mom,” Walker said. “It bothers me that she didn’t fight to keep her children. That she let us go. But on the other hand, I’m grateful that I’ve lived a privileged life. That I wasn’t raised here.” He made a face. “I realize how awful that sounds, but I can’t help it. It’s just so damn poor.”
“That was part of Mary’s reasoning, I think. Why she didn’t fight. Why she let Spencer take you.”
“So it was more than him just threatening her?”
Tamra nodded. “It was the hopelessness she felt, the fear of not being able to provide for you and Charlotte. Eighty-five percent of the people on Pine Ridge are unemployed. There’s no industry, technology or commercial advancement to provide jobs.”
“She has a job now.”
“Twenty-two years after she let you and your sister go. Mary has come a long way since then.”
“But Pine Ridge hasn’t.”
“Maybe not, but we keep trying. Mary knows she was wrong. That she should have fought to keep her kids. We have to believe in ourselves, to teach our young to battle the hopelessness, to rise above it.”
“That’s a noble concept. But how realistic is it?”
“Come to work with me tomorrow and find out.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Is that a dare?”
“You bet it is.” She wasn’t about to let him leave the reservation on a discouraging note. She wanted him to be proud of his birthright.
“Then what choice do I have?” He gave her a playful nudge. “I’m not the kind of man who backs away from a challenge. Especially from a pretty girl.”
She didn’t flirt back. At least not in a lighthearted way. She was too emotional to goof around, too serious to make silly jokes. In the waning light, she touched the side of his face, absorbing the texture of his skin.
His chest rose and fell, his breathing rough, a little anxious. “Being nice to me is going to get you into trouble, Tamra.”
“Maybe. But you’ve been nice to me tonight. You offered to visit my baby. To bring her flowers.”
“What was her name?” he asked.
“Jade.”
“Like the stone?”
“When I was pregnant, Mary bought me a figurine for my birthday. A jade turtle that fit in the palm of my hand. It was my protector.”
“Do you still have it?”
She shook her head. “I buried it with my baby. I gave it to her.”
He leaned forward. “Jade was lucky to have you.”
She tried not to cry, but her eyes betrayed her. They burned with the threat of tears, with the memory of her daughter, with the little kicks and jabs that had glorified her womb. “I wanted her so badly. But toward the end, I knew something was wrong. She wasn’t moving inside me anymore.”
“I’m so sorry.” He touched her face, the way she’d grazed his. And then he brushed his lips across hers. A feathery kiss, a warm embrace.
Desperate for his compassion, she slid her arms around his neck and drew him closer. His tongue touched hers, and she welcomed the sensation, the slow, sensual comfort of his mouth.
He tasted like blueberries, like Lakota pudding. Masculine heat, drenched in sugar. She couldn’t seem to get enough. Desperate for more, she deepened the kiss.
And then a car sounded, moving along the road, coming toward the house.
Like kids who’d gotten caught with their pants down, they jerked apart.
“My mother’s home.” He grabbed the chain on the swing, trying to keep it from rattling, from making too much noise. “I guess we should reheat the pizza.”
“Yes, of course.” Tamra stood, smoothed her blouse, wondered if Walker’s prediction would come true. That they would, indeed, end up in bed.
And be sorry about it afterward.
Walker, Tamra and Mary sat in the living room, the coffee table littered with napkins, sodas and leftover pizza. They’d eaten their meal, and now they battled a round of silence.
Walker wondered what Tamra was thinking, if she was as confused as he was. With each passing hour, he became more and more protective of her. Not that he was happy about it. In some ways, arguing with her was easier. But he wasn’t about to pick a fight.
If anything, he should cut his trip short and go home. But he knew he wouldn’t. Not until he figured out what to do about Tamra. If he walked away too soon, he would feel like a coward.
“Would you like to spend the night here?” his mother asked, catching him off guard.
He reached for his drink and took a hard, cold swig. Sleep under the same roof as Tamra? Was his mother daft? Couldn’t she see what was happening? “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Because I want to have sex with your non-Hunka daughter, he thought. “Because I
