There was staff on duty now and patients already waiting. The clinic wasn’t open overnight, though they did have a few rooms if they needed them, but that meant one of the staff had to work overtime, which cost money. The clinic was only six years old, furnished by casino profits, and it ran a deficit every year.
They waved to familiar faces as they headed to the baby wing, as Jake called it. This was a unique section of the facility, the women’s health clinic, and included birthing rooms, exam rooms and a nursery. They found Lori with the chief physician, Dr. Hector Hauser, in the nursery, both wearing surgical masks over their faces. The bassinets were lined up but mostly empty. Jake spotted only two tiny sleeping faces.
This, then, was why Lori had been at work so early. She had become the favored delivery nurse because, according to their dispatcher, Lori was gaining clinical experience in preparation for taking the certification exam to become a neonatal nurse. She spent her life trying to bring healthy babies into the world, and Jake had to wonder at that. He also wondered why she had not married. Of the Mott sisters, only Lori and Dominique were single, and Dominique was still in high school. The Mott girls had a family history of marrying young and filling the tribe’s rosters with new members.
Tinnin paused at the locked door to the nursery. They could go no farther without access. This area remained locked to keep unauthorized people from doing something stupid, like snatching a baby, but they could see in through the viewing window.
Dr. Hauser had the tiny girl on a digital scale as she kicked and fussed, with Lori standing watch. Hauser’s jowly face made him look both sad and serious. Unlike many in their tribe, Hauser kept fit and trim, but the lines at his eyes and the flesh at his neck told that he was well past his middle years.
The doctor leaned in, speaking to Lori, who recorded something—the weight, Jake assumed—in the chart neatly held to the metal clipboard.
Lori then set aside the chart and expertly lifted the tiny pink girl and bundled her in a soft-looking flannel wrap. She placed the girl on her shoulder and did a little bounce to comfort the infant. She seemed completely relaxed with a baby on her shoulder. Jake found himself smiling. It was at that moment she turned and noticed him there. Their gazes met, and she smiled back. He knew this by the crinkling of her eyes at the corners. She turned the newborn so he could see the tiny face, as if he were the nervous father coming to see his baby girl. Lori nodded at the baby and then glanced back to him. Look what we did, she seemed to say. We saved this little one.
He nodded, his smile broadening as a familiar warmth welled inside him. This was how she had once looked at him, and he missed it.
The warm welcome in Lori’s eyes as she continued the rhythmic bounce made her look so different from how he usually saw her. They’d begun a routine of her spotting him when he had business at the clinic and him pretending not to see her, his eyes shifting away as he searched for an escape route. The only time he allowed himself to look at her was when she didn’t know he was there. Until today. Now he saw her and she saw him. Something inside his chest tightened.
Tinnin made a sound in his throat. “That baby is white.”
“I think so,” said Jake.
“All white, I mean.”
“Agreed.”
“So, if the papa wasn’t Apache, why would a white girl come up here to have a baby?”
* * *
LORI SET THE sleeping baby into the bassinet and then let Chief Tinnin and Jake Redhorse into the delivery room. Hauser lowered his mask to offer a greeting as he stepped past them. Then he headed down the corridor toward the urgent-care area and the patients already waiting. Lori offered her two visitors both a mask. Tinnin’s limp was growing worse by the minute.
“How is she?” asked Tinnin, holding the mask to his face.
“She’s perfect. A little small but otherwise healthy.” She glanced at Jake, keeping her distance. The joy had fled, and now her steady gaze held a familiar caution.
Her attention flicked back to the chief.
“We need a blood type,” said Tinnin.
“We do that routinely. I’ll be sure you get a copy of the results.”
“What about the baby?” Jake interjected.
“I’ll be here until Burl arrives.”
Burl Tsosie was one of the four nurses here, along with Lori, Nina and Verna.
“Any word from Protective Services?” asked Tinnin.
“Not yet, but they usually make us the temporary guardians. That gives them time to secure placement, if the mother isn’t found.”
“She’s not getting that baby even if she is found.” Jake’s outrage crept into his voice. “Because I’m placing her under arrest.”
Lori’s eyes rolled up, and the breath she let out was audible.
He glanced at the baby, sleeping peacefully, her tiny eyelashes fanning her pink cheeks. She’d be placed and adopted, he realized. Why did that eventuality make his chest ache? He met Lori’s gaze and saw she also looked troubled. They’d found her, and somehow that gave him a personal stake in what happened to this baby girl.
“When?” said Tinnin, referring to the arrival of a Protective Services representative.
“I’m not sure,” said Lori. “They have an office in Globe and one in Flagstaff. Depends on what other business they have.”
“I’ll stay,” said Jake.
Lori’s brow wrinkled. “It might not even be today.”
Jake set his jaw but said nothing.
Tinnin cast him an odd look.
“It’s a lock-in area,” Lori said to Jake, offering her upturned hands with her explanation. “No one but the parents get near one of our babies.”
“I’m still staying.”
It was clear from the placement of one hand on her hip that Lori did not appreciate his intrusion into her territory.
Jake and Lori squared off.
Tinnin turned to hobble toward the door, pausing to look back at Jake. “Suit yourself, Redhorse. You’re off duty. But try to get a few hours sleep.”
The door closed behind him, and the chief wobbled past the viewing window and out of sight.
Lori returned her attention to Jake.
“Mask,” she said, pointing to the mask he now held at his side.
He tied the top string around his head, then looked down at the newborn he’d found in his truck. She was very pale, but beautiful. He’d never thought babies were beautiful before. His chest ached again, and he itched to hold her. He reached out with one finger to stroke the infant’s cheek.
“Don’t touch the babies. You’re not clean.” Her crisp tone let him know that this was very definitely her dominion, and she did not appreciate him inserting himself
