Tribal Blood. Jenna Kernan

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Three

      Kacey’s body relaxed. The contractions were not as strong now, fading as if taking a pause. How long did labor last? Hours? Days? She didn’t know. Her mother just went to the clinic and came home the next day with a brother or sister. Kacey assumed that by tomorrow at this time, she would have a baby. But exactly what happened in the meantime was vague.

      She’d learned about childbirth in high-school health class. At the time, the lesson seemed theoretical. The abstract phases of birth just one more thing to be memorized and spit back on a quiz. Stage I—Early Labor. Stage II—Active Labor. Stage III—hand the baby to a nurse and take a nap.

      Colt pulled off the road and up a short turnoff that was composed of two ruts in the yellow grass. A cabin came into view against the ridge, sitting up on concrete blocks. The step before the front door was clearly slag rock from a turquoise vein. She was Turquoise Canyon Apache, so she recognized what base rock surrounded a vein of the precious blue stone.

      Colt barely had the car in Park before throwing himself against the driver’s-side door in his hurry to be out of the cab. He scrambled out onto all fours. It took him a moment to right himself before he straightened and returned to the car.

      “Colt?”

      He was sweating as if he’d run from his claim to this one. He peered in at her through the open door.

      “Call him,” he whispered.

      Kacey opened her door and swung her legs out, bare feet touching the long yellow grass as she inched forward on the seat. Colt retrieved his rifle and then rounded the car to stand beside her door.

      She called a greeting. They were met first by a skinny white dog. The muck on his shoulder showed he’d been rolling in something, and the stench said it was something dead.

      The claim holder arrived shortly afterward, dressed in coveralls coated with a fine white layer of rock dust. All claims belonged to the tribe, but families worked them and passed them along. Her family’s claim was worked by others, leased for a period of five years at a time.

      David SaVala tried to shake Colt’s hand, but Colt chose to place his hand on the shoulder strap of his rifle. David greeted her instead, peering at her from beside Colt, but his smile was gone.

      “Good to see you two back together.”

      She smiled and nodded. That seemed easier than explaining.

      David took another step toward her, moving beyond the open car door, and his step faltered.

      “Oh.” He glanced from her swollen belly to Colt. “Oh, I see. Congratulations, you two.”

      Kacey used the door and the frame to heave herself up. Colt rubbed his neck but said nothing. He backed toward the woods, but Kacey gripped his arm to prevent his escape.

      She told David what they needed and he retreated to his cabin with his dog for the phone and handed it off to her with the pass code and instructions on where she would first find a signal. The distance and her condition required another car ride. They headed out with the dog trotting with them as far as the road. Colt was shaking by the time they reached the high point of Dead Elk Dip and the place that allowed a weak cell phone signal.

      “What’s wrong?” she asked.

      “Don’t drive anymore.”

      “Claustrophobic?” she asked. This was new. Ty had told her of Colt’s capture but had been short on details. She just now understood what helping her was costing him. Was it leaving his claim that upset him or the driving?

      His skin was pale. He retrieved David’s phone. Colt placed the call and gripped his hair in one fist as he waited for the phone to connect.

      Kacey heard a male voice issue a greeting.

      Colt squeezed his eyes shut. His fist tightened in his hair.

      “Who’s this?” came the voice on the other end of the line.

      His jaw clamped shut and he thrust the phone at her.

      “Hello?” she replied.

      “This is Redhorse.” She recognized the voice of Officer Jake Redhorse, one of Colt’s older brothers. Kacey identified herself and relayed the high points. Escape. The stolen car. The gun battle. Her condition and the location of the missing girls.

      “You’re with Colt?” Disbelief resonated in his voice.

      “Yes. He’s the one who called you.”

      There was a moment’s pause.

      “Where are the girls?”

      “I don’t know exactly. I just drove until I figured out where I was.”

      “I need the exact address,” said Jake. “And if it’s in Darabee, I need to notify their police department.”

      “No. They might be connected. Like they were with that assassination in their station. Karl Hooke and the Lilac Mine Mass Shooter,” said Kacey.

      “How do you know that?”

      “Marta Garcia overheard our captors say so before I got there.” Kacey knew that the Darabee police were being investigated by the federal and state government for corruption. Several of the force had been suspended and charges filed.

      “Can I speak to Colt?” Jake asked.