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Authors: Amy J Miller

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BOOK: Apache Heart
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“Yeah, sure.” 

             
“What’s the biggest issue?”

             
Elan thought for a moment, “We’re doing better than a lot of tribes.  We’ve got the ski resort, golf courses, a casino.  But unemployment is still high, young people get discouraged, and when you add alcohol to a tough home situation, things can get toxic.  We’ve had a rash of teen suicide, and—as you’ve seen—there’s domestic violence.  That’s one of the reasons I’ve been trying to get kids involved with running.  Other people do other things—Lee Yahnaki teaches sacred dance and drumming, Lozan heads up the coming of age ceremonies for the young girls. We have people teaching Apache language classes, there’s a young filmmakers program, and the health outreach we do from the hospital—all of it helps.”

             
Elan’s passion came through as he spoke about these things in a way that Randi had not seen previously.  Clearly he identified with his mother’s heritage, and his father had merely been a contributor of genetic material.  She liked this Elan a lot more than the one blathering about running shoes.

             
“Like most things in the world, the key is balance,” Elan continued.  “Balance between economic prosperity, better physical and mental health, and preserving the old ways, and our environment.”

             
“I know, as an outsider, that I can’t pretend to understand the complexities of what people are wrestling with around here, but I want to be supportive in whatever way is appropriate.  I’m going to be around for a while, after all.”

             
Elan reached over and gave her hand a squeeze, “That’s appreciated, and I’m sure in time you’ll be able to contribute a lot around here.”

             
Randi smiled, and squeezed Elan’s hand back.

             
As they pulled back into the hospital parking lot, Elan asked nonchalantly, “You want to go get some dinner?”

             
Randi toyed with the idea for a moment, but decided to stick to her ‘go slow’ plan, and gently begged off, “I really need to get some things at home in order, but I’ll take a rain check.”                            A tight smile formed on Elan’s face, “Yeah, sure, another time.”             

             
During her drive back to the cabin, Randi thought a lot about Elan, but she found that she was thinking even more about Lee.  She tried to line up the pieces of the puzzle: paramedic, sacred dance expert, brother of domestic violence victim, convicted criminal, fisherman.  Somehow, she felt like there was a major piece that she was missing.  

             
There was a car in front of her place as she pulled up, and Randi realized that it was the one that belonged to Joe and Maggie.  She felt a little rush of adrenaline: maybe Maggie was ready to get away from her abusive husband.  She parked, but as she got out of the car, she realized that she had made a terrible mistake.  It wasn’t Maggie in the car; it was Joe.

             
He kept his distance, holding up his hands in a pacifying gesture.  “Now don’t go all bat shit crazy on me.  I’m just here to apologize.”

             
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to—you could have really hurt Maggie, and your baby.” 

             
“That’s just it, I’m not entirely convinced that
is
my baby.”  He circled around his car, getting closer.

             
“Then divorce her.  But nothing gives you the right to do what you did yesterday.”  Randi wondered if the ancient canister of pepper spray in the bottom of her purse still worked.

             
“That’s my wife, and I’ll do what I damn well please, doctor lady.”  Joe sneered at Randi.  “Which brings me to another topic…when the prosecutor asks, you didn’t see anything.  You just heard a couple arguing because the wife was unfaithful.”

             
“I know what I saw Joe.  Intimidation isn’t going to work with me.” 

             
“Oh, I’m not going to intimidate you, doctor lady.”  He jabbed a finger in the air at Randi’s face.  “I’m going to
annihilate
you.  One word from you to the prosecutors, and I’ll shut you up.  And you will never see it coming.”

             
“Skip the posturing.  Guys like you are cowards.  Now get the hell out of my drive before I call the cops.”

             
“That’s your answer to everything, huh?  Call the cops?  Well sometime you’re going to call, but no one will answer.”  He reached out and grabbed Randi’s wrist so quickly that she couldn’t even react.  “It’s a shame I’m already married, because you look like a good screw, doctor lady—when you aren’t being a total bitch.”

             
He let Randi go before she could do anything lethal with her knee.  Randi did her best to glare at him, despite the fact she wanted to tremble like a leaf.  “Like I said, get the hell away from my home.”

             
He waved casually as he got back behind the wheel of his car, “Remember what I said, not one word.”  He turned the engine, and sprayed gravel as he took off.

             
Randi’s hand shook as she unlocked the door to her place, quickly throwing the deadbolt on the door behind her.  Despite the warmth of the day, she shut the windows and locked them too, before sitting down at the kitchen table.  She stared at her phone, unsure who she should call.  The sensible thing was to call the police, let them know that she’d been threatened, but what she really wanted was to feel Lee’s arms round her, to give herself over to his size and strength.  She held her head as she thought about what Maggie has said, though, and about all her admonitions to herself to go slow.  Finally, she picked up the phone.

 

###

 

              “I’m sorry to drag you out here, but I didn’t know who I should call,” Randi poured a cup of coffee.  “It’s decaf, I figured I didn’t need to get any jumpier.”

             
“No, it’s fine, I’m glad you called.”  Elan spooned a bit of sugar into his cup.  “I mean…I wish you hadn’t had a run in like that, but it’s no trouble for me to come keep you company.”

             
“I guess we
are
going to have supper together.  Making a bite is the least I can do.”  Randi started rummaging in the cupboard, “How do you feel about tuna noodle casserole?”

             
“I don’t know as if I’ve ever had a tuna noodle casserole, but I’m sure it will be great.”  Elan smiled, “I think that’s kind of a white people thing.”

             
Randi turned around with a box of pasta in one hand, and a large can of tuna in the other.  “Do you think I should have found a place in town?  Is it stupid for me to live out here?”

             
“Stupid?  No.  I totally understand why you’d want to live here.  It’s beautiful…and peaceful.”  Elan opened the windows back up to let in some fresh air.

             
“Unless of course there’s a psycho in your drive.”  Randi put the water on to boil, then rattled around, looking for a baking dish.  “Do you know Joe?”

             
“Know who he is?  Yeah, but know him? Not really.” 

             
“What about Maggie?”

             
There was a long pause before Elan answered, “I know Maggie.  We…dated, when I first got out of med school.”

             
Randi tried to be gentle as she probed, “Sounds like there’s some history there.” 

             
“Maggie’s a good woman, a beautiful woman.  She…just lost her way.”  Elan swallowed hard, and Randi decided to let it go.

             
“Do we need something a little stiffer to drink than coffee?  I’ve got a bottle of good bourbon that was a going away present.”

             
Pushing his hair back from his forehead, Elan nodded.  “Yeah, why not?  That sounds good.” 

             
After she turned off the boiling water, Randi found a can of mixed nuts and popped the top, setting it on the table along with two glasses and the bottle.  “You want an ice cube, or do you take it neat?”

             
Elan picked up his bottle, “Skip the ice, this looks too good to water back.”  He splashed some liquor into each glass, as Randi turned on her iPod with its little speakers.  “What do you want to listen to?” she asked.

             
Elan sloshed the amber liquid around in his glass, “I don’t know, something old school.  How about the Rolling Stones?”

             
Randi nodded in agreement, “Good choice.

             
“A lot of the kids on the rez—they’re into hip hop.”

             
“Kids are kids.  Always looking for a way to distinguish themselves from the older generation.”

             
“I’m okay with the rap, it’s the gangsta part that I don’t like.  Glorifying weed, and turning women into bitches and hoes…we don’t need that.  Up in Lakota country, the Sioux have a real problem with gangs now.  Native Americans have enough of our own problems, why import more?”  He took a swig. 

             
“Okay, no getting morose.  That’s not going to help anything.”

             
“No it’s not,” Elan tossed the rest of his drink back, “But I know what’s going to make me feel better.”

             
“What?” Randi asked as she took a sip.

             
“This.”  Elan’s hand slipped behind Randi’s neck, pulling her face to his.  His lips pressed hard against Randi’s mouth, his tongue insistent as he tried to part her lips.  She resisted for a moment without pulling back, and then something just gave way inside her.  Her mouth relaxed and his tongue slipped in, gently making a sensuous inspection.  He released her and stood up, peeling his t-shirt off as he did.  His lean body was much as Randi had imagined it: the slight swell of well-formed pecs, a rippling washboard stomach, corded arms.  He pulled Randi to her feet, tugging her shirt off over her head.  She was wearing a sports bra, nothing sexy, but as his eyes swept over her, she felt like the most desirable woman in the world.  For once, Elan was wordless, and everything he did was decisive.  Randi felt her resolve to take things slowly slipping away.  Elan’s tongue, teeth and lips played across her face and neck in an erotic exploration as his hands held her body firmly against him. 

             
“And I had just told myself I was going to take things slowly,” Randi murmured, “And here you go screwing up all my plans.”  Her fingers trailed down Elan’s chest as she kissed Elan back, eager and ready.

             
Suddenly, Elan scooped Randi up into his arms, her head resting against the curve of his neck.  She sighed. Elan had certainly being keeping a part of himself under wraps.  He carried her to the bedroom and gently placed her on the bed.  She looked up at him with half-closed eyes, happy to let him direct the proceedings as she kicked off her shoes.  Her recent encounter with Joe was completely forgotten, and for a few moments, so was Lee.

             
Stretching out on the bed beside her, Elan gently ran his hand down Randi’s side, as he looked into her eyes, propped up on one elbow.  “Oh we can take this as slow as you want,” he said softly, as his fingers trailed over her bare skin.  Randi stroked his handsome face with one hand; his grey eyes were liquid with desire.  A moment of professional clarity inserted itself, though, and Randi cleared her throat, trying to find her voice.

             
“Is this a good idea?” she asked.  “You are my boss, after all.”

             
He idly played with a piece of her auburn hair, “I don’t meet many single women, you know, especially beautiful ones that can understand my job…and me.”

             
It wasn’t an answer, and Randi pressed, “Elan, believe me, it’s been way too long since I felt inclined to do…this.”  She brushed his hair with her hand, “But workplace romance, you know, it can be a recipe for disaster.  We don’t even really know each other yet.” 

             
Sighing, Elan rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling.  “Stop being so damn reasonable.  Maybe we’d both be happier doing something that seems irresponsible and stupid.”

             
Sitting up, Randi looked at her hands in her lap, trying to figure out what she should say, what she should do.  “You’re an attractive man Elan, and smart and accomplished.  I like all of that.  But we’ve got to work together, so let’s not rush this.  Let’s give things a little time and make sure that we’re not jumping into bed because I had a scary experience and you had a shot of liquid courage.”

             
“Will you at least make me tuna noodle casserole?”  Elan sat up and gave Randi a resigned smile.

             
Randi laughed softly, “You bet.  One white girl tuna noodle casserole coming up.”  She found a worn denim shirt in her closet and slipped it on.  “At least the casserole baking will cover up the way I smell.  I haven’t even showered off our run!” 

BOOK: Apache Heart
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