They followed John Ayze to a spot near the parking lot that had been walled off. As they stepped through the gate, Law stopped short. There were other men present, some clearly Native Americans. Some not.
Law didn’t recognize the others at first, dressed as civilians. It wasn’t until one of them raised a hand in greeting that Law knew who they were. Four men from his old squad stood waiting with hands folded before them at military rest.
He stopped short, his gaze going hard, his stance rigid.
Jori moved in and squeezed Law’s hand. “They wanted to be part of this. To share the healing. They have a story to tell you, Law. We thought you should hear it.”
He looked at her, his mouth hard. “Whose idea was it that they come?”
Jori held that daunting gaze. “Mine. Don’t be angry at Yardley. When we planned this, with the healing ceremony, I asked her to contact them, too. You told me you thought they were responsible for Scud’s death. Let them tell you their side.”
His body stayed still, rigid, but his eyes were alive as he continued to look at her. “You thought of this?”
“I want to help make it better. After Yardley told me about the healing ceremony, I knew it would help to have other men you know to share it with. I hope it’s okay.”
He turned to stare again at the men who waited for him to approach then slowly nodded. “You will be here when it’s over?”
“I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.”
A faraway smile curved his mouth. “Thank you.”
He squeezed her hand so hard she would have protested at any other time. But the emotion coursing through him was more important.
Law looked down at Sam and nodded. “Hier, Sam. We’ve got some healing to do.”
Jori watched them head toward the sweat lodge but she would not stay to watch. This was not for her. This was for Law.
*
“You’re not keeping up.” Yardley pushed another tequila shot under Jori’s nose.
Jori stared at the row of four shot glasses on the table before her. “How many am I behind?”
“Two.”
“Didn’t we order food?”
Yardley laughed. “Yes. Meanwhile, don’t embarrass me. Drink up.”
“Right.” Jori reached for another shot of clear liquid. She wasn’t much of a drinker. Two shots and her eyes were doing independent rotation. That old saying, One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, Floor, now made a lot of sense.
They were seated in a private corner of a dimly lit bar in Albuquerque that Jori would never have had the courage to enter on her own. Yardley’s declaration that she knew the owner/bartender wasn’t as reassuring as it might have been. She was waiting for Law to return from his first day of healing.
She hoped they’d done the right thing. Yardley was positive Jori had. But then she learned in a very short time that Yardley was a force of nature much like her brother. She seemed never uncertain about anything she said or did.
Jori glanced at her drinking partner, who had consumed all four shots. She didn’t appear the least bit affected. Dressed in slim jeans and a tailored white shirt with turquoise snaps and cuff links, she was a Ralph Lauren dream come true. The silver earrings dancing against her dark-red hair made Jori green with envy. The woman was gorgeous without trying. And every man here was aware of that fact.
Only Jori was close enough to notice the strain around Yardley’s eyes. Something was definitely worrying her. Was it Law? Or something else? Jori decided it was not her place to ask.
The sound of male laughter across the room shifted Jori’s sideways as she fingered her still-full glass.
Across the room a group of men wearing turquoise bracelets or bolo ties, sporting long luxurious hair that flowed over the shoulders of their plaid shirts, were playing pool. Sort of. Mostly, they were using pool as an excuse to keep an eye on the two women who were very close to being “drunk available.” At least their frequent glances told Jori they were hoping that was so.
Jori smiled to herself. Wasn’t going to happen.
She glanced again at Yardley, who was fishing in her pocket for her beeping phone. “Yes?” Jori watched Yardley’s face go slack as whoever was on the other end began to talk. Then her dark eyes flared. “That’s not possible!” The panic in Yardley’s voice was like a punch in the chest.
Jori reached out to touch Yardley’s arm. “What’s wrong? Is it Law?”
But Yardley was already sliding out of the booth. “No. Not Law. I need to take this.” She turned and hurried toward the restroom.
Jori swallowed her unease. What on earth could alarm a woman like Yardley? Maybe she would tell her when she came back.
She pushed the third undrunk shot back beside the fourth. No more until food came.
She felt more than saw Law enter the bar. It was the way the men at the pool table suddenly shifted their focus from her to the door, alerting her to their interest in the new arrival.
He was alone, except for Sam. Her heart sank. She had hoped he’d be with his squad, a sign they had settled things.