Coyote: The Outlander (with FREE second screen experience) by Chantal Noordeloos Page B

through.” His face was grave, his jaw set, and his eyes half-lidded and dark. Something in the way he said the word “our” made Coyote suspicious. She wondered if there were other agents that might know more.
    “The only things we can determine are where the rips have been, and if we’re lucky, where they are at present. That’s it. Everything else is still pretty much a mystery.”
    Pinkerton wrapped his suntanned hand around his mug and brought it to his lips. He inhaled the comforting scent of the lukewarm liquid, and closed his eyes for a second to savor it, the soft foam speckling his impressive moustache with little white clouds. Placing the mug back on the table, he brushed away little flecks of foam from his whiskers with a single finger.
    “IAAI is working on it, but so far with little result.” Pinkerton looked a little deflated, as if he wished he had more information to share. He’s not telling me everything, Coyote thought. I wouldn’t tell me everything if I were him, either.
    “Shame,” Coyote muttered instead of sharing her thoughts. “Looks like Westwood’s people might have one up on IAAI.” There was a little twitch at the corner of his nostril, and she could see she’d hit the lawman where it hurt.
    “Perhaps,” Pinkerton said cautiously. “I can assume you are taking the case, then?”
    Coyote sat back in her seat and pulled on her derby, trying to hide a smile.
    “Was there ever any doubt?”

A WARM WELCOME
    White men knew the beautiful pastures of Lafayette as “Indian territory,” a place that held much mystery for the paleskins. Most men heeded the warnings and stayed clear of the region, taking the less dangerous but longer paths. Most, but not all. Coyote and Caesar rode at ease through the green grass of Lafayette. They steered their horses fearlessly through the alluring landscape without a care in the world. In white man’s territory, they raised suspicious glances, but here in Indian country, the natives never looked twice.
    Perhaps it was because they were such an odd pair, a white woman travelling with her dark-skinned male partner, that they found a common ground with the Wea Indians, the guardians of this particular piece of land.
    The surroundings were beautiful, the area carpeted in waves of emerald green pastures and complemented by the light during the day. As the sun set, it cast the land in a veil of pink and orange.
    A village nestled between the green slopes, a welcome sight to the weary travelers. As they drew closer, a group of grinning children ran out to greet them, jumping and shouting, running along with the horses and providing escort. Their naked bodies bumped into each other as they all tried to get closer to the woman and her companion.
    Tokala himself, the much-revered shaman of the Wea tribe, greeted them. “It has been many moons since your last visit, Coyote.” There was no scorn in his voice, only warmth. He was a tall man, taller than any of his tribe, and his long, black hair flowed past his shoulders. Colorful beads and feathers adorned his ebony locks, and his robe was equally decorated.
    Coyote climbed off her horse and hugged her long-time friend. The shaman’s arms were strong and welcoming. He held her eyes for a moment and gave her a warm smile, then he turned to Caesar and gave him an equally heartfelt embrace. Caesar shot the shaman a shy smile. Coyote enjoyed watching their moment together, knowing there were few people outside of her and Tokala that Caesar would hug, or even touch.
    “It is good to have you in our midst again, Caesar.” Tokala’s voice was deep and kind.
    The boisterous group of Wea children continued to run around the newcomers, shouting gleeful words of welcome in their native tongue. Taunting fingers touched and squeezed them, pulling at their clothes. One curious little girl with large brown eyes and a sharp nose tried to peer into Coyote’s saddlebag. She gently pushed the girl aside then undid the