to love him, but because he hadn’t thought they could.
“Maria?” He heard voices coming from the kitchen and took off almost at a run. Logically, he knew Redfoot couldn’t live forever, but he hadn’t come to a place where he could let the old man go. Not yet, he prayed, and especially not at the hands of some murderer. Rage filled him.
“In here,” Maria called.
Redfoot sat at the kitchen table. Maria sat in front of him, her hands gently separating the old man’s hair. He pushed her hands away. “I am fine. Leave me be.”
Sky’s gaze shot to the blood-soaked towel in Maria’s hands. “You’re not fine,” he said. Then, to Maria, “An ambulance is on its way.”
“I’m not getting carted off in some noisy van like a cripple!”
“Yes, you are. I don’t care if I have to handcuff your ass.”
“Stubborn ol’ Indian,” Maria muttered.
“I do not need an ambulance.” Redfoot waved Maria’s hands away. When a new stream of blood flowed down his forehead, she pressed the cloth back to his brow.
“How bad is it?” Sky asked.
“Not as bad as I thought,” Maria admitted. “But he needs stitches and to be checked for a concussion.” Shegazed down at her foster father with tenderness and concern.
“I am not a child to be coddled!” Redfoot’s gaze shifted to Sky. “We have bigger problems than the scratch on my head. This person who broke in, he—”
“What’s important is that you’re okay.” Sky moved closer, but his gut clenched as he thought about the work he and the others had put into the powwow and their plans for the money in the lodge safe. No doubt that was what the intruder had come for—and had probably taken. But did he want to rub salt in the old man’s wounds by discussing it?
“I need to get dressed,” Maria said.
Sky noticed her nightgown for the first time, and thought of the woman he’d left at his house.
“Watch him,” Maria commanded. “I’m going to change before the paramedics show up.” She handed her towel to Redfoot. “Keep that on that cut to slow the bleeding,” she said, then tenderly touched his cheek.
As Maria walked out, Sky sat down in her chair. “Do you feel up to telling me what happened?” he asked. The money didn’t matter, but catching this creep did.
“I was walking and saw a light through the window of the lodge.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Sky asked.
“By the time you got here, they could have robbed us blind.”
“It’s just money. Your life is worth more than that.”
Redfoot pulled the towel from his head. “The intruder was not there for money. This is about Blue Eyes.”
Sky flinched when he saw a stream of blood flow down the old man’s face. “What about her? Why don’t you lie down?”
“I’m fine. I told you of my dream of the mad bulldog? For some reason, I think this man is that dog.”
Redfoot had gone on and on about the dream that afternoon. It hadn’t made sense then, and it still didn’t.“Why do you think this has anything to do with her?” Sky took the towel and pressed it to Redfoot’s head.
“Because the thief wasn’t there for money. All he wanted was Blue Eyes’s camera.”
“Her camera?” An ambulance siren sounded in the distance.
“He asked me where we keep the cameras we take. I pointed to the cabinet. We still have two small ones that people never came back for, but he opened the cabinet and got mad. He said he wanted the one from today.”
Sky tried to wrap his mind around all this. Had Shala gotten someone to steal her camera for her while she distracted him? The thought rolled around his brain but he didn’t believe it. She’d come to him looking for the camera, and she hadn’t known he was chief of police. Sky supposed someone had seen her with it and, knowing its value, had simply wanted to steal it from the lodge.
“Did he take anything?” he asked Redfoot.
“Nothing.”
“The money?” Sky pressed.
“The safe was in front of him. He was
“Maria?” He heard voices coming from the kitchen and took off almost at a run. Logically, he knew Redfoot couldn’t live forever, but he hadn’t come to a place where he could let the old man go. Not yet, he prayed, and especially not at the hands of some murderer. Rage filled him.
“In here,” Maria called.
Redfoot sat at the kitchen table. Maria sat in front of him, her hands gently separating the old man’s hair. He pushed her hands away. “I am fine. Leave me be.”
Sky’s gaze shot to the blood-soaked towel in Maria’s hands. “You’re not fine,” he said. Then, to Maria, “An ambulance is on its way.”
“I’m not getting carted off in some noisy van like a cripple!”
“Yes, you are. I don’t care if I have to handcuff your ass.”
“Stubborn ol’ Indian,” Maria muttered.
“I do not need an ambulance.” Redfoot waved Maria’s hands away. When a new stream of blood flowed down his forehead, she pressed the cloth back to his brow.
“How bad is it?” Sky asked.
“Not as bad as I thought,” Maria admitted. “But he needs stitches and to be checked for a concussion.” Shegazed down at her foster father with tenderness and concern.
“I am not a child to be coddled!” Redfoot’s gaze shifted to Sky. “We have bigger problems than the scratch on my head. This person who broke in, he—”
“What’s important is that you’re okay.” Sky moved closer, but his gut clenched as he thought about the work he and the others had put into the powwow and their plans for the money in the lodge safe. No doubt that was what the intruder had come for—and had probably taken. But did he want to rub salt in the old man’s wounds by discussing it?
“I need to get dressed,” Maria said.
Sky noticed her nightgown for the first time, and thought of the woman he’d left at his house.
“Watch him,” Maria commanded. “I’m going to change before the paramedics show up.” She handed her towel to Redfoot. “Keep that on that cut to slow the bleeding,” she said, then tenderly touched his cheek.
As Maria walked out, Sky sat down in her chair. “Do you feel up to telling me what happened?” he asked. The money didn’t matter, but catching this creep did.
“I was walking and saw a light through the window of the lodge.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Sky asked.
“By the time you got here, they could have robbed us blind.”
“It’s just money. Your life is worth more than that.”
Redfoot pulled the towel from his head. “The intruder was not there for money. This is about Blue Eyes.”
Sky flinched when he saw a stream of blood flow down the old man’s face. “What about her? Why don’t you lie down?”
“I’m fine. I told you of my dream of the mad bulldog? For some reason, I think this man is that dog.”
Redfoot had gone on and on about the dream that afternoon. It hadn’t made sense then, and it still didn’t.“Why do you think this has anything to do with her?” Sky took the towel and pressed it to Redfoot’s head.
“Because the thief wasn’t there for money. All he wanted was Blue Eyes’s camera.”
“Her camera?” An ambulance siren sounded in the distance.
“He asked me where we keep the cameras we take. I pointed to the cabinet. We still have two small ones that people never came back for, but he opened the cabinet and got mad. He said he wanted the one from today.”
Sky tried to wrap his mind around all this. Had Shala gotten someone to steal her camera for her while she distracted him? The thought rolled around his brain but he didn’t believe it. She’d come to him looking for the camera, and she hadn’t known he was chief of police. Sky supposed someone had seen her with it and, knowing its value, had simply wanted to steal it from the lodge.
“Did he take anything?” he asked Redfoot.
“Nothing.”
“The money?” Sky pressed.
“The safe was in front of him. He was
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