Page 34 of The Lonely Road

“Exactly as you think, considering the look on your face,” I tease.

She grins, stabs her fork into a piece of meat. “You go back often?”

“Not at all. My parents are in Naples, Florida, now, and my brother is in Orlando. My sister lives in San Francisco.”

“Wow! Everyone’s spread out. Are you close?”

I tossed up my shoulders. “I guess. We see each other for Thanksgiving. For Christmas…sometimes, but it’s become less and less. Do you have siblings?”

I know she doesn’t, but I ask anyway to keep the conversation going.

I have revealed to her more than I normally do, and none of it was embellished.

It’s a surprise—but then again, maybe not, considering this woman has a peculiarly mysterious effect on me.

She shakes her head. “Not…by blood. I was…ah, an only child, and my parents died when I was just a toddler.”

“I’m so sorry.” And I am because a sadness enters her eyes.

Her lips lift, but it’s a fragile thing. “I’m lucky despite it. I was raised by my grandmother, the amazing Delia Morningstar.”

She says it with pride, and she should.

Delia Morningstar isn’t just a name you hear around Ignacio. She’s known well beyond it—tribal councils and state offices. She was part of the team that helped bring the first National Museum of the American Indian in D.C. together. She did the kind of work that doesn’t make much noise but changes things anyway.

“And now you’re a lawyer. Went to Harvard, I hear.”

That makes her giggle. It’s not what I expected because she’s so composed. She looks wildly happy that I mentioned Harvard.

“Quite something for a girl from a tribe to get there, isn’t it?” She sets her fork down and picks up her beer. “People told me I was getting too big for my shoes…you know how they do, when they worry about you being disappointed?” I nod, and she continues, “But my grandmother…she was always on my side. When I got in, she behaved as if of course I had, because in her mind there was no other option.”

I lean back, enjoying her. She’s got big dark eyes, and I wonder how she is in court. Does she hide all her emotions? Because right now, she’s letting me see everything.

“You like being a lawyer?”

She considers that question. “More than before.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“I used to work at a law firm in Aspen. One of those fancy ones. They paid well. But now…I’m confronted with the suspicion that I was on the wrong side of many of the cases I pled.”

There, we’re getting somewhere.

“How?” I prod.

“Well….” She looks around and licks her lips. “I used to work against communities like Wildflower Canyon.” She straightens. “Never took a case against a tribe. That was a red line.” Then she relaxes some. “For example, right now I have a water rights case, and in the past, I’d be on the team that was trying to take my client’s senior rights and doing it, legally, but heartlessly. Nowadays…I’m fighting those who want to take what doesn’t belong to them. It’s more fulfilling.” Then she laughs, rolling her eyes. “Pays considerably less, though. But money isn’t everything, is it?”

I definitely think so.

Money is the reason why I’m sitting here trying to manipulate this woman, this entire town to give me what Jessup needs to make sure Taya loses her case, her client loses her water rights, and ultimately, her ranch.

The band gets louder. The area between the barns fills up with people, and the outdoor fireplaces start to get a little more power.

Cade Mercer dances with Evie—spinning her while she shrieks with delight—and Sarah Kirk is watching them with her hands wrapped around a coffee cup and an expression that could rearrange anyone’s, even my cynical self’s, understanding of the word soft.

Joy is doing something with Hunt that technically qualifies as dancing but is clearly designed to test his self-control. He is failing. He knows it. He doesn’t stop. He wants her. She wants him.

I file that away as information I probably won’t ever need, but is good to know.