Diamond Butterfly (EJ Hunter pack Book 3) Read online

  Diamond Butterfly

  Published by Cyn Bagley at Amazon.com

  Copyright © 2017 by Cyn Bagley

  Amazon.com Kindle Edition, License Notes

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Image Credit

  D 64597307 © Jozef Klopacka | Dreamstime

  Dedication

  To my late-husband, Otto. I will love you forever.

  1947-2014

  To my good friend Lynn Raye Harris, who encouraged me to write after my illness.

  To Doris Mace, who inspires my writing and edits my mistakes.

  Diamond

  Butterfly

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  About the Author

  What I'm Reading

  Excerpt

  Discover more titles

  Chapter One

  The snow came down wet and heavy as I trudged down the dirt road, marked by slashes on the trees. Without those slashes I couldn't see the road, and I still had to hike a couple of miles before I made it to the cabin. My baby boy's sleeping breath warmed my neck as I carried him on my back, wrapped in a blanket. With his weight on my back, I tested each footstep. If we fell in the snow, hypothermia could be a problem. I couldn't fall.

  I had been driving down that road like a demon with the snow hitting the windshield. I should have gotten new blades, hell, new tires when I realized that I was heading for the storm. The heater kept a small portion of my windshield clear. I might not have jerked and slid off the road, barely hitting a tree, if I had seen the black creature earlier. Now I was walking in the storm and trying to keep my baby warm.

  The snow dampened the sound around me. I could hear only the crunch of my own boots. Even the birds and smaller animals were hidden in burrows. I opened my mouth to taste the air. I couldn't smell or taste anything around me, just wet and more wet.

  I reached back and touched my boy's small foot. It was soft and warm. I felt a quick relief. If I could just make it to the cabin soon, without getting lost, we would be fine. I took a deep breath and followed the slashes. Heavy against my leg was the loaded revolver.

  How did I, Nova Tewa, the Diamond Butterfly and obedient granddaughter, get into this mess?

  This morning my grandmother and I had been in our small house on the reservation. My grandmother had been making cinnamon candies from an old recipe she got from her grandmother. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafted through the house while we listened to Frank Sinatra' s "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas," followed by "Let it Snow." The speakers crackled.

  I put the final decorations on the tree. All morning we had been stringing popcorn to wrap around the tree. The fake green fir tree was in the front window. Grandmother had little red beads, which we strung between the white kernels. This year we made all of our own ornaments because we could afford only red beads and silver fringe.

  My little baby boy, only a few weeks old, slept in an antique baby rocker. Grandmother's father had made it with his own hands and my grandmother had slept in it as a baby. When she had her first child, her father gave her the rocker. Now my own son slept in it.

  I was rocking the little one when I heard heavy footsteps march up the front steps. I tensed a little when the knocking began. It boomed against the wooden door. A voice growled, "Open up."

  My grandmother stopped stirring the syrup, stepped to the kitchen door, and motioned to me. I grabbed the baby and ran into the kitchen. She motioned to the car keys and a jacket. I slipped out the back door and laid the baby in the foot well under the front seat.

  "Coming, coming," she shouted at the front door.

  Then I heard a crash, and my grandmother screamed. I turned the key in the ignition, and started the car. It roared. I hoped that whoever was invading our home hadn't heard me. Although I felt my stomach clench as I looked straight ahead, I hoped my grandmother was fine, but I didn't believe it.

  Before my son's birth, I would have fought our invaders. I would have slipped out the back door with a gun in my hand and ambushed them by shooting them in the back. In our part of the country, home invaders were not treated gently.

  Scenes of mayhem and torture of my beloved grandmother flashed through overactive imagination. I wanted to scream at leaving her.

  I almost hesitated. I loved my grandmother but my loyalty had to be to my son. He was too little to protect himself. I must protect him. I felt a primal scream burst from my mouth. I grabbed the wheel and slid as I pushed my foot down hard on the accelerator.

  "No, no, no!" I screamed my throat hoarse. Before I slid off the road, I turned the wheel and let my foot off the pedal. We stopped. I looked back but no one was following us yet. I slowly pushed the pedal and drove down the road more carefully. I kept looking at my rear-view mirror. My heart beat rapidly. I took a deep breath and looked at the road in front of me.

  We were not criminals. We didn't steal, prostitute, or use drugs. I focused on the windshield wipers as they swished up and down, up and down. The steady sound calmed my nerves for a moment as I drove to a little market just ten miles from our home. I had been here many times when I went to the city to drink, dance, and party.

  I parked next to a pump and looked down at my son who was still lying in the foot well in front of the seat. I picked him up and buckled him into the car seat in the back. He didn't moan or even move. His eyes were closed and his fist was in his mouth. For a moment I felt that surge that every mother feels when they look at their baby. I wanted to snuggle him close to my chest and sing my grandmother's lullabies.

  No time. No time. Another part of my mind beat a rhythm in my head. I squeezed his hand and then shut the door.

  I put the fuel nozzle in the car's tank. The baby murmured in his sleep.

  We had left the house so quickly that I hadn't been able to grab the diaper bag. I would need to buy diapers, food, and blankets soon. This little convenience store had only gas and snacks. I wouldn't find baby stuff here.

  The fuel stopped with a click. I reached for the nozzle and some gas dribbled on the ground. The sharp smell hit my nose and I coughed.

  I looked at my back trail. I had that feeling that they were on the road and following me, so I jumped when the manager called my name. Dave didn't usually work at night. I felt a growing sense of unease.

  "Nova," he said. "Did you meet your cousins?"

  "I must have missed them." I jiggled the handle of the nozzle as I placed it in the pump. I climbed into the car and rolled down the window. "What did they look like?"

  Dave described two men with dark hair, dark eyes, and short stout bodies. He could have been describing any of the men on the reservation.

  "Did you get their names?"

  He hadn't. My worry must have leaked through my body language because when he said, "Nova," he sounded worried. "It's going to storm h
ard tonight. Are you sure you should take the baby out?"

  No, I was sure. Of course it wasn't smart to take the baby out. But if I had stayed in the nice warm house, then those men would have gotten us. I wanted to leave. Still, I waited for Dave's weather prediction. He was usually right.

  "How much snow?" I asked. I clutched the steering wheel hard and turned on the engine. I turned up the heat so that the baby would stay warm.

  "We'll be snowed in for days," he said. He paused. The next words came out of him in a rush. "If you go north, you can stay at my cabin." He pulled out a key from his front pocket. "Get going. You have a lot of driving to do tonight."

  As I drove away, I saw him in the rear view mirror. He was watching the sky.

  ###

  It should have been easy to find the cabin. I had been there before when I was younger. Dave had invited friends to come to the cabin on a summer vacation.

  My grandmother had let me go when Dave's parents had promised to be responsible for us. I was a handful. Still, Grandmother made me promise to call if I were in trouble. Even though she couldn't drive, she would have found a way to come.

  When she decided to come too, I asked her, "How could I get in trouble?" I didn't even notice boys then. Dave was a friend who loved to climb trees as much as I did.

  "There are strange things in this world," she had warned me.

  I had rolled my eyes and laughed at her. Adults never understood the joy of running and climbing. They listened to the birds and chased the small animals that rustled in the brush. I wasn't afraid of getting lost. I could always find my way home.

  Even now I dream of that summer.

  We raced in the meadows, climbed the trees, and swam in the small lake by the cabin. Sometimes I would sit under the largest tree and smell the pungent pine. I sat so still that the chipmunks would climb on my feet, up my legs, and sit in my lap. Their soft touches would wake me from my trance.

  At night, I would sit on the front porch with Dave's friends as we watched the stars and looked for satellites. Sometimes we would eat popcorn and play games like "no bears are out tonight." We were almost too old to play tag, but this was our last summer of childhood, so we screamed and ran in circles. The adults chatted in the front room of the cabin with beer bottles in their hands.

  The only evening that the adults became nervous and called us into the cabin to play board games was the night the howls started. It was after the sun disappeared behind the trees, leaving the cabin in darkness. Even now I get bumps on my skin when I remember that howl. The sound breached the sky and lingered in the night air as it faded. I smashed my face against the window and wanted to howl back. It howled again.

  Dave pulled me from the window, and we huddled in the bedroom away from the moon and howls. I didn't understand his fear.

  Hearing the howls changed me. I wanted to run in the night and dance under the stars. I wanted to howl.

  As I got older I would go to the city to drink and drive home by the moon's light. I would find a lonely area, step out of the car and howl. I would listen for an answering howl but never heard one. Grandmother caught me once.

  She did not approve.

  Chapter Two

  As the night air cooled the earth, the rain began to change from raindrops to wet snow. At first it hit against the pavement and melted. As it got colder and the temperatures dropped, it began to stick to the road.

  The car wasn't ready for winter. I hadn't made money during my pregnancy, so I couldn't change the tires. As long as it ran, I hadn't worried about maintaining my car.

  I glanced at the rear-view mirror and checked my son. I could see the curve of his cheek as he slept. I wanted to reach back and touch his soft skin.

  My grandmother had offered us a home when the pregnancy test showed positive. I had thought that I would run away to the big city when I had enough money for an apartment. I had a newly minted high school certificate that gave me exactly nothing. No one was impressed with an 18 year old girl fresh from the countryside. I could have gone to the streets but my grandmother saved me. I would be forever grateful.

  After the birth of my baby I found two part-time jobs in our little town. I gave the money to my grandmother to pay for food and shelter, with enough left over to pay for diapers and milk for my baby.

  My first job was stocking shelves at the grocery store. My second job was working nights at the gas station. When Dave hired me, he asked if I could shoot a shotgun. It was his only requirement. The little store had had several robberies over the years. The punks and thieves had thought his small store was easy pickings until Dave had beaten one with a tire iron.

  Since the punk was armed, Dave won that court battle. In the meantime he lost a lot of money, time, and employees. He wasn't a vigilante exactly, just wanted to protect his own property.

  Dave took me out on the range. I showed him my proficiency. He hired me.

  We had the usual thieves, but not as many as before. By that time the little gas station had a reputation. You didn't bother the owner or his employees.

  I had had boyfriends. I knew that I appealed to some of them because I was lithe and athletic. But I was not interested in a long-term relationship. I had long-term goals. I wanted to give my grandmother a better life. I wanted to go to school, maybe become a nurse, and buy a little house in the suburbs.

  Getting pregnant derailed my goals, but I now wanted my son to live a richer life than mine. I didn't know how impossible my dreams were. I dreamed them anyway.

  I felt the car slide sideways on the road. My mind immediately checked the here and now. I was on a road and I was sliding. My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn't let my mind wander. I scolded myself. It took all my attention to keep the car on the wet, slippery roads.

  The snow fell steadily and the wipers scraped across the windshield. I slowed down to see the road. Every second the snow got thicker and soon I was going about five miles an hour. I knew the men were behind me, and I felt the need to push farther and faster. Still the roads were slick and the tires were almost bald. If I went any faster the car would end up stuck on the side of the road. I tried to quiet my mind and listen to the steady hum of wipers. I bit my lip.

  My eyes glazed and I remembered.

  Dave would check on the gas station after midnight. At first I resented that he would come to the station to check up on me. I could take care of myself. I was still quite young so I didn't see the power in his body as he stalked into the gas station.

  When he saw me wrestle boxes too big for me, he would take them from me and carry them into the store. It made me angry because I thought he was showing me that I was too weak to do my job. If they were too heavy, I could put them on the hand cart. I didn't understand the frizzing of my nerves as he watched me work.

  Dave and I had history. Besides, I had a baby to care for.

  ###

  I admit that my mind was wandering, but that damn creature ran me off the road. My first thought was to slam on the brakes. I hit the accelerator instead. The car roared and I could hear the slushy snow whip up and hit the back of the trunk. Thunk. Then slowly, slowly, I lost control of the car. It slid sideways further into the ditch. There was no way I was getting back on the road. I felt my heart drop to my stomach and a sour taste spread in my mouth. I unlatched the seatbelt and reached over to check on my son. His eyes were open but he didn't cry.

  I took a deep breath and got out of the car. I looked for something to put under the car wheels. One of the tires had been punctured by a hidden rock on the side of the road. I may have been lucky, but still there was no way I could push that car back on the road or rock it back and forth. Even if I could get it back on the road, I didn't have a spare tire. It wasn't going anywhere.

  I opened the back door and checked my son. He smiled at me. A tuft of black hair peaked out of his hat. I was wearing a light coat and boots. I shivered as I felt the cold settle around my neck. My son had a hat and blanket. I should have stopped for som
e warm clothes and diapers.

  We couldn't stay here. The snow covered the exhaust pipe and if I tried to stay warm in the car we would eventually go to sleep and die from carbon monoxide. I shivered again and wrapped my son tightly in the blanket. Next I pulled him inside my jacket. I hoped I had enough body heat to keep him alive until we found the cabin.

  It was sheer luck that the car had slid into a tree that marked Dave's property. I trudged in the heavy snow, clutching my son close to me, and keeping my fear at bay. As I left the main road, the trees seemed to lean toward me. In my peripheral vision I saw a shadow follow us. I knew it wasn't mine because the night had descended. I could see the glimpse of white against the black of tree bark. The moon rose above us, and my breath curled in front of me.

  The farther I walked into the woods, the smaller the road became, until it was a path, and then just a line in the snow. The heavy wet silence was oppressive and I gasped as the cold hit my lungs. I could feel the heartbeat of my son. He generated more warmth, helping me to keep walking. If it had only been me in this forest in the middle of the snow, I would have sat down and gone to sleep. It was the constant reminder that I had my baby tucked into my chest that kept me walking and walking and walking.

  I slammed my knee into something hard. I had been trudging so long that my body had gone into auto-pilot and my mind had been asleep. It jerked me back to consciousness. My eyes focused and I saw steps leading up to a porch and a door. I had found the cabin.

  I stomped up the stairs, while shaking off the wet snow from my boots and body. I couldn't stop now. After I put the baby down, I would have to get wood and start a fire. The cabin would be warmer than outside, but not by much. I could feel the wet seeping through my jeans and my feet were numb.

  I tried the door, but it was locked. I pulled the key from my pocket. My hands were so cold that I fumbled and almost dropped the key. My heart dropped. I felt my son's breath on my neck and his breath calmed me as once again I put the key to the lock. I heard a click. The door opened. In front of me was a warm room. Someone had already started a fire in the stove. Someone had left food on the table.