Marta Perry - In the Enemy's Sights

That admiration put a sour taste in his mouth, but somehow he’d have to deal with it.

“Look, I’ll be tactful, I promise.”

He put his hand over hers where it lay on the desk. A sensation of warmth spread up his arm, taking him by surprise, and for an instant he forgot what he was saying.

Then he straightened. “I’ll be tactful,” he repeated. “But I’ve got to get to the bottom of this vandalism. Quinn’s counting on me. I can’t let him down.”

She was late for work, Julianna realized as she pulled into her parking space on the gravel lot in front of the office the next morning. She’d had coffee, but still her mind felt fogged, as if the bad dreams that had plagued her all night long were affecting her ability to concentrate.

Well, maybe another cup of coffee would clear her head. She grabbed her bag and hurried toward the office. With any luck, no one else would be here to see her late arrival. Quinn often stopped at one of the job sites before coming to the office, and Ken—

Ken was already here, and he wasn’t alone. She stopped just inside the door, her throat tightening. Her grandfather and Ken between them seemed to fill the room—both big men, each with his own aura of power and strength.

Harvey Red Feather sat on the edge of her desk, while Ken leaned against the file cabinet. They each held a coffee mug, and they seemed to be chatting like old friends.

“Good morning, Grandfather. What are you doing here?”

She glanced from him to Ken, realizing that she was the only thing they had in common to talk about. What did Ken think of her grandfather, with his shoulder-length white hair and his serene, weathered face that seemed to have seen and accepted all the world had to offer?

Grandfather got up, smiling, and put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s good to see you, little one. I’m a delivery boy. Your grandmother sent lunch over for you. She thinks you don’t eat enough.” He nodded toward the basket that sat on her desk.

“Some traditional Pueblo dish?” Ken asked.

Grandfather chuckled. “Only if you’re from an Italian pueblo. It’s gnocchi. Grandma’s experimenting with her new Italian cookbook.”

“It’ll be delicious, whatever it is.” She couldn’t resist leaning against him. His solid strength reassured her, as it had as far back as her memory went. “But she shouldn’t have sent you clear over here just to bring me lunch.”

“What do I have to do that’s more important than seeing you?” He hugged her. “Besides, I hadn’t seen your new workplace yet. Kenneth offered me coffee, so we’ve been shooting the breeze while I waited for you.”

“I’m sorry I’m late.” She darted a sideways glance at Ken. He wasn’t her boss, but she disliked appearing less than competent in front of him.

He shrugged. “Only five minutes.” His gaze seemed to search her face. “You look tired. Maybe you should have taken a few more minutes.”

“I’m fine.” She evaded his gaze.

Grandfather tilted her chin up, and she couldn’t evade his wise, observant eyes. “You do look tired, Juli. Bad dreams again?”

“It’s nothing.”

She used putting her bag on her desk as a reason to turn away from him. This was why she didn’t want the two sides of her life touching. Ken, of all people, didn’t need to know about the dreams.

Her grandfather opened his mouth as if to pursue the subject, but Ken broke in first.

“Your grandfather was telling me about the powwow that’s coming up soon. I didn’t know about the Native American dance competitions. That must be something to see.”

He was talking at random, she suspected, trying to edge her grandfather away from a subject that he could see embarrassed her. She hadn’t expected such sensitivity on his part.

The least she could do was help skim over the moment. “Grandfather’s one of the best dancers. You’d think he was twenty when he gets into the arena. He puts the youngsters to shame.”

“Flatterer.” Her grandfather hugged her again. “I’d best get home, or your grandmother will wonder what I’m up to. Enjoy your lunch.”

“I will. Thank Grandma for me.”

He nodded and held out his hand to Ken. “It was a pleasure to meet you. If you’d like to visit the powwow, you’d be more than welcome. Get Juli to bring you.”

“Thank you, sir. I just might do that.”

Her grandfather went out, letting in a wave of cool morning air that cooled her warm cheeks. Once the door closed behind him, she glanced at Ken.

“It was nice of you to express an interest, but you don’t really need to attend the powwow. I don’t think it would be something you’d care for.”

“What makes you so sure?” He came to perch on the corner of her desk where her grandfather had sat. Unfortunately the feeling she had when he was that close was entirely different. “Sounds pretty interesting to me.”

She shrugged. “It’s mainly for Native Americans.”

“Your grandfather said I’d be welcome.”

Why was he so persistent about something that couldn’t possibly interest him?

“You’d be welcome,” she said shortly. “I just don’t think you’d enjoy it.”

“Is it that you don’t want to take me?” He leaned toward her across the desk. “Or are you ashamed of your heritage?”

Her head came up at that. Maybe she’d felt that way once, when she’d been a shy teenager desperate to fit into an Anglo world, but no longer. “I’m proud of who I am.”

“It’s me, then, is it?”

“No.” He was pushing her into a corner, and she didn’t appreciate it. “If you’d like to go, I’d be happy to take you.” She flashed him an annoyed look. “Satisfied?”

His lips twitched. “Pretty much. It’s a date.”

No, it wasn’t. But if she said any more about it, he’d think she attached too much importance to the whole idea of going somewhere with him.

She switched on her computer and opened her e-mail, hoping Ken would take the hint. He didn’t move.

“Your grandfather was right. You do look tired. Want some coffee?”

“I can get it—” she began, but he was already crossing to the coffee pot.

“I’ve got it. Hope you can drink my brew. I needed something to keep me awake.”

She took the mug he handed her. Now that she looked, she saw the marks of sleeplessness on his face that must also be evident on hers. Was Ken troubled by dreams, too—dreams of his plane spiraling toward the earth?

“What kept you up?” She sipped at the hot, strong coffee, and it nearly scalded her mouth.

“The new man Quinn hired for the night patrol couldn’t start for a couple of days, so we took turns doing some random checks overnight.” He ran his hand through his short brown hair. “Guess I’ve gotten out of the habit of working odd hours.”

“I didn’t realize.” Her thoughts darted to Jay. “Was everything quiet?”

His face tightened. “Quiet enough here. But while we were putting extra protection here, vandals went after the hospital site.”

“Oh, no.” They both knew the company couldn’t stand any more delays on the project.

“Quinn’s down there now, trying to get things moving again.” He shook his head, the lines etching deeper on his face. “I don’t know what’s going on, Juli. But I’ve got a bad feeling about it.”

“This vandalism has everyone jittery,” Julianna said, pulling back into her parking spot at the office that night. Angel, sitting beside her, gave a soft woof, as if to express interest.

“And it’s a good thing I have you to talk to, or I might start talking to myself.” She rubbed behind Angel’s ears, earning a rough, wet kiss from the dog’s tongue. “Come on, girl. I just need to pick up Gram’s basket, and then we’ll go home and have a run before bed.”