Aimee Thurlo - Navajo Justice

Noticing the gesture, Laura went to the closet and got her godmother’s winter coat. “We have to get going,” she told Burke. “Now that the sun has set, it’s going to get cold in here pretty fast.

“Madrina,” she continued, looking at Elena, “I wondered if you would enjoy a bed-and-breakfast. We really shouldn’t impose on our new neighbor.”

“It’s no imposition,” Burke assured them quickly. “It’ll be a pleasure.” Taking off his leather jacket, he placed it around Laura’s shoulders. “Let’s go to my house so Doña Elena can get settled in, then we can come back and get some of the things you’ll both need.”

Feeling the warmth of his jacket around her was like being embraced by this man, whose scent spoke of the wildness and freedom of the night. But it was all too distracting.

“You don’t have to give me your jacket,” she said, trying to pass it back to him. “You’ll freeze.” She felt like an idiot for not having taken out her own coat when she went to the closet for Elena’s.

“I’m fine. I’m bigger and tougher,” Burke answered playfully, placing it back over her shoulders.

He led the way to his home, a modern structure constructed in a classic Southwestern style known as Territorial. When he stepped around them to open the heavy wooden door, Laura noticed that he hadn’t bothered to lock it.

“Don’t you lock your doors?” she asked, aghast. “I know we don’t have many incidents—”

She stopped suddenly when a huge, shaggy beast came shooting across the brick foyer, plopping down at Burke’s feet when he called, “Sit!” The black-and-silver animal looked a lot like a cross between a giant German shepherd and a wolf.

“Holy saints!” Elena whispered. “I thought you said you had a dog.”

“That’s not a dog. That’s a bear,” Laura managed to gasp. “No wonder you’re not concerned about leaving your house unlocked.”

“He’s really friendly.” Burke took her hand in his own and held it out in front of the beast. Laura stopped breathing.

“Friend, Wolf.”

Wolf sniffed her hand. “See? Now he knows you,” Burke said.

The warmth of Burke’s hand intertwined with hers made a tingle spread all through her body. As his gaze fastened on hers, she saw that his eyes had darkened slightly, awareness and desire touching their depths. Everything feminine in her came suddenly and vibrantly alive.

Laura pulled her hand away and tore her eyes from his. Even casual contact between them held danger. Needing to distract herself, she crouched down and petted the dog.

“Shake hands with the lady,” Burke said.

Wolf held out his paw, then yawned as if the whole business was beneath him.

Laura laughed and took his paw. “Pleasure to meet you, Wolf.”

Elena crouched down and scratched him behind the ears until Wolf’s eyes closed and he made a contented sound.

“What a wonderful companion you have,” Elena said.

“My godmother adores dogs,” Laura said. “Her mastiff, Bruno, died last year right before she moved in with me. She’s been wanting to get another one, but she hasn’t convinced me yet.”

Once he knew they were at ease around Wolf, Burke showed them to a room down the hall. It was simply furnished, with a four-poster bed and a chest of drawers, yet the furniture, constructed of dark woods, suggested a discerning taste.

Exquisitely crafted antique Navajo rugs, woven in earth tones, adorned the walls. “Those are beautiful,” Elena said. “The one on the left in particular.”

He nodded, pleased she’d complimented it. “It’s what my people call a Yei rug. The tall slender figures are the Holy People and, in this case, they’re shown carrying yucca strips. That rug is made up of elements our medicine men depict in sandpaintings used for healing. We believe that the Holy People are said to restore health when properly appealed to.”

“So it’s a religious artifact?”

“No, it’s not, but a sandpainting made to look like that, and done according to our ways, would be a religious object. This is just a wool rug, deliberately woven with a flaw—a thin line made from the center to the edge. That’s done as a tribute to Spider Woman, who taught our people the art of weaving.”

Elena studied everything in the room, from the beautiful handcrafted quilt on the bed to the small woven basket, made from grass coils and dyed yucca, that rested on the nightstand. “This is such a lovely room.”

“I thought you’d feel that way, so this one is for you,” Burke said. Then he glanced at Laura. “I think you’ll prefer the room across the hall.”

Laura followed him and saw another Southwest style room, in harmony with the rest of the house. This one had high ceilings composed of hand finished, stained logs, or vigas, and more modern milled lumber. The large bed in the middle had a hand carved headboard that was really an elaborate bookcase. She looked up at Burke quickly, wondering if he’d guessed what she did for a living.

“I met your godmother at the fence several times and she mentioned you loved books,” he said. “I thought you might appreciate this room, since there’s a light on the headboard for easy reading at night.” He demonstrated how to work the small, adjustable brass lamp.

“I do love books, that’s true,” she admitted, not quite willing to say anything more about her work at the moment. “I’m really amazed at what you’ve done here in such a short time. I expected to find a lot of unpacked boxes.”

“I hired people to help me move in and put things away so I wouldn’t miss any work. I don’t have a lot of possessions, and it didn’t take long.” Burke glanced at his watch. “And now, I’m going to have to get moving. I’m late for work.”

“What kind of work do you do?” Thinking about the way he’d seemed to know what to do in the aftermath of the break-in, she added, “Are you a cop?” If so, that would put a new slant on things.…”

“Something like that,” he answered, then whistled for Wolf. “You stay here with the ladies.” The dog sat, panting, but it looked for all the world as if he were grinning. “And try not to look so happy about it. You’re a guard dog, remember?”

“Is he trained for that kind of work?” Laura asked, suddenly apprehensive.

“Yes,” Burke said, then with a twinkle in his eye, quickly added, “He’s a danger to any crook who’d trip over him.”

Wolf made a low grumbling sound in protest.

“Sorry, Wolf. I should have told the ladies you were absolutely ferocious.”

The dog barked once and Laura laughed. “It’s as if he understands you.”

“With this dog, I truly never know,” Burke answered honestly. “The keys to my castle, madam.” He took her hand and placed the keys in her palm, but he didn’t let go right away.

Laura held her breath. The warmth of his touch seemed to travel through her, slipping around barriers she’d learned to put up between herself and the world.

“I’ll be back before you know it. You’re safe here,” he said, then released her.

As the words still resonated through her, Burke opened the front door.

“Your jacket,” she said quickly, and started to slip it off.

“Keep it on until you warm up. I have a good windbreaker in one of the saddlebags of my bike,” he said, then disappeared out the door.

A moment later, Laura heard him gunning the engine of his motorcycle. She went to the window to catch a final glimpse of him, and at that moment he glanced up, saw her and waved.

Cursing herself for letting him see that she’d been looking at him, she moved back into the center of the room.

“You see? He’s as charming as I told you he’d be,” Elena said softly.