Defender
by
kathleen eagle

Dear Reader, The weather's warm, and here at Sensation, the reading's hot!
Our HEARTBREAKER this month is a certain success: Judith Duncan's That Same
Old Feeling.  It's the second of her WIDE OPEN SPACES trilogy, featuring the
McCall family of Western Canada.  Look for Eden McCall's book in August to
complete the set but, meanwhile, sit back and enjoy Chase's and Devon's
long-term love affair.  Chase is just the kind of man women adore, but what
does it take to make him settle down?
Our THE MEN OF MIDNIGHT series concludes with MacDougall's Darling, Emilie
Richards' third novel about the men born at the stroke of twelve and destined
for love beyond their wildest dreams.  And on top of this, there's a new
novel from favourite author Kathleen Eagle, who creates a vivid picture of
life as it really is for a modern Indian.  Defender is a classic tale of a
secret child and a love that never quite was.
Finally, we have the first of a fabulous new mini-series, CODE NAME: DANGER.
Night of the Jaguar is an action-packed, sexy tale of two people who never
should have met but are clearly made for each other.
And keep your eyes on the secondary characters, Maggie and Adam, because
you're going to be seeing a lot more of them as the series continues.

It's a great month!

The Editors

Defender

KATHLEEN EAGLE

DID YOU PURCHASE THIS BOOK WITHOUT A COVER?

If you did, you should be aware it is stolen property as it was reported
unsold and destroyed by a retailer.  Neither the author nor the publisher has
received any payment for this book.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of
the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name
or names.  They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or
unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
"All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part
in any form.  This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin
Enterprises H B.V.
The text of this publication or any part thereof may not
be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying, kecording, storage in an information
retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the
publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade
or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the
prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than
that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this
condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
First published in Great Britain 1996 by Silhouette Books, Eton House, 18-24
Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

Kathleen Eagle 1994 Silhouette,

Silhouette Sensation and Colophon are Trade Marks of Harlequin Enterprises

ISBN 0 373 07589 8

Other novels by Kathleen Eagle

Silhouette Sensation

More Than a Miracle Paintbox Morning Bad Moon Rising Black Tree Moon
Silhouette Special Edition Someday Soon A Class Act Georgia Nights
Something Worth Keeping Carved in Stone Candles in the Night "Til There
Was You Broomstick Cowboy Silhouette Christmas Stories 1990 " The
Twelfth Moon"
For Charlie Murphy, who served the Standing Rock Sioux
Tribe as Chairman, And in memory of his wife, Kay, fellow sojourner to
the Dakotas way back when; fellow teacher, working mother, old friend.
Who knows where the time goes.

Prologue

Gideon  instinctively hit the deck at the Sound of gunfire. The first
person he'd learned to defend was himself, and this wasn't the first
time he'd had to eat a little dirt in the process.  ~ ' "Damn."  Tribal
game warden Carl Earlie dropped to his knees at Gideon's side. "Don't
see nothin', but my ears are ringing pretty good.  How close would you
say that came?" "Too close for comfort."  Another bullet zinged over
Gideon's head, scattering chunks of oak bark as it ricocheted off the
trees.  He grabbed the back of Carl's belt and jerked him down.

"Heeez, that forty-acre forehead of yours makes a nice, shiny target."

Carl's eyes widened.

"You think they're shoot' to at us?"

"You know anything else that's in season this time of year besides
Indians?" Carl thought about it, then turned down the corners of his
mouth and shook his head.  ".Naw, you're getting' paranoid, Chief.
Nobody's out to shoot us."  Flashing a quick grin, he stuck his head way
up on his scrawny neck, looking around like some big-eyed ring-necked
duck. "You know what I think is--'."  Another shot rang out, and the
duck became a turtle.

"I think I got a job to do.

Somebody's poachin'.  "

"Just stay down, Carl."  Gideon spared him a warning glance.

"And don't call me

"Chief'."

"Sorry.  If they heard that, I guess you'd be the one they'd aim for,
huh?" "Not if they're poachers.  Poachers'd go after you first,
mistaking you for a moose." "Get outta here, Ch" -- Gideon touched his
fingers to his lips and cocked one ear toward the sound of footsteps.
Glimpsing the sprinting shooter, they exchanged nods, scrambled to their
feet and followed.  To anyone who didn't know him, it would have been
surprising that a man of Carl's considerable girth was able to move
nearly as quickly and almost as quiefiy as Gideon did, but they shared
the heritage of native woodsmen.

"Taking a little venison, Marvin?"  Gideon asked~ as they approached the
man.

Marvin Strikes Many stepped between his challengers and his kill as he
tucked the butt of his rifle into his armpit and carefully pointed the
barrel at the ground.

"My kids are hlingry."

"It's fishing season," Carlsaid.  'And you're a damn good fisherman.  "
"I saw ~ buck,~and I happened to have my rifle along, so I took a shot."
Marvin threw his shoulders back and wedged his thumb between his
overlapping belly and the waistband of his jeans, assuming a cocksure,
hip-shot stance. There was something about the eombination of skinny
legs and droopy gut that ruined the effect, but Marvin seemed oblivious
to that fact. "You call yourselves Chippewa, but you talk about licenses
and seasons, just like the whites.  I have a right to take this meat
home to my family." Gideon eyed the deer carcass.  He almost wished he
could let the man take the meat and go his way.  A few years ago, that
was exactly what he would have done.  But these days he couldn't pick
and choose on a whim.  The tribal chairman's hat was a tight fit for a
man who was used to taking some pretty broad liberties.  He'd spent most
of his life doing things his own way and telling anyone who didn't like
it to go to hell.  Nowadays he had to choose his words more carefully,
even though he couched them in the same tone he'd always used when he
was challenged.  What was once considered offensive was now
authoritative.  ' "You have to go by the rules, Marvin.  The Pine Lake
Band has rules."

"And the state has rules," Marvin recited.

"And the fed~ have rules."

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"You gonna slap me with a fine, Carl?"

"Got to, Marvin, you know that."

"The Strikes Many family has its own rules.  The Pine Lake Band doesn't
speak for us."  Marvin jabbed his forefinger in Gideon's direction. "You
might be chairman of the Pine Lake Band, but you've got no say over the
Strikes Many clan, Defender.  We're White River, and we didn't ask to be
put in with you guys."

"We didn't invite you, either," Carl said.

"All right, all right."  Gideon didn't like being pointed at, especially
by a man toting a hunting rifle.  Times like this he wanted to throw the
damn chairman's hat back into the ring, land one punch and walk away.

But he took a deep breath and calmly made his case.

"The fact is, the feds included your clan in the Pine Lake Band, Marvin.
That all happened way before my time, so I had nothing to do with it.
You wanna complain to somebody about your tribal affiliation, complain
to the Bureau of Indian Affairs.  Let me know if you get anywhere with
them.  Meanwhile, I'm tribal chairman, and I've got some say over you."
"You didn't get my vote."  Marvin gave a smug nod, convinced he'd just
delivered a crushing blow. "Nobody did.  Election Day, I said the hell
with you guys, and I just stayed home." "Well, we sure missed you,
Marvin.  Tell you what--next time around, why don't you run against me?"

"Run for chairman of Pine Lake?"  He gave a mirthless hoot.

"Might as well run for chairman of the Pine Ridge Sioux." "C'mon,
Marvin, we're related closer than that.  We're all Chippew0, right?"
Silently cursing him.  ~elf for sounding exactly like a politician,
Gideon indicated the deer with a quick chin jerk

"Let's dress thi.~ guy out.  We'll give the meat to some of the elders."

"I gotta take your rifle, Marvin."  Carl held out his hand.

Reluctantly, Marvin surrendered his weapon.

"Could be worse.  I could impound your pickup." "One game warden's just
as bad as another,.  doesn't matter whether he works for the tribe' or
the state."  Marvin unsheathed his hunting knife and wagged it at
Gideon.  "You think you're gonna make this deal with the state, selling
our treaty rights down the river, you can think again."

"Point that thing somewhere else, Marvin, or I'll break it in half.

Now, you know that all we're trying to do is work' a compromise. We're
not selling anything.  But either way, you've got to get it through your
head that you can't do Defender 11 this.  " He nodded toward the
carcass.

"We've always had some kind of rules for the hunt.  Always."

Carl laid a conciliatory' hand on Marvin's shoulder.

"Hell, man, we thought somebody was shootin' at us."

 "Ididn't know you were within range." "Thank God for small favors,"
Gideon muttered.  He unsnapped the knife sheath that was fastened to his
own belt.

"Give me a hand here, Carl."

"We'll take care of this," Carl said, offering an insider's smile.
"You've got business to tend to over at the lodge, right?  You don't
wanna keep the pretty lady waitin' too long."

"She's my sister-in-law, Carl."

"I know that, but your brother's dead.  Been dead awhile now.  And the
way I remember it, you saw her first." "If anybody ever wants to write
my life story, I'll tell 'em to give you a call.  You remember more than
I do."  He had to walk away from that infuriating grin.  Carl had known
him too damn long.

"And that chapter would only run about a page and a half."

"Yeah, fight."  Carl's gesture invited Marvin to start the gutting
process. "You've been stallin' around long enough, Chief.  Go tend to
your business now." "Quit calling me" -- Gideon turned and cocked a
finger in Carl's direction, but he couldn't quite keep a straight face
in the presence of that cock-eyed grin "--Chief/" Chapter 1. Her name
was Raina, but perched on a ladder-back oak chair in the rustic lobby of
Pine Lake Lodge, she was all sunshine.  She could easily have been the
solitary woman in one of those stippled paintings, the kind that seemed
to equate fair women, white dresses and blue water with pure serenity.
The lodge's big front window framed her quite nicely, with the lake in
the background.  Streaming through the glass, the afternoon sunlight
embroidered her dark blond hair with threads of gold.  She wore a
flowered sun-dress and a straw hat with a big sunflower tacked to the
band. Beneath the droopy yellow brim, all Gideon could see of her face
was pink nose, pink lips and small white chin. Standing in the dark
shadows of the lounge, he tuned out the jangle of the slot machines at
his back as he watched her flip through the magazine that lay open on
her lap.  Her lips moved slightly as some noteworthy bit of information
caught her eye.  Despite the passage of more time than Gideon had the
heart to mark, the sweefiy familiar habit hinted Defender 13 of the same
old Raina.  Soft and yielding, those lips had given him much pleasure
~the few times he'd been permitted to taste them.  But in recent years
she had pressed them only against his cheek and only briefly; then
smiled and made some polite remark about being glad to see him. Only
snatches of her first words ever registered with him.  She had a way of
bombarding his senses, and it usually took him a moment to get his
mental bearings.  But this time he'd gotten the drop on her.  This time,
much like a time long past, he'd been the one to see her first .  She
looked like a fish out of water--a goldfish that had somehow escaped the
confines of a giant crystal brandy shifter and fallen into a shot glass.
Seated on a stool in the company of two women who were polishing the bar
with all four elbows, the lady with the big blue eyes seemed a mite
uncomfortable.  Gideon knew the other two--Kristy Reese and Charlotte
Croix--both seasoned teachers, both single and neither a stranger to the
Duck's Tail Tavern.  But the young blonde was new to the north woods,
and Gideon was an expert guide.  He knew all about taking fish out of
the water, and he hated watching them struggle. He felt especially
charitable tonight.  After he loaded up the jukebox with quarters, he
was going to take this one off the hook. "How's the three-R's business
lookin' this fall, ladies?"  With a subtle nod he suggested to Charlotte
that she move over one stool.

"Have you filled up all those little desks yet?"

"Gideon."  Charlotte smiled, gave a quick, knowing glance at Gideon's
chosen target, then obligingly vacated the stool to give him a clear
shot. "It's been a while since we've seen you around here.  Did you
venture out of the woods just to check up on us?" "If this is still the
same Duck's Tail, I'm not out of.  the woods yet."  He claimed his seat,
acknowledging Charlotte's collaboration with another nod, this one more
deliberate, more courteous.

"Came in to see if we pulled in any new faces this year.

Not that it isn't a pleasure to see the old faces, too.  Well, not old
faces," he amended with a deferential smile.

"Returning faces.

Friendly faces of old acquaintances who shouldn't be forgot.  "

"Nor offended when they can introduce you to a pretty new face,"

Kristy said. "Raina McKenny, meet Gideon Defender.  If you ever get the
urge for a real wilderness experience, Gideon's your man."

 "

Charlotte's chortle nearly caused her to choke on her drink.  She
recovered with a rejoinder that got a giggle out of Kristy.

"He has an excellent reputation for satisfying all kinds of wild urges."

Charlotte was trying hard to sound like the voice of experience, which
gave Gideon his chance for a good laugh.  With a mischievous sparkle in
his eyes, he nodded in her direction.  "This one's hoping I might take a
run at hers someday." The remark drew an indignant scowl, but his order
for another round made the proper amends.  , Care to dance, Raina?  "

"Well, I..."

Gideon waited while she exchanged meaningful glances with her
companions.  It wasn't like she was asking permission-after all, this
was what they'd come for, right?  To 'meet guys.  It was more like, Any
last words of warning, girls?  Any particular aberrations !  should b~
apprised of before I take the plunge? When neither of ~them came up with
anything, she slid off the stool and looked up at him, like a small
female Daniel offering to go quietly.

Defender 15 Gideon cupped his hand under her elbow.

"Nothing wild, I promise.  I just stuck about five bucks in the jukebox.
I picked all slow tunes."

Her tentative smile seemed real enough.  ~"Is that supposed to be
reassuring?"

"It's supposed to be romantic.  I've been in the woods a long time, and
I've had nothing but all-male fishing parties all summer." Locking her
gaze with his, he took her hands and slid them over his shoulders, as
though he were putting on a necklace. "I was about ready to put on an
apron and dance with one of them, like they used to do in the old days
at the trappers' rendezvous." "You enjoy dancing that much?"  He'd put
both his arms around her.  She promptly withdrew his left one and made
him do the tea-spout pose with her.

"I was taught this way."

"Really?  How about this?"  He made a silly face and started them
rocking side to side.

"Are you serious?"

"Hell, no.  Just trying to make you smile."  And this time her smile
came easily. "There.  That took some of the tension out of your
shoulders.  I could feel it."  He spread his hand over the middle of her
back, pulling her closer. "Damn, guess I shouldn't have mentioned it.
You stiffened up again."  .

Casting him an apologetic glance, she made a deliberate attempt to
relax.

"I don't know anyone here very well yet.  I'm really not very... good at
this sort of thing."

"Not much of a barfly?"  She shook her pretty head, and he chuckled.

"Not much nightlife in a small town.  You from the Twin Cities?"  "

"Teacher, right?"  She gave a tight nod.

"First year?"  Another nod.  He pulled in the teapot spout and held her
hand against his shoulder.  This time she didn't object.  He figured !
~'d hit on a compwmise. "What macle you clecic~ to start your cater at
Pine ~ Indian Reservation, of all places?"

"They offered me a job:' " Not your first choice, huh?  "

"I wanted to start out in a small school, and I've always loved the
northern part of the state."  She glanced up at him, still unsure, but
clearly, as far as he was concerned, attracted.

"And I wanted to come to a reservation."

"Really."  He slid his hand down her spine and let it rest at the small
of her back, He led with his hips.  She wanted to follow merely with her
feet, but he was having none of that, and he could feel it the minute
her hips stopped resisting the rhythm.  He smiled and settled in.  She
was going to give him a run for his money, but he would reach the payoff
window eventually.

"Well, here you are.  How do you like our music?"

"It's" -- she drew a shallow breath and gave a soft sigh "--familiar."
"You've heard this one somewhere before?"  She nodded.  "How about our
dancing?"  She looked up.  He indicated the two of them with a
suggestive chin jerk

"Our dancing."

"I like it," she confessed.  Unwilling to lose the ground he'd gained,
he ch~w her only a fraction of an inch closer.  She acknowledged his
restraint with a smile.

"I like it very much."

He had held her close on the dance floor, touched his cheek to hers, and
later that night he had tasted her lips.  And in the months that
followed he'd found him.  Much to his surprise, go' rag for broke. Not
only had he tried to make it with her, he'd also tried to make her love
him.  Un Defender 17 fortunately, he'd made a few mistakes.  Maybe more
than a few--he'd been good at that then.  But he'd made up for it by
introducing her to the Defender who could do no wrong--his brother,
Jared. When she finally looked up, she peered' straight at him and
smiled, as though she'd known he was there all along.  His boot heels
sounded an unhurried rhythm across the hardwood floor of the lobby.  She
closed the magazine, set it aside and slowly rose from the chair.  He
would greet her in the customary fashion, he thought.  He/would simply,
properly shake her hand. But her way was to greet him with a sistcrly
embrace and a peck on the cheek, and he gave in to it without objection.
Her smile was easily mirrored, her greeting easy to echo, but he~
withdrawal came too quickly.  His response lagged by a heartbeat.  His
hands lingered on her back just a little too long, and she beat him to
the punch at stepping away.  "

"I wasn't sure you'd gotten my message," she said as she adjusted her
hat.

"It's not so easy to reach you."

"Easier than it used to be.  I have an office indoors these days."

She nodded, and it bothered him that she seemed to smile only on cue,
her eyes devoid of anything but the recognition of the rudiments of an
acquaintanceship, an acknowledgment Of the fact that they had seen each
other ouly occasionally over the years. With a shrug he told himself to
shift into the same gear.  "But things have been pretty hectic lately,
and I'm in and out.  Actually, I got two messages this morning--one that
you were coming, the other that you were here.  I couldn't tell how old
that first one was." "It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision.  I
wanted to get away, but at first Peter didn't want to go on vacation at
all.  He didn't want to leave his friends."  She sighed as she turned
from him, snatching off the hat as though it had suddenly become
troublesome. "You know how kids are at twelve, nearly thirteen. Suddenly
their friends become their whole reason for living." "Is he twelve
already?"  He didn't know why the nmnber should hit him so hard.  It was
just a number.  With a casual click of his tongue he tried to shoo the
whole thing into an insulated mental box.

"Almost a teenager.  My God, that's really hard to believe."

"I know.  I don't know where the time went.  All of a sudden he's a
young man, and I... Sometimes I just want my little boy back."  She
brushed her hair from her temple in a nervous gesture, then summoned a
bright smile. "Anyway, we hit on this idea, that we would just come up
here for a week or so and explore the woods.  Try boating on a little
bigger lake than we're used to and maybe do some fishing or something."
"Not your first choice, huh?"  The echo of his old challenge made him
chuckle.  It made her blush, which at last added some real color to her
smile and told him that she remembered, too.  He laid his hand on her
shoulder and offered a sympathetic squeeze, then a teasing jiggle.

"Come on, Raina, when were you ever interested in fishing?"

"I've always enjoyed the water.  And the woods," she averted amiably.
But his hand lingered on her shoulder and drew her in closer, not so
much physically as intellectually.  It seemed as though she sensed his
willingness to be her ally.

"Truthfully," she began quietly,

"Peter doesn't really know any other Indian kids.  We live in the
suburbs, you know, and he's definitely in the minority.  He's beginning
to have mixed feelings about his heritage--doesn't seem to know whether
to take a serious interest or to pretend to be" -- her eyes Defender 19
shifted from his face to the front desk and back again, and she
shrugged, unwilling to name an alternative "--something else, I guess. I
don't know how to, urn... Well, he's at that difficult age.

With Jared gone.  "

She spoke her husband's name so softly that Gideon could barely hear it.
With Jared gone, what?  he wondered.  With Jared gone, Peter was
probably the only Indian left in the upscale suburb he'd lived in all
his life.  With Jared gone, Peter was surrounded by people who didn't
look much like him, including his mother.  So with Jared gone, just who
was going to tell Peter to stay away from mirrors and he'd be fine?
Jared, for all his smarts and all his talents, had been the Chippewa who
was not a Chippewa.  That was his chosen alternative.  If he'd lived a
little longer, Jared would have helped his son learn the ins and outs of
avoiding mirrors.  And, Gideon had to admit, nobody did it better.  It
had once been one of the many accomplishments Gideon had envied his
brother. Gideon shoved his hands into his back pockets and banished all
negative thinking about hie brother with a quick shake of his head.  A
dead brother could do no wrong.  Respect was due his memory.  Respect
and then some.

"So where's Peter now?  You brought him with you, didn't you?"

"He's up in the room, playing video games."  She glanced at the wide
staircase with its dark, rustic banister.

"He insisted on bringing them along."

"He doesn't want to rough it-too hard?"

She shook her head and gave him an indulgent, just-between-adults look.

He let it pass.  The boy could have his video games and his hiking in
the woods both, no problem.  He could have a little taste of life on the
fez, maybe use it in a school essay in the fall, and tell his friends
all about how his uncle, the chairman of the Pine Lake Band of Chippewa,
had taken him fishing.

The boy was welcome to take all that back with him.  And then some.

Respect, and then some. No, Gideon didn't really give a damn about the
boy bringing his video games. But he did give a damn about being
ignored. "It's been over two years, Rolna.  I haven't seen either of you
since the funeral."

"You know where we live," she said breezily.

Too breezily.  His flat stare was intended to remind her that he'd never
been there.  He was never invited.

He wasn't sure she got the point.

"You do get down to the Cities once in a while, don't you?"  she asked.

"I saw you on TV recently.  You were in St.  Paul, I believe."

"Meeting with some people from the Depa~haent of Natural Resources about
this treaty issue." Okay, may he he was being a little stubborn.  Going
back to the Cities was never easy.  The best way to avoid old haunts was
to stick to a business agenda.  He never looked anybody up.  Never tried
any of the restaurants people suggested, never even stayed overnight
unless he had to.  But when he did, there were times when.  "I thought
about calling you." ',I've thought about that, too.  About coming back,
about establishing some sort of ties.  " Too quickly, she added, " For
Peter's sake.  " "Of course.  For Peter's sake."  Too quickly, he smiled
and gave an open-handed gesture.

"So, for Pete's sake, here you are.  And you look great, as always."

"You do, too.  Your job seems to agree with you, Gideon." Defender ~ 21
"It agreed with me better when I was a hunting and fishing guide,
working for a good outfitter.  Back when I first met you, I think that
might have been the best job I'll ever have."  With a look, he told her
that he didn't expect anyone else to he impressed.

"Now, here I am, bucking tradition.  Too young to he a tribal leader.

But they voted me in, so what the hell.  " He caught himself patting his
breast pocket for the cigarettes he'd all but given up, and he nodded
toward the restaurant.  " Let's go get some coffee.  "

She tipped her head in assent, and he gestured for her to lead the way.

"Rumor has it that you're a refreshing change," she said as the hostess
seated them near a sunny window. "Quite progressive, in fact."  She
declined the proffered menu, "Just coffee for me, please.,"

"Yeah, well.,."  He spared the waitress a two-finger sign and a nod.

He was suddenly more interested in telling Raina what he was about these
days, since she'd brought it up.  If she hadn't been impressed back
then, maybe she would he now. Not that it mattered anymore.  But just
for the hell of it.  "The longer I hold this job, the more respect I
gain for traditional thinking.  The only problem is, the rest of the
world doesn't get it,"

He braced his forearm on the edge of the table and leaned closer.

"They're into money power.  They don't understand traditional values.

They don't have any respect for spiritual power.  "

Raina nodded, her eyes alight with interest.

"That's why we're here.

Peter needs to know more about what it means to be Chippewa.  Without
Jared, I"-- Her voice dropped into that confessional tone again.

"I'm kind of at a loss, because, you know, I'm not..."

He watched her align her flat ware with the edge of the table, and he
wondered which part of what she'd just said embarrassed her.  He didn't
think it was the Chippewa part--at least, he'd never gotten that
impression from her before.  Maybe it was her being at a loss for the
insight she was seeking on Peter's behalf.  Or maybe just being at a
loss for her husband.

He eyed the cigarette machine like a coyote sizing up a rabbit hutch.

Then he shook his head and sighed. "For somebody who always had a knack
for doing the right thing at the right time, my brother sure picked a
bad time to check out." "It wasn't his idea to have a heart attack." She
raised her eyes to his and smiled softly.

"I know you miss him as much as we do, Gideon."

He nodded once, almost imperceptibly. "So you're looking for Uncle
Gideon to do a little straight-talking, man-to-man?"  Less than
comfortable with the assignment, he arched an eyebrow as he snatched a
toothpick from the holder on the table, peeled off the cellophane and
stuck the poor substitute for what he really wanted into the corner of
his mouth.

"Do you have any idea what I was like when I was
twelvo-going'-on-twenty?"

"Hell on wheels would be my guess."

"And you'd be right on."  His smile faded.

"Peter knows he's adopted, right?"

"He's thrown that up to me once or twice lately.

"You're not my real morn."  " She leaned back as the coffee was served.

"I try not to show it; but that one really hurts."

"I don't know much about kids, Raina.  If I heard him say something like
that, I'd probably...."  Probably what?  He'd hardly known his own
father, so he was short on memorable examples.

"Well, I'd probably say the wrong thing."

Defender 23 "I probably already have."  She added cream to her coffee
and stirred until the mixture was well past blended.  "Listen, I know
you're busy. I don't expect you to entertain us.  I thought if Peter
could meet some people, maybe some kids his age, and participate in some
of the"-- " It might be.  a little risky.  " Avoiding her eyes, he
sipped his coffee.

"Why?"

"Because he might run into" -- He was tempted to say more complications
than culture, but that would sound like a defeatist attitude. "Some
problems, maybe.  You never know.  A lot of people are up in arms over
this treaty issue.  We don't have much land left, but we've got a treaty
that says we've got major hunting and fishing rights, and we're suing
the state over it.  So the non-Indian landowners and the resorts and the
sportsmen's groups, they're making all kinds of threats.  The tourist
trade is down this summer because of all the controversy."  He wrapped
both hands around the mug of coffee, took a deep breath and admitted
with a sigh, "It's not a good time to learn about being an Indian."

"What would be a good time?  When there is no controversy?"

He chuckled. "Good point.  We'd need a time machine to take us back a
few hundred years, wouldn't we?  But I don't know about" -- Right here,
right now.  What he should have told her was that he didn't have the
time.  That would Settle it, at least for the time being. But he had a
strange feeling that the die had been cast and that there was no point
in trying to change the numbers that had come up. They would just come
back.  Sooner or later, the same combination would turn up again. Raina,
Peter and Gideon.  Along with maybe a ghost or two. Gideon glanced at
the door, as though he were expecting someone to come through it and
rescue him.  Jared, maybe. The brother who did everything by the book.
Read it to me, brother.

Where do I go from here?

"It might be a better idea if we got together someplace else.  Neutral
territory? Neutral?  I don't understand, Gideon.  Am I unwelcome here?
This was my husband's home.  "

He gestured with an exception-taking forefinger.

"It was a place your husband put behind him, with very little time spent
looking back."

"Not on my account.  I never really understood why' he stayed away.

Believe me, I never asked him to.  In fact, if he'd wanted to, I would
have"-- " It doesn't matter anymore.  We made our choices, the three of
us, and it worked out the way it worked out.  " He leaned back in the
booth, taking a moment to study her, to wonder what she would have done
if he had asked her.  Since he'd denied himself the chance, he didn't
want to know the answer, but there had been many a time when he'd. taken
an awful kind of pleasure in torturing himself with that question, and
others, But those were the days when he'd taken his pleasure where he
could get it.  No more. "So you're back again.  Full circle, Raina." And
she would find that things had changed some, Gideon had changed.  He
tipped the coffee mug, studied the contents as' though he were reading
tea leaves, ~ nodded.

"You need a fishing guide, I guess I'm your man."

"I'm not asking you to just drop everything on such short notice.  I
mean, I know you're much too..."

"Too what?"

"Too busy now.  I'm sure." "You're not sure."  He shook his head slowly,
half smiling, taking a new and perverse pleasure in protracting her
discomfort.

"Not about me, Raina.  You never were."

Defender 25 He tried to dismiss the uncomfortable sense of foreboding
that plagued him as he followed her up the stairs.  If he could handle
himself around lawyers and politicians, he could surely deal with a
twelve-year-old kid without getting warm in the face and sweaty in the
palms. "Course, maybe that was just a reaction to following Raina up the
stairs.  He had to remind himself that she wasn't taking him to her
bedroom, the way he used to dream she would back when he was a man of
large cravings and little character.  She was asking him to do her a
service, not to service-her, and, damn his own hide, it was the least he
could do. But seeing the boy for the first time in over two years,
actually seeing the boy with the controls of a child's game in his hands
and what had to be man-size tennis shoes on his feet, was a real
gut-twister.  Before the boy even' opened his mouth, he reminded Gideon
of Jared.  Spitting image, just in the way he moved his hands and the
way he spared only a glance for the two people who had entered his
domain when he was clearly occupied with important business.  Like
father, like son, Gideon told himself ironically.  He found himself
digging deep for an easy, breezy smile as he offered the boy a
handshake.

"How's it going, Peter?  You remember me?"

"Sure."  One last jiggle on the game control elicited an artificial
explosion from the TV.  Peter gave a victorious nod, switched the
machine off and accepted Gideon's greeting.  "You're Uncle Gideon.  You
took my dad and me fishing once."

"Seems like a long time ago, doesn't it?"

"It was.  I was just a little kid.  I remember, though."  then stepped
back as he measured a foot and a half of space between his hands.

"I

caught a fish that was like this long.  " "Close."  Gideon shoved his
hands in his pockets as he looked the boy over.  Damn, he'd gotten tall.

"The three of us had fun that time, didn't we?"

"Yeah, I guess it was pretty good." "Wanna try it again?"  With a
gesture, Gideon invited Raina to join in the reunion.

"Take your mom along this time?"

"I guess that's what we're here for."  Peter shot his mother a sullen
look.

"It was this or else get dragged to someplace like Disney World."

"Peter actually chose Pine Lake over Disney World," Raina confirmed.
"Well, that doesn't surprise me.  Hundreds of people choose Pine Lake
over Disney World."  Gideon clapped ahand on Peter's bony shoulder. "A
born fisherman just naturally knows where to come for the best walleye
fishing in the countl'y." "But we reali~,e you have tribal business to
attend to, Gideon, and Peter and I don't want to get in the way of your"
-- "You won't be in my way."  Gideon slid his hand from the boy's
shoulder, disappointed that his friendly gesture hadn't changed the
guarded look in Peter's eyes.  He turned to Raina. "But we've had a
little trouble lately, juSt so you know.  A couple of incidents down at
the public boat landings made the local news." "I haven't heard about
any real violence," Raina said.  "No violence so far. Just some verbal
confrontations between some of the so-called sportsmen's groups and some
of our people."  He shrugged. "Rednecks versus Indians.  Same old story.
A lot of name-c~fling.  Some threats tossed back and forth.  The kind of
stuff you don't want your kids to hear."  Anybody's kids, he thought,
recalling the vulgar words thrown around like hot potatoes in a game no
kid Defender 27 needed to be taught to play.

"Adults set ~ the kind of example you wish kids didn't have to see."

"Kids know how to form their own opinions," Peter claimed. "Anybody ever
ask you for yours?"  Gideon asked.  He was inclined to try laying a
friendly hand on Peter's shoulder again, but the look in the boy's eyes
warned him not to push.

"I mean, like your friends or your teachers at school?

They know you're Chippewa, right?  "

"They know I'm an Indian."

A distant look came into the boy's eyes.  Gideon knew exactly what it
meant, and he knew why Raina glanced away.  She knew, too, but not from
experience. And that was what troubled her most.

"Do they have a problem with that?"  Gideon asked gently.

"No way, not my friends," Peter declared defensively.  Then, with a
shrug, he qualified his claim. "One guy asked me why Indians thlnir they
should have special fishing privileges, like higher limits and using
spears and some kind of " Gill nets," Gideon supplied.

"So what did you tell him?"

Peter shrugged again. "I told him I didn't know anything about any
special privileges.  I've only been fishing about three times in my
entire life, and I used a pole."  He looked to Gideon for confirmation.

"I did, didn't I?  I don't remember any weird kind of nets or anything."

"You used a rod and reel, and I had you casting pretty good for such a
little guy." "I can't exactly see me throwing a spear into the water
like some kind of wild man."  28 Defender Gideon laughed, even though,
deep down, he hurt for the boy's choice of words.

"You're not much of a wild man, huh?"

"Maybe with a joystick, but not a spear.  Besides, from what I hear, if
Indians get to use spears and nets, pretty soon there won't be any
walleye left in the lakes." "Really?"  Peter's assumptions echoed the
accusations being bandied back and forth in the media and the halls of
the Minnesota legislature lately.  It chilled him to real ire that' it
wasn't just the so-called sportsmen he had to worry about.  It was the
kids Peter's age who had no reason to question what they were hearing.
The books from which they learned their history told a distorted story.
Popular culture had turned' his people into stereotypes and
foolish-looking mascots.  The critics were legion, and there were so few
Indian voices left to be heard And for Peter, who was growing up
surrounded by caricatures and critics~ it must have been scary to hear
all this stuff about Indians, then look in the mirror and see himself,
living and breathing inside real Chippewa skin.  It had to make him
wonder, What the hell is this all about?

And Jared had neglected to leave the answer book behind.

Which left Gideon.

He gestured instructively.

"Spearfishing is a sport that non-Indians indulge in during the winter,
so they've made sure it's legal then. But spearfishlng for our people is
a food-gathering skill.  We have traditionally practiced it in the
spring for hundreds of years.  And there are still plenty of walleye.  "
"Yeah, but they say there won't be if you guys get your way."  Hearing
himself, Peter instinctively looked to his mother for help, then shook
his head, as though coming to Defender 29 his senses.

"I mean, if the Indians get this treaty settlement thing."

"Who says that?"  Gideon asked.

Peter shrugged.

"I don't know.  Some of the guys whose families have lake cabins and
stuff." "What they say and what's true are often two different things.
Our people have never endangered the fish, and we don't ever intend to."
Now it was time, welcome or not, for Gideon to lay that friendly hand on
Peter's shoulder again.  The boy did, indeed, need him. "I think your
mother's right.  It's time you did a little fishing with your uncle
Gideon." Chapter 2 Gideon had taken her fi.  ~hing only once before.
They'd had a good time together--the best of times.  And the worst, as
well.  As she pulled on a comfortable pair of khaki slacks, Raina
remembered how the day had begun all those years ago with an
admonishment from her roommate, Paula, to "dress warm."

She had bundled up in her down-filled jacket and her insulated boots.

The snow pants she'd borrowed were so thickly padded that she could
barely bend her knees as she climbed into Gideon's battered green
pickup.  Lifting her 'onto the blanket-covered seat was like tossing an
armload of satin pillows onto an army cot, he'd teased. Oh, she
remembered that deep, rich chuckle close to her ear.  She couldn't have
worn enough layers to protect her from the quick shiver that exciting
sound had sent shimmying from the side of her neck to the tips of her
toes. Gideon had always had a way with shivers, a way that con Defender
~1 tinually challenged her to anticipate his next move.  It had been a
talent too titillating, too unpredictable.

It had scared her.  silly.

And silly was the way she remembered behaving when she'd ventured
reluctantly onto the frozen lake.  The glare from the distant winter sun
had nearly snow-blinded her.  Despite Gideon's assurances that the ice
was well over a foot thick, she hadn't been able to forget that it
wasn't all ice.  That there was still water down there somewhere. Deep,
cold, breath-stealing water that would swallow her up if her foot found
a patch of thin ice .  "It could happen," Raina insisted.  She tea ted
her footing and found that, sure enough, ice was ice, and it was
slippery.

"I've read about shifting currents, treacherous weak spots."

"I've got a treacherous weak spot, darling'."  He was unloading fishing
gear from his pickup, but be managed to shift the tackle box and cooler
to one arm so be could steady her with the other.

"Deep down in my heart, and I think its got your name on it."

"What a line."  She laughed as she slipped her arm around his waist. "So
corny it's actually sweet," she quipped, playfully bumping hips with him
as they slip-slid toward the little fishing shack he'd said belonged to
a friend of his.

Sweet corn makes a good side dish, don't you think?"

"What's the main dish?"

"You are."

She looked up, feigning surprise.

He dropped a quick kiss on her pouty mouth.

"Come on, now, you should've seen that one coming."

"I did.  I decided to accommodate you, since you're the host."

 32 Defender "Guide," he corrected.

"The man who's gonna show you the way, sweetheart."

"The way to... ?"  ' "Heaven."  He gave a sly wink as he shoved a key
into the padlock on the door.

"Or supper.  Take your pick."

She was tempted to tell him that she really wanted heaven.  Might as
well admit it right off the bat.  Everything about him aid sexy.  The
way he walked, the way he laughed, the way he wore his jeans,
everything.  The trouble was, Raina was wary of heights.  She believed
in working her way up, testing all the footholds along the way.
Meanwhile, she wanted a third choice.  She liked the word maybe.  Maybe
later, in a few weeks or months, after they'd shared lots of suppers and
made commitments, maybe then Heaven sounded awfully good to her. With
Gideon, nothing came easily, not even a simple ~supper.  He did make ice
fishing look simple, even with a spear, which required a larger hole
than the icehouse would allow.  So he dazzled her with his skill several
yards away from the house, and then they took his catch inside.  She was
surprised to find that the little house actually had chairs and a card
table inside. There was a small heater, and Gideon had brought a camp
stove for cooking. Once he'd gotten the appliances going, he squat led
next to a hole that had been drilled in the middle of the floor and
began chipping away at the ice that had formed since the last time the
icehouse had been used.

"What's that for?"  Raina asked.

"Don't we have enough?"

 "No appreciation for the sport," he complained to the hole in the ice.

"This is our excuse for being out here.  Otherwise we look pretty
stupid, sitting out here in the middle of a frozen lake."  He grinned up
at her, his hands braced on his knees as he prepared to stand.
"Officially, it's Defender 33 your line that's going down here.  I'm
giving you the chance to catch the big one, darling', so you can brag to
your friends."

 "A hook at the end of a line is my best chance," she agreed.

"Obviously I'll never have your talent for spear" It takes practice.
Either that or you have to be born to it.  " He stood, ducking to avoid
bumping his head on the low roof.  His baiting smile loomed over her.
"As you've probably heard, some of us just naturally come complete with
the necessary equipment." "You might find this hard to believe," she
said, returning a coy smile, "but some of us are perfectly content to
let you carry that particular burden around with you constantly."  ' He
chuckled appreciatively as he rummaged through his tackle box, and she
figured she was racking up points for her side.  He handed her several
pieces of tackle.  "Ah, yes."

She looked them over, ostensibly weighing them in her hands.

"The hook, line and sinker are so much less cumbersome." "Maybe."  Going
about the business of setting a line, he sank into an ice-fisherman's
crouch.

"But I'll bet you're gonna ask me to bait yours for you."

She returned the bits of tackle he'd given her, with a prim "If you
insist."  She didn't know what to do with the stuff, anyway.  She
unzipped her jacket.

"Here, I'll trade you."

It surprised her when he produced a pint of whiskey from his box of
supplies, sampled it, then extended it her way.

"Help yourself.  Warm yourself up inside."

"I'm fine, thanks."  She wasn't sure what bothered her about it.  Maybe
it was just the idea of nipping from a hot-fie, or the fact that she'd
felt as though she were on a roll  34 Defender with her clever repartee
and suddenly he'd suggested a different kind of fun.  The kind that made
her nervous.

"A lit-fie too warm, in fact."

"Nice and cozy, isn't it?" He didn't seem to notice the change in her
tone.  Which was fine.  She didn't want him to.  She wasn't a kid
anymore, and he surely wasn't.

In fact, she found it hard to imagine that he ever had been.

He took another drink, then pointed with the bottle toward the hole.
"Your job is to watch that line.  I'll fry up the first course while you
catch the second."  Again he offered the whiskey.

"Maybe you haven't heard, but this is part of the fun of ice fishing."

"I don't know how you can drink it straight like that," she said,
shaking the bottle off with a grimace.

"Your trusty guide will show you how."  He took a longer sip this time.

"Easy as sin, once you get past the initial burn."

"With sin, the burn comes later, doesn't it?"

"When I find out, I'll give you a holier."  His naught3 grin was
enticing.

"All it takes is one belt to chase the chill."

"I'm not cold."  In answer to that grin of his, her indulgent smile
probably looked prudish.

"Neither are you."

"No, but I'm sinful."  And it didn't bother him one Neither did her
prudishness.  He favored her with another of his charming winks.  " "
And you're not quite sure whether it turns you on or scares the hell out
of you. " Rather than admit to both, she stood silent, and he went about
his cooking. She was more interested in watching Gideon than watching
the fishing line. His broad shoulders seemed to fill one whole side of
the ice shack.  HIS size dwarfed the little camp stove over which he
happily busied himself cooking their meal.  The truth was that every
move he made turned her on, even the occasional nip he took Defender 35
from the bottle.  He probably didn't realize that in high school she'd
had a reputation for being somewhat aloof. She glanced at the hole in
the ice and smiled to herself.  The term "cold fish" had been band'~i
about, actually.  Not that it mattered, since she'd dated only boys she
could count on to he, well, almost as scrupulous in their behavior as
she was. All right, the truth was that the boys with the unscrupulous
reputations never asked her out.  Not that they hadn't flirted with her
once in a while, and not that she hadn't occasionally flirted back.  But
going out with her would have been a waste of a precious Friday night
with the family car. Apparently her reputation hadn't preceded her when
she'd come to Pine Lake. The thought almost made her laugh out loud, and
the joke was on her, for imagining a locker-room network that extended
this far.  It was time to grow up, she told herself.  Time to stop
playing games.

Time to try a different kind of.  "You've got a bite there, daydreamer."

"What?"

Arms folded over his chest, Gideon stood there grinning down at her.

"If you weren't afraid to touch the thing, you'd have felt it."

"What thing?"

"The long thing" -- the look in his eyes grew deliciously devilish
"--that I dropped in the hole for you, sweetheart."  He chuckled.

"Your hook, line and sinker."

"Oh."  She reached for the line.

"What should I do?  Pull on it?"

"Too late now.  You lost him.  You scared him away with that word pull."
He sucked air through his teeth, as if the word pained him. "Use a light
touch, honey.  Jigging works better."  He turned back to his cooking,
clucking his tongue in mock disgust.

"Remember that when he gives you another chance."

 36 Defender In the end they had to make do with his catch, which made
the freshest-tasting fish dinner Raina had ever eaten.  She took off her
snow pants and used them for a chair cushion, and she and Gideon played
cards and listened to country music on the radio.  Gideon got a little
tight and played' the ham, crooning along with every tune while he
slapped his cards on the folding table with a flourish and beat her
three hands of whist out of five. Then he pulled her onto his lap and
started in with some playful kissing. Together they quickly heated up
the ice-house.  Before she knew what was happening she was straddling
him, and he was holding her hips steady while he rocked himself in her
cradle, pushed her jacket aside, opened her shirt and suckled her breast
until ~she moaned with exquisite pleasure. "Pretty as an angel," he
muttered, then nuzzled her hair aside from her ear and whispered, "but
are you willing to give the devil his due?"

"What devil?"

"You're sittin' on his lap, honey." "I doubt that."  She combed his
long, thick hair back from his temples with her fingers.  His hair was
as black and as beautiful as a raven's wing. "I'll buy 'sinner," but not
'devil.  "" "Sold," he said softly as he unsnapped her jeans.

"To the lady with the shiny halo."

"No, I'm not... no."  Her zipper was halfway down before she stayed his
hand with hers.  But he turned her hand and pressed it against his own
zipper and let her feel the hard bulge straining beneath it. "You wanna
pull on something, pull on my belt buckle, okay?"  He slipped his hand
inside her jeans, and the zipper gave the rest of the way.  He tucked
his thumb over the Defender 37 elastic at her waist.

"Do this to me," he entreated, his breath warm against her neck.

"Gideon, we can't.  Not now."  She tipped her head back and gulped cool
air. The plywood ceiling seemed so close.  "Not... here." "Not here and
now?"  His hand stirred at her waist.  His low voice sounded somehow
menacing.

"Or not you and me?"

She slid her hand away from his lap and put her arms over his shoulders.
Her pulse was racing so wildly, she wasn't sure she could achieve her
indulgent, godd~s-of-good-seuse smile, but' she gave it a shot.

"Have you drunk enough to make you forget that the floor is made of ice
here?"

"No."  The heated look he gave her was far from contrite.  "I'm not
drunk." "I didn't say you were."  She wanted him to kiss her.  Just kiss
her, and maybe.  "Gideon, don't look at me like that.  It scares me." "I
want to make love to you."  He tightened his hand at her waist, and the
heat in his eyes made her mouth go dry.  "Why would that scare you?"

"If you could see the look in your eyes..."  "I'm hungry for you,
Raina."

"It's more than that." There was a predatory gleam in his eyes, and she
suspected the whiskey was responsible for that.  She liked having
control, and this man threatened to take that from her.  He made her
scare herself.  He made her want to let go, just for a moment.  And
something told her that a moment would be all it would take.  He he
longed to the wilderness and the wildlife.  And Raina's world was much
too tame for him.  38 Defender "I could make it much more."  He nuzzled
the promise into the valley between her breasts and made her catch her
breath.

"I

could make you hungry for me.  " He already had, but she wouldn't
indulge herself.  Not with icy water lapping at a hole in a floor of ice
in a rickety shack in the middle of a frozen lake in the middle of
absolutely nowhere.  Lord!

Her hands trembled as she pushed against him.

"Please don't do this, Gideon." She slid off his lap awkwardly.  His
hand shot out, but only to keep her from stumbling into the hole in the
ice.

"Watch your step, little girl."

"I'm not a little girl." "My mistake," he muttered, eyeing the breasts
that were only partially curtaned by her open shirt. "But I'm certainly
not..."  Not what?  She felt foolish.  He was fully dressed.  She was
the one totally disheveled, panting, on the verge of screaming and
moaning at the same "Check your other line, honey."  He nodded toward
the hole in the ice.

"The name of the game is catch and release."

"I'm not playing a game," she said.

"Neither am I."

That was all it took with Gideon Defender. "Please don't."  The words
seemed to drive him back into the woods.  They had run into each other
at a party a few weeks later, and he had introduced her to his brother.
Then he'd stepped aside and quietly watched, as though he were testing
for her reaction.  It was a move she'd resented, and she'd told him so,
the same night she'd told him that Jared had asked her out and she'd
accepted.  He'd expressed no surprise, offered no objections, mentioned
no regrets.  Not that it would Defender 39 have mattered, since she'd
made up her mind.  But it had hurt.  Just a little. Jared had never
asked her how she'd felt about his brother.  Other than a certain
physical resemblance, the two brothers had little in common.  Jared had
a different brand of charm.  More practiced, perhaps.  More polished.
He had gone to the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis, while Gideon
had, for the most part, preferred to stay in the north country among the
people he'd grown up with, in touch with the life he knew.  In the end,
Jared had chosen Raina's world.

And Raina had chosen Jared.  "

They'd both wanted children, and when a pregnancy hadn't occurred soon
enough to suit Jared, they had adopted Peter.  Raina hadn't questioned
the decision when Jared announced that the opportunity for a baby had
unexpectedly presented itself.  His low sperm count was an issue he
neither wanted to discuss nor fret about.  He'd had some childhood
health problems that he didn't care to discuss, either.

They had been blessed with a perfectly beautiful son, and all was well.

For a time after that they had been a fairly typical suburban family.
Raina had quit her job to stay home with Peter until he started school,
and then she'd only worked outside their home part-time, while Jared had
worked too hard.  He'd found less and less time to be at home as his
time, unbeknownst to him, slipped away quickly. Eventually there had
been no chance for visits to Pine Lake, and then suddenly, irrevocably,
the time was gone. At least, h/s time was gone.  At first Raina had had
to remind herself that hers was not.  But not lately.  Ever s'mee
adolescence had overtaken her son and transformed him like some kind of
fairy-tale Curse, she had no trouble remembering that she had miles to
go and challenges to meet.

Like another fishing trip with Gideon.

 40 Defender "Are you ready, Peter?"  He'd been in the bathroom
forever.  A year ago, sixty seconds in the shower and he was out.  "You
know, your hair doesn't have to be perfect.  We're going out fishing.
Uncle Gideon said he'd pick us up at the dock in"-- The door finally
opened, and her son deigned to emerge.  His beautiful black hair was
still wet, so she assumed that the new pimple on his chin was the reason
for the stormy look in his eyes.  He was hoping for hair on his chin~
he'd informed her a few weeks ago when she'd tried to tell him that the
occasional pun pie was not the end of the world.  A man's beard, he'd
said.  Not a wimpy zit.

Rain, was not ready for either development.  Not quite yet.

"Why don't you just call him Gideon?"  Peter's scowl was ominous.

"He's not your uncle."

"He's your uncle.  He's your father's brother."

"Yeah, well ... where did you hide the damn hair dryer?"

"Peter, please don't talk like that."   She handed him the blow-dryer,
and he mumbled his thanks.

"You told me that this was where you wanted to come.

We're here.  The next step is to venture beyond this room.  " "It's been
a long time since I've been up this way."  Barefoot and so far dressed
only in his favorite ripped-knce jeans, he plopped on the rumpled bed
he'd claimed as his, then fell back as though he'd just run a marathon.
"I mean, I was just a kid.  I don't know h/re.  I don't know anybody
here, and I feel like I'm supposed to.  It's weird."

"I know."  She sat down beside him and patted one knobby knee.

"You miss your dad." "You always wanna blame everything on that."  He
pushed up on his elbows and looked her in the eye.

"It's not that."

"Tell me what's wrong, then." Defender 41 "Nothing's wrong.  Why does
something always have to be wrong?  I just" -- Dramatically he flopped
back down again.

"It isn't like what I thought it was gonna be."

"You haven't been out of the room yet."  She knew it was no use to ask
what he was looking for.  He didn't know.  "Let's go see what it's going
to be like.  Give it a chance.

"If it's no good, we'll go home."

He sat up. "Is there a damn plug around here?"  There went her chance to
use the bathroom. "Try" -- "Following the lamp cord, I know."  He dived
for the head of the bed and tossed pillows over his shoulder like an
overgrown pup burying a bone. She laughed and shook her head when he
announced, "Pay dirt."  Then he flopped on his belly and hung his head
over the side of the bed, brushing his hair forward. "You know what,
Rough?"  He tucked his chin and turned to look at her upside down.

"He seems pretty cobol."

"WhO?" She held out her hand for the dryer, making an offer she hoped
would hurry things along.  It was the kind of thing he might have asked
her to do for him a year or so ago.  Now he might be offended.  Then
again, he might take her up on it.  She never knew which way he was
going to jump next. "Uncle Gideon."  He plunked the dryer in her hand.
"Gideon.  You know what Dad told me once?  That his brother got all the
looks, and he got the brains." "Your father said that?"  She turned the
machine on low and directed it at his nape, gently finger-combing his
hair and feeling favored by his willingness to confide a remembrance,
and to still let her coddle him once in a while. So Gideon had all the
looks, huh?  He was the younger of the two, but physically, Gideon was
the big brother.  He'd certainly never shared Jared's taste for
expensive clothes, and she remembered Jared teas' rag Gideon about his
need  42 Defender for a barber once.  His 'hair wasn't as long as it
used to be, but it was still shoulder-length, still an attractive
expression of his own personality.  But nothing, surely, that Jared
would covet in any way. "That was a strange thing for him to say.  Your
dad was very handsome, and Gideon is..."  She shrugged.

"Gideon is Gideon."

Peter peeked up at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means it's been a long time since I've been up this way, too."   She
smiled and turned the dryer on full blast. Gideon was waiting, as promi.
~d.  He was sitting at the end of one of the 1odge's boat docks, basking
in the sun and chatting with a boy about Peter's age.  Below their
dangling tenni.  ~ shoes was a fishing boat with cushioned chairs and
two outboard motors--one.  for trolling. Gideon turned when he heard
footfalls treading the planks.  They were late, and Raina half expected
him to check his watch and ask where they'd been. But he smiled as he
hopped to his feet and tapped the boy on the shoulder, coaxing him to
follow suit.  Raina liked the way the spokes at the corners of his eyes
made his smile seem even brighter, and the easy way he handled himself
put everyone else at ease, too.  From the look of him, it appeared that
the years had been kinder to Gideon than they had been to his brother.
But then, maybe it was true, Raina thought.  Maybe Gideon had all the
looks. "This is Oscar Thompson.  He, s been camped out in my office ever
s'nice I told him I was thinking about going fishing pretty soon."  The
two boys shook hands.

"That was last May, wasn't it, Oscar?"

Oscar shrugged.

"Before school was out."

"See there?  And here we're going fishing already.  Fishing lesson
number one" -- Gideon squinted into the sun and Defender 43 brandished a
finger "--patience.  Everyone wants to go fishing with me, because
everyone knows..."

"He's got a good boat," Oscar put in.

"that o1' Gideon knows exactly where to go lookin' for Mr. Walleye.
Plus, I've got some extra tackle." He took a pair of aviator-style
sunglasses from his pocket, put them on as though he were' preparing to
read a sign and made a production of surveying Raina from head to toe.
"So, I see Mom's wearing the proper fishing attire, all nicely
coordinated.  Matching shoes and hat." Raina compared his cutoffs and
T-shirt with her neatly pressed yellow blouse and khaki slacks.

"Heck, I'm casual," she said.

"Don'~t you like my fishing hat?"

"It's very... yellow.  But I think we can fix that in a real hurry.

Right, boys?  " The round of male chuckles would have bothered her if it
hadn't been exactly what she'd come looking for.  For Peter sake, of
course.

"What about a license?"  Gideon asked.

"License?" "Fishing license.  See, the three of us are okay because we
have tribal ID." He arched an eyebrow in Peter's direction.  "You
brought yours along, I hope?" Peter cast an accusatory glance at the
person he considered responsible for the boring technical details of his
adolescent life--his mother--as he reported,

"I didn't know I had one."

"You do," she said.

"I brought it."

"You've got yourself a good secretary there, kid.  If you're smart,
you'll pay her well."  He turned to Raina.

"But no fishing license, huh?"

She shook her head.

He shook his, too.

"And you look just all heartbroken about it.  We can get you one over at
the tackle shop."

 44 Defender "I'll just go along for the ride this time."

"Good woman."  Gideon clapped a hand on each boy's shoulder.

"Then we're set."

Raina let the good woman comment go unchallenged.  She didn't want to
question anything, justify anything or fish for anything.  Just going
along for the ride was exactly what the' doctor had ordered.  It was
early evening, the best time of a summer's day. The sun's slanted rays
became bright flashes in the water.  When the boat was moving, she could
close her eyes and catch the wind in her face while her hand trailed in
the cool wake.  When they anchored in the shallows, she could simply
enjoy her son's growing excitement for the relaxing sport as Gideon
patienfiy tutored his casting arm. "Good catch."  Gideon gave Peter a
shoulder slap of approval.  "Now take him off the hook and throw him
back."  Peter looked up in near horror.

"Throw him back?"

"We're fishing for supper for the four of us."  Gidcon appraised the
small wriggling crappie that Peter had just pulled proudly from the
water.  "That's guy's not worth bothering with.  We want nice,
pan-sized" -- "Gideon, I think that's a wonderful fish!"  Raina
sharpened her bright tone with a defensive edge.

"A beautiful fish.  I think we should have it stuffed and mounted."

"This isn't like bronzing his baby shoes, Raina.  We're looking for
food." He nodded toward the cooler containing the fish Oscar had already
caught.

"Right, Pete?"

"I guess so."  Peter looked at his catch again.

"He's too small, huh?"

Those motherly instincts would not rest.  A quick justification tingled
on the tip of Raina's tongue.

But Gideon headed her off with a warning glance.

"Put him down in the water and see if he's gonna make it.  We don't
return dead fish to the lake." Defender 45 Peter complied, his face
brightening when, revived by the water, the little fish flipped its tail
and swam away. "There, see?"  Gideon watched the boy's first catch in
six years head out to the middle of the lake.  He promised himself, it
wouldn't be the last one for this season.  Not by a long shot.  "He's a
survivor, like us.  If we catch you next year, brother fish, you'll make
a fine meal." They dropped their lines again.  Once Peter had caught a
pan-worthy fish, Gideon put in at the public boat landing, where he
would take his boat out of the water.  There was no one else walling to
use the boat ramp, and his pickup and trailer were parked in the public
parking lot.  Soon he would be cooking up a meal for Raina and the boys.
Soon he would he able to show her that he had a little place of his own
now.  He'd been looking forward to this day for a long time. Gideon cut
the motor, while Oscar took up his assigned post in the bow and prepared
to catch a mooring.  As the boat drifted toward the dock, Gideon smelled
trouble.  The odor came from the four young men who w~ere hanging out
right where Gideon planned to step ashore.  The s'~us were all
there--the four accusatory stares, the folded arms, the set of the jaws.
The gist of the quick comments passed among them was easily interpreted
visually--Gideon didn't need to hear those words.  He had heard it all
before.

"I'll fie her up, Oscar," Gidcon said quietly.

But it was too late to switch places. "I've got it," Oscar muttered,
reaching for a piling as the boat drifted in to the dock. They could
have been ordinary boaters or fishermen--and most days they probably
were.  They sure didn't look like anybody's idea of a gang, but the
tough-kid posturing was there--the insolence, the confidence in bully
power.

 46 Defender The first man to speak wore a Redskins T-shirt.

"You got any illegal nets in there, chief?" "Do you know who you're
talking to?"  Oscar looked up, scowling as he slipped the nylon rope
around the post.

"He is the chief."

"I don't give a damn if he's Tonto him.e~if," the man said' as he
adjusted the bill of his Twins cap.

"You guys out spearing fish today?"

"Nobody's spearing any fish."  Gideon grabbed the piling, planted one
foot on the dock and rose to tower over the gang's spokesman. "Oh, yeah?
So you claim."  The man stepped back, his friends covering his flanks as
he jabbed a finger at Gideon.  "You guys better drop this little plan to
get special privileges for yourselves.  There's no way you're gonna
start netting and spearing in these waters.  The sports fishermen in
this state won't stand for it."

"You're in my way," Gideon said calmly.

"No, you're in my way."  The man settled one hand on his hip, but on the
other hand, that finger was still jabbing.  "You're trying real hard to
get in my way."

Gideon returned a level stare.

"This gesture shows me that you have no manners.  Touch me with it, and
you will have no finger." The man sniggered, then checked to make sure
he wasn't alone and sniggered again.  But the finger came down. This was
a public landing.  Gideon had half a notion to punch this blockhead's
lights out.  He could take him easy, and the three jerks backing him to
boot.  A few years back there would have been no question.  Just
impulse.  But now, besides the fact that he had a woman and two kids
with him, he had to remember who he was and what he stood for. Damn.
Standing for more than just Gideon Defender could he a royal pain
sometimes.  He couldn't walk away and Defender 47 leave Raina and the
boys with the boat as long as these guys were standing there.  He was
go' rag to have to back down and take the boat back to the lodge rather
than load it up here and take his guests up the road to his cabin.  He
didn't have his own dock.  Couldn't afford it.  This was prime tourist
territory.  Thanks to all the damn treaties, ~he Pine Lake Band was land
poor.  Three thousand meager acres and some hunting and fishing rights
were all they could call their own. The only dock space they actually
owned was at the lodge.  Public landing? Hell.

"You need any help getting your boat out of the water, Gideon?"

No one had noticed the timely appearance of Bill Lucas, a conservation
officer with the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources.  The gang of
four didn't seem too pleased when they turned to find him walking up
behind them.

But Gideon was glad to hear his old friend's voice.

"Not if these boys would just step aside so I can go get my pickup."
Bfll's uniform probably had something to do with the way the small crowd
parted for him.

"You boys have a problem with that?"

"No problem at all," the Redskins fan said, "unless they're taking more
than their rightful limit."

"How does that concern you?  I don't see a badge on any of you."

"I own a cabin on this lake."  The claim was made by one of the three
backups. "Along with my dad, that is.  That's how it concerns me.  All
this talk of the state cutting' some kinda deal with the Indians, I was
just tellin' this one here, we're not gonna stand for any gill nets, and
none of their " You talk to your legislator about it.  You call the
attorney general's office," Bill suggested. "You don't bother  48
Defender these people.  This is a public landing.  We don't want any" --
The Twins cap got another adjustment as its wearer did some more
posturing. "We just want to let 'era know what's comin' down the pike if
they don't drop this thing.  You know what happened in Wiscons'm."
"We're trying to avoid the kind of trouble they had over treaty rights
in Wisconsin.  Same treaty we're dealing with here.  In the end the
court sided with the Indians, and the state lost big."  B'fil glanced
his friend's way. "Gideon here's Chippewa.  He can go over to Wiscons'm
and do all the spear fishing and gill netting the tribal code allows."
"Yeah, well, go on over to Wisconsin, then, 'cause you ain't getting'
anywhere with that here."  The four started edging away as the summer
cabin owner made his final point, driving his finger toward the dock
like a nail.

"We won't stand for it here."

His buddy added his concur renee--a quick glare and another adjustment
of the baseball cap--and the four sauntered down the dock toward a dub
cab four-wheel drive pickup that was parked at the end. "His family's
probably been coming up to their summer cabin on the lake for what--two,
three generations?"  Gideon's gesture was one of empty-handed
frustration. "You know how long my family's lived on this lake
year-round?  You know how many generations, Bill?"

"No, do you?"  B'fil raised his palms and chuckled as he shook his head.

"No, don't answer that.  You'll he red ting the whole history for me
again."

"For you guys it's history, for us it's tradition."

 "Either way, anybody can see you've got a good ease."   Bill shrugged.
"Anybody with an open mind, that is.  Seems like the more we talk this
compromise up, the more guys like that dig in their heels.  Never gonna
change his mind."

Defender 49 "Then we'll end up in court."

Bill nodded.  The department recognized that possibility.  And dreaded
the likely outcome. Gideon turned his attention to the boat and the
three people who were waiting for him.  He leaned down to offer Raina a
hand. "Catch anything?"  Bill asked Oscar, who was still in charge of
mooring the boat.

Oscar smiled.

"Supper."

And that had always been just what fishing meant to Gideon's people.

Supper. Chapter3 Supper was a joint project.  Gideon had done some
shopping with the intention of pleasing his guests at any cost.  Raina
was amused by the choice of skim milk or whole, butter or margarine,
white potatoes or red. "Or rice.  If anyone hates potatoes, I've got
rice."  He offered every salad leaf imaginable, dark bread or light
bread, three flavors of ice cream, for which he was sorry he didn't have
any marshmallow cream. "Marshmallow cream?"  Peter pretended instant
nausea.  "Hey, that stuff's good, man," Oscar said.  "Are you starting a
restaurant?"

Raina wondered with an appreciative smile.

Gideon shrugged.

"I know kids have sensitive taste buds."

"I'll eat anything," Oscar promised.  And he did.  He ate everything.
"Me too."  But Peter asked for his fish--the one he'd caught
himself--red potatoes and blue cheese on his salad. Defender 51 The blue
cheese was one request Gideon hadn't anticipated.  "Ne~t time," he
promised. Raina liked his house, and she made a point of telling him so.
It had no feminine touches and didn't need any.  Made of logs and
furnished with a functional combination of old chairs and new stereo
equipment, it was comfortable.  And it was Gideon. After supper he and
Raina sat on the little screened porch at the back of the house,
enjoying the chorus of crickets, listening to the water lapping at the
shore 'ime, sharing coffee.  He had a view of the lake, which glislened
with the pink and purple shades of twilight, but he possessed no pricey
piece of lakeshore.  He didn't have much of a yard, but he was within
shouting distance of the end of the neighbor's dock, where the boys sat,
dangling their feet in the water like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. "When
you guys get tired of donating blood, there's a can of powwow cologne up
here," he called out.  Through the dusky shadows, he smiled at Raina.

"Spedally formulated to ward off the Minnesota state bird."

"Mosquito repellent?" "Want some?  I think there's a hole in the screen
somewhere."  She shook her head. "Not your scent, huh?  Yours is more
flowery."  He leaned across the arms of the wicker chairs they occupied,
the arm of his touching the arm of hers, and drew a deep breath. Another
mistake, he thought, as his blood rushed to harden his sex.  That scent
was all it took.

"The same one you always wore."

"One bottle lasts me a long lime," she said, as though it might possibly
be a relic from years past. "Actually, I haven't worn it in a while.  I
haven't been dressing up much, or..."  It sounded like an apology.

"Perfume is one of the frivolities I'd all but given up lately."

 52 Defender "Nice touch for a fishing expedition."  He wanaxt to keep
his thoughts to himself, so he geased,

"Classy bait."

"It wasn't" -- 'Intentional, I know," It was working its magic on him
anyway.

"I

don't know what to make of this visit, Raina.  After all thin time, you
suddenly show up with"-- " Peter.  I came for Peter's sake.  " Byway of
apology, she touched his arm. "That's becoming a familiar refrain for
me, isn't it?  And it's not the whole truth."  Her sigh seemed distant
in the near darkness. "I never intended to stay away.  I enjoyed
l~aching here.  We had friends here, and Jared's family, of course.  I
suggested to him once that we leave the rat race and come back here.  !
thought may he he'd like, to offer the Pine Lake Band his legal
services, and I could go back to leaching."  She sighed and shook her
head, remembering her husband's answer.  "" You can't go home again,~.

he'd say.  And that always bothered me.  "

"Why?"

"Because I was afraid it was because of me that he stayed away.

Because of me that he was so"-- she waved her hand, the gesture
evaporating into the shadows " --driven to succeed.  And that's what
killed him.  That's what"-- " Are you looking for credit or blame?  "
His tone sounded sharp~ than he'd intended.  He tempered it.

"Either way, you're way off base.

Jared was always ambitious.  I'm surprised he came back here when he
did, even for a short time.  " He remembered Jared's explanation.  The
high school history lincher had quit in the middle of the school year,
and Jared needed to earn some money so he could continue with law
school.

"But if he hadn't, he wouldn't have met you."

 "If you hadn't introduced us..." "It might have prolonged the agony
for, what, another week?"  He'd told himself they would have met,
anyway, even though she was an elementary schoolteacher.  For some
Defender 53 reason, Gideon had wanted it to he h/s idea when she met his
brother.

"What agony?"

"You and me."  He chuckled, remembering.

"Fire and " You were the one who had a thing for ice.  "

"You hetI did."

"And a thing for firewater."

"That, too," he admitted quietly.

"Which wasn't your style.  And neither was I."

"Nor I yours.  So you introduced me to your brother."

Afler several moments of seemingly Iespectful silence, he asked,

"Do you mis shim Raina?" She turned, ready to challenge his insolence,
but the words dissolved on the tip of her tongue when she saw the
distant look in his eyes.

And the sadness.

"Do you ever think you hear his voice and go looking out the window,
just for a second actually expecting him to be there?" "Your voice
sounds exactl~ like his on the phone."  She remembergd his call early
one morning.  No hello, no name, just a voice, a continuation of a
dream.  He'd said he was sending her some old yearbooks.  She'd stmggied
to find more than a two-word answer. "A bit unsettling in kind of a
bittersweet way," she told him now in the hope that, if he remembered,
he would forgive her reticence after the fact.  But he had other
recollections to share. "We were dose when we were kids, up until he
went away to boarding school. They wanted me to go, too, but..."  He
shook his head, the way he had back then. "No way.  I'd heard all about
how strict those nuns were.  Make you study so hard you get cross-eyed.
When Jared had to get glasses, I got to say "I told you so."  I don't
know why, but he really liked that.  Studied so hard he had to have
glasses.  "  54 Defender Gideon slid down and rested his head against
the back of the chair. "He was there for three or four years before they
sent him home.  They found out he had a heart murmur, and I guess he'd
been sick with pneumonia, and they were scared something might happen to
him.  He looked okay to me.  All I know is, it nearly.  killed him right
then, 'cause he was making straight A's.  He said the school here was
too easy for him."  Gideon shook his head slowly, rolling it back and
forth against the chair.

"Damn show-off.  Too easy for him.  I was lucky to graduate."

"He said you hated school."

"He was right, Damn desks were too small."

"He thought he'd outgrown his heart problem," she recalled.  "At least,
that was what he told me." "He knew it all, my brother.  Knew all there
was to know about everything. Damn walking encyclopedia."  He turned his
head her way. "I used to think he could probably walk on water and
recite the Bible backwards if he wanted to.  And it was the kind of
thing he just might do if somebody challenged him to."  His smile was a
bright spot in the dark.  "Me, I couldn't see taking up a challenge
unless there was some fun in it." "We saw so little of you after we were
married, Gideon."  She looked him in the eye, challenging him for the
truth.

"Why was that?"

"You were busy, and I was, you know, knockin' around."  He turned his
attention to the ceiling. "You think you've got all the time in the
world, you know?  You tell yourself, maybe next summer, maybe Christmas.
Last time I talked to him, I called to tell him.I was running for
chairman.  I thought, if I got elected, we'd kinda be" -- with a wave of
a hand, he minimized the notion "--on equal footing in a way."

"In what way?"

Defender 55 "I don't know.  Importance, I guess.  Here we're like an
apple and an orange, but I'm thinkin'" -- He cut off the comparison so
abrupfiy, she thought he'd bitten his tongue.  "Forget I said apple.  I
didn't mean apple.  I'd give anything just to have one d~ay back--one
hour."

"What's wrong with 'apple'?"

"You know, red on the outside, white on the inside.  Some of the more
traditional Indiaus get disgusted when" -- He gave a quick shrug.

"I

remember calling him that a time or two, along with a few other things.
I had no right to judge my brother.  Right now, today, I'd like to hear
some of his answers.  But damn him, he took them all with him.  " "
Tribal law wasn't his field," Raina said quiefiy. "Doesn't matter.. He'd
have the answers.  He always did.  Good answers, not just bull" -- "I
mi~ him, too, Gideon."  There, she thought.  She'd finally answered his
original question.  She'd made him work for it, too.  It was the biggest
chunk of himself he'd ever shared with her.  He'd earned some trust. "So
does Peter.  Peter has so many questions about so many things.  Things I
only know about secondhand."

"Because you're a woman?"

"And because I'm not Chippewa."  She sighed. "And also, I guess, because
I know very little about his background.  Jared was able to make all the
arrangements through the tribal court, even though he was born in a
Minneapolis hospital.  That's where we got him.  He was so little,
so..."  Her wistful smile faded.

"Anyway, I know he needs ... someone like you."  She shook her head.

"No-- you.  He needs you, Gideon.  You're his uncle.  You are Chippewa,
and you're" -- "Hell, lately some people have called me 'apple."  Taste
of my old insult, comin' back at me.  " He chuckled humorlessly "
Anyway, I can't replace" 56 Defender " We're not looking for a
replacement," she assured him.

"Or answers, really.  Peter needs to learn how to find his own answers."

"What does he want to know?  Who his parents are?"  He peered at her,
his eyes burning with the question.  Abruptly he turned away.

"The answer to that is you and Jared."  "He knows he's adopted."

"He knows you raised him.  That makes you his mother." "He needs to
learn more about his Native heritage, Gideon.  And with Jared gone..."
"Jared didn't know his heritage from" -- Jared had answers, but not
those answers, damn it.  Those were the answers Gideon had.  At least,
he had some. A few. "Look, Raina, the problem is that this whole treaty
fights issue is pretty dicey right now, and people are circling thdr
wagons up here."  He chuckled.

"Some analogy, huh?"

"It's an interesting choice of words." "These are interesting times.  It
can he tricky just figuring out who your friends are.  Tell you
what--we'll take in the powwow tomorrow, give Peter a taste of smoked
fish and fry bread How's that?"

"Will you take us canoeing before we go?"

"I could," he supposed. "With a canoe you can avoid the boat landings.
One of these days I'm liable to blow my cool and bash somebody's face
in.  Then I'd sure as hell make the front page of every newspaper in the
state.  And not the way I'd want to." She touched the back of his hand
with her cool fingertips.  "After what I saw today, I don't know how
you've r~-sis ted this long." "No choice."  Her soft touch had the same
effect on him as her scent had. Old reflex, he told himself.  The
evening shadows covered for him nicely. "Anything I do reflects on
Defender 57 the people.  Gotta mind my manners." He smiled playfully.
"Mostly."

"I won't ask what 'mostly' means."

It meant that as long as he was playing the gentleman escort, he would
behave himself and dress the part.  Gideon's idea of dressing up
coincided in some ways with Raina's.  He broke out a bottle of men's
cologne that reminded him of the north woods on a chilly spring evening.
He thought he could detect a hint of spruce, a touch of balsam and a
splash of fresh water from a swift, icy current.  And he wore his dress
shoes--moccasinS with floral headwork--and his hair-pipe choker with the
abalone shell tickling his Adam's apple. The small leather bag he wore
tucked inside his shirt was generally not for show, but the beaded belt
was.

Damn, he felt good-looking.

It was too hot for the sport jacket he usually wore for official
occasions. And the jeans, well.  short or long, jeans were always
Gideon. The powwow was held in a traditional c'ucular bowery.  The focus
was music and dancing, and the costumes splashed color in every corner
of the fairgrounds.  The prizes for the dance contests drew dancers from
out of state, and even though sty lea had blended in recent years,
Gideon was able to point out the differences between the American
Chip~wa and the Canadian Crce moccasins, both with floral beadwork. He
noted the Ojibwa influence on the local Dakota designs, as opposed to.
those of their Western Lakota cousim.  There were even visitors from the
Southwest, and Raina was impressed with Gideon's knowledge of Zuni, Hopi
and Navaho su'silver work, which was available for sale at some of the
stands. Peter was interested in everything that was going on around
him--the costumes, the dance steps, the people" the  58 Defender
food--but Raina could ~ he was feeling a little awkward.  He was lib a
saddle horse's colt catching a glimpse of a herd of mustangs.  Was this
really who he was?.  If he left his mother's side, would those strangers
let him nm with them, or would they kick up their heels in his face and
leave him standing there looking stupid? "What do you like to eat,
Peter?"  Gideon asked as they approached the chow wagon.

"Corn dogs or Indian ta-cos?"

- Peter checked the list of choices on the s'~n next to the sliding
window.

"What's fry bread

Gideon's glance told Raina that she'd neglected her son's culinary
education. "I don't know how to make it," she explained, "You take a
bunch of bread dough, smash it down, cut a piece off" -- his quick hands
made air fry bread as he explained "--make a slit, drop it in hot lard
.... " He peered through the window. "You got any fresh fry bread in
there," Ron?  I mean fresh.  " Shoving his hand into his pocket for
money, Gideon turned to relay the cook's nod to the out, side world.
Then, in competition with the fan inside, he shouted into the window
again.

"We've got a guy out here who's never had fry bread

A round, sweaty, bespectacled face appeared in the window, followed by a
paper plate with the sought-after sam-pie, Ron adjusted his glasses and
gave Pe~r the once-over.  "Th/s guy's never had fry bread
"Boarding-school kid," Gideon said as he pushed some bills across
counter. With a couspiratorial winks he handed Peter the plate. "Spends
all his summers at Disney World," "Geez, poor little guy.  What did he
cut his teeth on?"

 "Mouse taft."

Peter nearly choke don his first mouthful of fry bread Gideon laughed
and slapped him on the back. "If you like Defender 59 this part, we'll
have the works.  Indian tacos.  How about it?"  Peter nodded, and Gideon
ordered three.

"Two for me," said a voice at Gideon's back.

"Marvin, hey."  Gideon wasn't sure Marvin Strikes Many would accept his
handshake.  But it was powwow time, time to socialize, so Marvin
relented. Gideon breathed a s'w'h of relief.  He wanted everything to go
smoothly today.  No politics, no taking any stands.  He shoved his hands
in his back pockets and grinned.

"Is your oldest boy around?

I've got someone I want him to meet.  My brother Jared's boy, Peter.  "
Peter was a little slow on the uptake with the older man's proffered
handshake, but he had a mouthful of fry bread to contend with.

"And this is Raina, Peter's mother."

Marvin nodded, then gave the universal Indiim lip gesture toward the
bowery, where the afternoon elimination rounds were taking place in the
dance contests. "Tom's over dancing fight now.  Competing in men's
traditional.  It's his first year in twelve-to-eight~n." "Is that Arlen
Skinner judging?"  Gideon frowned slighfiy, craning his neck to get a
look past the lineup of younger boys dressed in colorful double bus ties
waiting outside the circle for their turn to dance.

"Haven't seen him around in a while."

"Some of us parents got together and asked him to come out and judge the
dance contests," Marvin reported with a clear sense of satisfaction.
"Arlen's one of the real tradi-tionals.  He knows how it's supposed to
be done." Gideon watched the old man take one of the boys aside and
demonstrate a dance step, shuffling his moccasins in the grass.  60
Defender "He sure does.  It's good when the old ones do the teaching."
He glanced Peter's way and gave an instructional nod.

"It's good when the young ones pay attention to them."

"Arlen can still bring a buck down with an arrow."   "He uses a compound
bow," Gideon pointed out as he indicated, again with a nod, that Marvin
should help himself to the first two plates of Indian tacos Ron had
served up. "Nothing wrong with taking advantage of an improvement."
Marvin handed his money through the window and claimed the plates. "But
Arlen still knows his culture.  Knows his rights, too."  Hands full, he
nodded his goodbyes and headed for the bowery.

"Good seeing you, Marvin," Gideon said to the man's heels.

"Glad you've got no hard feelings over that deer." Marvin plunked his
plates on a bleacher seat, turned and watched the threesome wander from
the chow wagon to the pop stand before he took exception to Gideon's
assumption under his breath.

"What're you mutterin' about, nephew?  Complainin' about the judging?"

Arlen Skinner gave a ~lry laugh as he hiked his arthritic bones up to
the plank seating and pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket.

"Your boy did real good."

"We've been working on his costume.  Can you use some chow?"

The old man shook his head.

"Could use a match, nini-ninqwanis.  " Marvin fished in his jeans pocket
for a match for the man who called him his nephew.  With his free hand
he waved his son down.

"Got something over here for you to eat."

He offered Afien a light, but his attention strayed back to the motley
trio at the pop stand.  from his perspective, anyway. "What do you think
about the way Defender's trying to trade off our " Defender 61 "I don't
pay much attention to politics."  Arlen blew a stream of smoke and
turned a cursory glance toward the man who held Marvin's interest. He
registered his reaction with a grunt.

"Looks like he's got himself a pretty white girlfriend."

"That's his brother's wife," Marvin informed him.

"His brother Jared.

The one that moved to the city and died of a heart attack.  " "You mean
the lawyer?  That's his wife?"  Arlen pulled the cigarette from his
mouth and took another look.

"She don't look Indian."

"Nope."  Marvin wagged his head,

"The boy sure takes after his dad."

"His dad?"  Arlen Squinted, staring harder now in a manner that would
have been rude, had it not been necessary.  "You're talking about the
lawyer?  The hwyer was that boy's dad?"

"Hardly looks like a half-breed."

"If that's Jared Defender's boy, and if that's his only son, then he's
no haft-breed.  He's my grandson."  Aden took another drag on his
cigarette, squinting through the smoke for a last look before he finally
turned away, muttering, "The one my daughter gave away." Chapter 4
(~ideon had promised to bring his canoe over to the lodge the following
morning, and they planned to launch their outing from there.  Raina had
popped down to the little grocery store early and put together a picnic
lunch, but she was be~i~'nnhlg to think she would have to make a second
trip if Gideon didn't show up soon.  Peter had already eaten half the
fruit she'd bought.  He was working on a banana when Gideon called to
say he would be a few minutes late.  What he'd planned as a quick stop
at his office was turning into a little more than that, he explained.
Raina graciously refrained from mentioning that he'd long since passed a
few minutes. Instead, she told him not to worry about it. "He says he
really wants to go, and we'll be doing him a favor if we hang in and
wait," Raina reported as she hung up the phone. "$eez, Mom, he's like
the president of the tribe.  He's probably got a lot of stuff going on
all the time."  Peter dropped the banana peel into the wastebasket,
propped his Defender 63 feet up on the chair opposite the one he
occupied and checked the grocery bag for another selection. "I wonder
what Mark and Eric would say if I told them my uncle was a tribal
chief." "I'm surprised you haven't told the~'n," she said absenfiy as
she turned for a backward inspection of her outfit in the mirror.  She
wasn't sure she liked the way the blue looked tucked into the white.

"Can you see my shirt through these.  shorts?"

"Kinda."  Peter was more interested in slurping ~ several drops of juice
dripping from the plum he'd just bitten into. "It came up in a class
once."  His mouth was still half-full, so the words sounded juicy.

"Social studies."  He swallowed and licked his lips.

"We were talking about current events.  One of the other guys heard the
name Defender on the news and asked if I was related.  I said I didn't
know."

"Why did you say that?"

"" Cause I don't.  " He shrugged and popped the rest of the plum into
his mouth.  After he spat the pit into the waste-basket, he allowed, "
Not by blood, anyway.  Figured I can say I'm related, or I can say I'm
not.  Depends on how you look at it and who's asking'.  "

"What would you say now?"  she wondered, the shorts forgotten.

He had to think about that one.

"I guess I feel like he's my uncle."

"Good."  She tried to ruffle his hair, but he leaned away.  "Did you
enjoy the powwow?"  sh6 asked. "Sure, it was okay."  He reached for the
TV schedule that was lying on the table next to the grocery bag.

"I think I'd like to try spear fishing

"It's legal during the ice-fishing season," Raina re, called. "Maybe
this winter we can come back and ask your uncle Gideon to"  64 Defender
"Oscar says the best time for spearing is in the spring." After a quick
scrutiny, he tossed the schedule aside and snatched up another banana.
"He says there's supposed to be a big celebration, traditional
ceremonies, stuff like that.  And there will be, once all this argument
about who's got the say over how Indians do their fishing is settled.
Oscar says it's a treaty right, and it's got nothing to do with state
laws." "They're working on some sort of comprorni~ so that the Chippewa
can resume the practice peacefully, without" -- The knock at the door
prompted another mirror check, which confirmed Peter's assessment.  The
blue did show through the white shorts.

"Too late now," Raina muttered on her way to the door.

But the man on the other side was not the one she was expecting.  This
one was wearing a uniform, a sidearm and a badge.

"Mrs.  Defender?"  t "I'm Raina Defender, yes."

"Cletus Sam.  I'm a tribal police officer."  He nodded politely, then
glanced over her head, into the room. "I'm looking for Peter Defender.
I'm carrying a court order for Court order? Raina folded her arms,
squared her shoulders and took a wide stance in the doorway.

"Peter hasn't done anything.  He's been with me ever since we got here."

The officer produced a piece of paper with an official letterhead. "The
judge issued an order for him to be taken into the custody of"
"Custody?"  Raina stepped back into the room, instinctively falling back
to protect her child as she examined the document with Peter's name on
it, signed by Judge Oerald Half.  The names registered clearly enough,
although the judge's was not familiar to her, but the rest made no
sense. Defender 65 She scanned the document again, but her eyes were
working faster than her brain. "What does this mean--'the terms of the
Indian Child Welfare Act," and this part.  about biological family
members?  "

"May I come in, ma'am?"

Ralna gave a tentative nod; "I don't have the papers with me, but I
assure you that I can prove that I am legally Peter's mother." "All I
know is the boy is an enrolled member of the Pine Lake Band of
Chippewa." "Yes, he is.  So was my husband.  We adopted Peter when he
was a baby, and it was all perfectly leg" -- "Are you Peter?" The
policeman turned to the table, where the boy sat with the first bite of
his second banana still in his mouth, looking from one adult to the
other in total confusion.  He nodded hesitantly. "You wanna come with
me?"  Officer Sam asked, as gently as he might have petitioned a much
younger child.

"We're just going' over to see Judge Half, over to the court."

 "I didn't do anything," the boy said quietly. "Nobody says you did,
Peter.  The judge will explain."  Officer Sam nodded to Raina and spoke
just as quietly.  "You can sure come, too, ma'am."

But Raina's voice was on the rise.

"Gideon Defender is Peter's uncle. He'll straighten this whole thing out
as soon as he hears"-- " Maybe he will, Mrs. Defender.  But the court is
separate from the chairman, so I've got to do like the judge told me.  "
He gestured toward the paper, which was still in Raina's hand. "Gideon's
office is right across the street, though, so you can go right on over
there and see what he has to say.  I mean, it's not like anybody wants
to do any"  66 Defender "I'minterested in hearing what this judge has
to say."  She perused the document again, but the words wouldn't stay in
focus, and the paper seemed to burn her fingers. "This is ridiculous.
Peter has nothing to do with welfare, or whatever that act is supposed
to mean." She stared at the man, hoping to convince him, searching for
the magic words that would make such perfect sense that he would take
his paper and go back where he'd come from.

"I'm the one who's raised him.  I'm his mother."

"Yes, ma'am."  The officer turned to Peter again. "Nobody is going to
hurt you, son.  You're not in any trouble.  The judge just wants to see
you in his office.  He'll explain' everything." She was doing all right
until the judge asked her to wait outside his office while he talked
with Peter.

"I have no jurisdiction over you,"

the portly man with bulldog jowls explained.  "Only the boy." Over her
objections, Cletus Sam directed her to a chair, but it was on the other
side of the door to the room she ought to he in.  The room where Peter
was.  This was not defensible.  She definitely had parental rights.
Legal rights. Gideon's blue pickup was parked across the street.  Right
across the street! Surely he could see what was going on here.  Why
wasn't he doing something about this?  Raina fumed to herself.  Getting
herself in a huff expanded her confidence as she marched past the
receptionist and through the door labeled Chairman's Office. Taken off
guard, the receptionist was a little late in sliding her chair back from
her desk. "You can't walk in withOut" -- Standing next to his desk with
a handful of papers, Gideon turned in surprise.  Dressed in a
Timberwolves T-shirt and cutoffs, he clearly hadn't planned to spend the
morn-. Defender 67 ing on official business.  He looked poised, in fact,
to set the rest aside.

"Gideon, thank God," she breathed.

He smiled sheepishly as he selected one paper and put the rest in a desk
tray. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Raima.  I think that phone has
eyes.  I ought to know better than " Gideon, what in heaven's name is
going on?  " She closed the door and approached him tentatively. "Did
you know that your judge sent a policeman over to the lodge to arrest
Peter this morning?"

Gideon's eyes widened incredulously.

"Arrest... Peter?" "Yes," She nodded once, then shook her head in
confusion.  "Well, take him into custody because of some child welfare
law that says he can just take my son into/ds custody.  I don't
understand how" -- "Where is he now?  Where is Peter?"

She gestured with an unsteady hand.

"Right across the street."  In two strides he was at her side, turning
her toward the door while she was still sputtering,

"You have to do something, Gideon."

On his way past the receptionist's desk he tossed a letter under her
nose.

"You know what to do with this, Rosie?"  "Sure.

Slam-dunk it into file thirteen.  " "No, you send out the standard
reply.  The Pine Lake Band has no in~nfion of depleting the lake of all
the fish, which were here before the Chippewa, who were here long before
the North Woods Anglers Club star led its annual fishing derby, which we
wouldn't dream of imerfering with, etcetera, et cetera."  Half of him
was guiding Raina toward the outside door, the other half reaching back,
still pointing to the letter.

"Those guys spend a lot of money at the casino."

 68 Defender "They say they're going to boycott the casino," Rosie
pointed out. "Maybe you ought to call this guy, or else maybe" -- "Tell
them we hope they'll reconsider.  Just say" -- "Excuse me, Gideon."
Raina tugged on his arm. "Peter doesn't understand what's going on any
more than I do, and he's probably scared."

"Thanks, Rosie.  Cotta see what the bell's going' on across the way
here."

Gideon opened the front door and ushered Raina into the late morning
sunlight.

"The Indian Child Welfare Act," he explained as they walked.

"That's the law they're probably talking about.  It's a federal law, and
in' Minnesota there's also a state law.  The idea is to keep the
children from being taken away from the tribe." "What are you talking
about, Gideon?  We adopted Peter when he was a baby. Jared and I" --
"He's Chippewa.  Somebody must have taken a notion to file a complaint
of some kind."

"A complaint?"

They waited at the curb, both of them watching a car cruise by.  The
driver gave a nod, and Gideon returned the greeting.  Then he turned to
Raina. "I'm not sure why anyone would in this case, but you might need
an attorney. We'll have to" -- "There's nothing to complain about.  That
judge has no right to take my son.  Gideon, did you say something, or
did someone approach you about" -- He shook his head. "I didn't know
anything about this.  As long as Jared was alive, there was no problem.
Now, maybe there could be."  He sighed as he stepped off the curb,
thoughtfully eyeing the sign across the street that said LAW AND ORDER:
Pine Lake Band of Chippewa.

"Let's go see what kind of a problem.  And how big."

Defender 69 They found Peter and Arlen Skinner occupying two chairs in
the judge's chambers, exchanging sidelong glances as though neither was
quite sure what to make of the other.  r Ra'ma didn't know what to make
of any of it, but She was relieved to find that Peter hardly looked
scared, although he did still look confused.  At Gideon's request, the
judge admitted her into the office.  He introduced the old man, Ar-len
Skinner, as Peter's grandfather. "Grandfather?"  Raina echoed softly,
trying the word out on her own tongue. She knew she was supposed to
approach an elder with a respectful handshake, but her feet wouldn't
move.  She knew she wasn't supposed to stare, but she couldn't help it.

Peter's biological grandfather?

"Here's the paperwork on this so far."  The judge handed Gideon a file
folder. "Why didn't you talk to me about this before you served any
papers, Judge?" Gideon looked the documents over, but he had a good idea
what they would say.

"This was some pretty fast work."

"Since the boy was in the neighborhood, seemed like the sensible thing
to do was serve the papers first, ask questions later."  The judge
exchanged nods of previously determined agreement with the old man
sitting quietly in the corner chair. "Peter here is a member of the Pine
Lake Chippewa.  He was enrolled by Tomasina Skinner, his birth mother~
She didn't name his father.  She's got him down as half Chippewa, so
apparently his father wasn't a member of the band."

"Is she..."  Raina glanced from the judge's face to Gideon's and back
again.

"Is she trying to take him back now?"

"My daughter was killed in a car wreck," Arlen said evenly.

"Eight, nine years ago now."  70 Defender "Judge, my husband and I
adopted Peter when he was a baby. Jared actually made the initial
arrangements, but I understand that Peter's mother" -- The words, coming
from her own mouth, stunned her.  She was Peter's mother.

She turned slowly, like a player just enlisted for blind-man's buff.

A rising mire of uncertainty threatened to engulf her as she thrust her
pleading gesture first in the judge's direction, then briefly toward the
old man.  But finally, as though she were awakening, recovering a full
awareness of herself, she drew her hand back to her own chest. "I..."
She injected her voice with what starch she could muster and explained
softly, "I was told that Tomasina, whom ~ never actually met, was
allowed to choose the ... to choose adoptive parents for Peter, and she
chose us.  We were looking for a child to adopt~ and because Jared was
Chippewa, we were... we were..." She ha~l her senseless emotionalism
when what she needed was coolness and poise.  She cleared her throat and
forbade her voice to crack.

"We were even... We gave him his name and everything."

She didn't have to do this, she toO herself.  There was no need to plead
her case to these people, especially since the look in Aden's eyes was
decidedly unmoved.  Don't even try, she wanted to say, but she was
afraid. "It was all perfectly legal," she insisted quietly insteadi She
turned to Gideon, whose familiar face did not threaten her composure.
"After all, Jared was an attorney, wasn't he, Gideon?  So ita//has to be
in order, because Jared never left any loose ends." She took the slight
bob of Gideon's chin as an endorsement.  She turned to the judge, and
calmly she concluded, "I know I'm a single paint now, but Peter is
legally my own son."

Defender 7~ Judge Half was unruffled.

"The boy's also Arlen's grandson." Son and grandson were not the same,
Raina told herself, which enabled her to recover her manners and offer
the old man a belated handshake.

Arlen Skinner briefly permitted the courtesy, then withdrew his hand.

"Forgive me.  I'm happy to meet you, Mr. Skinner.  And I'm more than
willing to..."  She smiled at her son and fell back on her mother's
prerogative to speak for him. "I know Peter's very glad to meet his
grandfather, too.  He never knew Jared's father, and mine is..." Peter
lowered his eyes and resfiessly braced his hands on Gideon was watching
Peter.

Judge Half was surveying the order he had issued.

"All right, what's really going on here?"  Raina demanded quiefiy.

"Why did you send a policeman after my son?"

"Arlell asked the court to claim custody of his grandson on his behalf."
The judge's dark.  eyes conceded nothing, deeply imprcgnated as they
were with the power of Solomon.  "Peter is Chippewa."

"So was my husband.  Gideon's brother."  She spun around, seeking his
help.

"Gideon?" But he appeared to be studying the blank side of the document
the judge held in his hand. "I'm guessing the tribal court is exercising
its right to claim custody of a Pine' Lake Chippewa child living in a
non-Indian home."  He looked up.

"Right, Judge?"

"That's right."  Judge Half extended his beefy hand toward Raina.

"I

understand how you feel"-- " Gideon, whose side are you on?  Peter is
your. " Her hands curled into fists as she remembered Peter's claim.  He
 72 Defender could be related or not related--whichever he chose. Maybe
Gideon saw it the same way.

But she did not.  She was Peter's mother.  Peliod.

"We'll call our attorney and get this-whole thing straightened out
today, Peter.  I'm not going to let them do 'this." "I guess the
question of whose side you're on" -- Judge Half glanced sidelong at
Gideon "--might be on a lot of people's minds, Mr. Chairman."

Gideon sighed.

"The boy lost his" -- He swallowed hard and cast a quick look ceiling
ward "He lost his father just two years ago."  He drilled Judge half
with a challenging stare. "We'd be hard-pressed to take him away from
the only living parent he's ever known, wouldn't we, Judge?  Hell, he's
twelve years old.  This is no time to be meddling in his" -- Abruptly he
turned his attention across the room.

"Youready to raise another teenager, Arlen?"

"Marvin Strikes Many pointed him out to me at the celebration."  The old
man shifted in his chair, spreading his hands wide. "I didn't interfere
with my daughter's decision to give her baby up for adoption, even
though I didn't think it was right.  She said the baby would go to a
good Indian home.  Jared Defender, she said, so I thought, okay.  A good
Indian home.  i was sorry when I heard he'd passed away.  I wasn't doin'
too good myself then, so I didn't get to his funeral or not bing I never
knew he was married to a white woman.  Never thought to ask."  He ~pared
Raina a quick glance, then spoke to the judge. "I keep to myself,
mostly.  Never pay much attention to other people's business unless it
crosses over into mine somehow."

Judge Half folded his arms over his chest.

"Did Toma-sina tell you much about the boy's real father?"

Arlen shook his head.

"She wouldn't say who it was.  All she ever said was, "This is what he
wants, too.  Give the kid Defender J 73 half a chance," she said.  I
thought maybe she got some money out of it or something, because she
always wanted to move to the big city, and that's what she up and did.
" He grunted with disgust and shook his head again. "But now, I don't
think it's right, my grandson being raised by a white woman." "What's
wrong with a white woman?"  Raina demanded, the trepidation gone from
her voice. "I'm a good mother, and Peter is my son.  You can't take my
son.  I don't care what this crazy law,"

"Raina."  Gideon' touched her arm.

"Believe me, the judge has the authority to take this matter" -- She
shook him off.

"I won't give up my son!"

"I know."  His hand dropped to his side. "Under the circumstances, I'm
sure some kind of compromise" "Compromise.l" Raina clipped, as sharply
indignant as any mother cat surrounded by males threatening to devour
her young. "Sounds a lot like the word settlement," Arlen muttered.
"Which is a word some of us are getting pretty tired of hearing.,"
"Let's not confuse that issue with this one," Gideon said.  He rested
one hand low on his hip and nodded toward the court order still held
menacingiy in the judge's hand.

"What are we lookin' at here, Judge?

Temporary custody while the lawyers cinch up their briefs, right?  I'm
the boy's uncle, and I'm also a resident of Pine Lake and an enrolled
member of the band.  I'd say I'm a good prospect, wouldn't you?  " " You
want me to appoint you his guardian?  " Raina stepped forward. "Peter
doesn't need" -- As a subtle warning, Gideon laid his hand on Raina's
shoulder.

"Temporarily."

"Hey, I gotta get hack to school by September eighth," Peter put in. It
was his first real comment, and it surprised  74 Defender Raina that
getting back to school was his first concern.  But she was relieved to
hear him speak up so sensibly for going home. "We'll have time to get in
some fishing, maybe a little camping, before school starts," Gideon
said.  He slid Raina a glance that said trust me, while he turned his
negotiations from the judge to Peter, skillfully including Arlen in the
verbal circle he was drawing. "Your grandfather can teach you to dance
Indian.  That's what you came up here for, right?  To learn about your
culture?" All the while he kept his hand on Raina's shoulder.  She'd
never known Gideon to be such a smooth talker.  For the first time she
could see a eommonality between brothers.  She noted that Afien hadn't
refused the suggestion yet. Gideon sidled quickly over to Peter, tapped
him on the arm with the back of his hand and invcigled some more.  "So
here you've got yourself a grandfather into the bargain.  Pretty cool,
huh?" "Pretty damn confusing," Peter grumbled as he stood slowly.  He
looked up at Gideon, implicitly accepting him as an ally. "Can these
guys really... uh... take me away from Mom?"  ' Raina closed her eyes
briefly, clamping down on the terrible burning in her throat.  She would
not lose it now.  She would not.  ~ "Judge Half is a fair man, Peter.
He's got to sort though all the claims and the circumstances."  He laid
his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're right, it's confusing, but we'll
get it straightened out.  It'll just take a little time."  Gideon mined
to the man who had the final say.

"What about it, Judge?"

"You're her brother-in-law," Arlen injected.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea."

Defender 75 "I'm the tribal chairman, Arlen.  It's not like I'm gonna
skip town."

Arlen looked at Raina, then turned to the judge.

"Maybe she might try to take off with him or something."

"Take off" Raina ignored the look of warning in Gideon's eyes.

"If we leave, we won't be taking off.  We have every right to leave here
whenever" -- "Nobody's gonna take off," Gideon, the self-appointed voice
of reason, insisted. "You don't mind staying with me for a while, do
you, Peter?  Your morn will be staying at the lodge." Peter looked at
each face in the room, one at a time.  Finally he shrugged, then gave
his head a quick shake.  Unsure, uncomfortable, even a little unsteady,
he was willing to defer to the man with the plan.  At least Uncle
Gideon-- Uncle sounded better all the time--was not a stranger. Gideon
kept a judicious distance from Raina, but his eyes sought hers, and he
offered quiet reassurance.

"It'll work out."

She glared at him.

He glanced away.

"You got something you want me to sign, Judge?"

The judge produced another document, which he filled out and finally.

slid across the desk for Gideon's signature. "I wish my dad was here,"
Peter said as he assumed a detached stance from which to observe the
proceedings.  "He knew everything there was to know about the law. You'd
hand him a court order, he'd hand you an injunction-" he snapped his
fingers" like that" Gideon looked up, a trace of regret in his eyes, and
he smiled. "Guess you'll have to settle for me.  I'm no lawyer, but I
know a little bit about a lot of things."  He nodded toward Arlen, who
hadn't moved from his chair.

"Kinda like your grandfather."

 76 Defender "I know it's not right for her to take him away," Arlen
said stubbornly.  He folded his arms and shifted in his chair.  The look
in his eyes said this was only round one.

"You'll need your Indian ways," he told Peter.

"You'll be a man ~oon ."  ' "But I don't know if I want to live up here.
Summer might be okay, but" -- Peter looked at the judge.

"Don't I have something to say about all this?"

"Sure you do."  Judge Half slipped the paper with Gid-~n's signature on
it into his file.

"Everybody gets a say in my court."  He nodded in Arlen's direction.

"I want you to spend some time with your grandfather, too, now that you
two have finally met.  You'll see to that, Gideon?  And meanwhile, I've
got to study up on your background a lit-fie bit.  I'm just a judge. I'm
not a lawyer, either.  Like the chairman, !  don't know everything there
is to know about anything."

He brandished the file.

"Got some studyin' up to do." Raina's brain was as wobbly as the
hindquarters of a rhino shot with a tranq 'ufiizer gun.  She hadn't seen
the blow coming, and she was still reeling from it.  Gideon kept telling
her to stay cool, but his voice seemed distant. Peter had little to say,
except that he didn't mind riding in Gideon's pickup "to keep up
appearances," while his mother followed them back to the lodge in her
ear.

There they set about packing up Peter's clothes.

"You got an extra TV that I can hook this up to?"  Peter showed Gideon
the controls to his video game. Gideon shoved his hands into his pockets
as he scanned the cords and buttons on the control box.

"I only have one TV.  Does it have to be some special kind?"

"I have a converter."  Peter glanced at Raina. Defender 77 Without even
seeing it, she could feel that visual cheek-in from child to mother,
that Don't-I-Morn?  look.  Sitting on the bed, carefully folding each
shirt, she looked up.  There was an unspoken concern in her son's eyes,
as though he were seeing her differently as he prepared to take his
first siguifieant leave of her, and it seared her.

But he smiled at her as he reported,

"At home I have my " I don't watch TV much," Gideon said.

"It's yours for the duration."

ged his equipment.

"Whatever that means."

"It means until this custody thing gets straightened out," Gideon said.

"It gets complicated, doesn't it, being an Indian?"

"Hey, I'm just minding my own business, catin' a banana, and in comes
this cop."  Twirling the con vertex cord like a lasso, Peter nodded
toward the door. "Pretty soon I've got a grandfather named Aden Skinner,
who tells me his daughter was my mother, and her name was Tomasina, and
she's dead, and then my uncle gets to be my guardian, just temporarily "
He turned to Raina, giving her a puzzled look.

"And I'm wondering, how come I never knew any of this stuff?"

"I didn't know about your grandfather," Raina said.  She laid her hand
atop the p'de of folded shirts, splaying her fingers over the soft
cotton. "The adoption--your adoption-was a private arrangement, which is
perfectly legal in this state.  Your dad handled the technical end of
it, and when the time came, we both went to the hospital to get you." A
warm surge of nostalgia flooded her as she re- called cradling her baby
in her arms for the first time.  So much beautiful black hair, she'd
said.  Such tiny, delicate fingernails.  78 Defender "I member the
caseworker's name was Susan something, but I was never told your birth
mother's name.  I've often thought about her and wondered" -- She shook
the speculations away.  She now knew the answer to the final question.
Wondered what ever happened to her. "We were given some medical
information, but-that's about all.  I was just so glad to..."  Raina
looked at her son and smiled. "I was just so glad you were ours, Peter.
Maybe I was afraid to rock the boat, I don't know.  But I've never'
deliberately kept anything from you. I've answered all your questions as
best I could." She picked up the shirts and rose from the bed.  Gideon
and Peter both watched her every move, as though they were suddenly
fascinated by her ability to pack a bag.  As though they'd forgotten
that mothers did such things.

"That's why we came, remember?"  she continued.

"To answer some of your questions.  If I'd known about your grandfather,
I would have told you.  And I have no idea whether your dad knew about
him." With a glance she invited Gideon to answer for his brother.

But he skirted the invitation with a shrug.

"Arlen's never been what you'd call a sociable fellow."

"Is he as mean as he looks?"  Peter wondered.

"He just looks old," Gideon said. "And he/ sold was about all he could
say for sure about the man, besides the fact that he was a "
traditional," and he was reclusive, even among his own people.  What
little contact he'd ever had with Arlen Skinner had been accidental and
had ways made Gideon feel a bit uneasy. "No, I don't think he's mean."
Even now he had to a concerted effort to shake off the uneasy feeling.
since learned to arrest such feelings by distancing from personal ties.
He could put Arlen into thinking of him as one of the elders.  One whose
Defender 79 dwelled, for the most part, in the past.  One who remained
behind as a reminder.  One who deserved respect.

"Arlen's lost a lot over the years," Gideon said.

"The older people remember how the land was appropriated by waves of
newcomers.  Around here, it wasn't so much the land but the timber they
wanted first. lfglages were a nuisance to the loggers, and logging drove
the game away, anyway, so some of the bands agreed to move farther
north.  Our little band ream ted "This is prime real estate."  Gideon
glanced out the window at the lakeshore below. "But we didn't know
anything about real estate.  We just knew we belonged here.  We couldn't
keep the miners out next, or the farmers, but in those days the United
States didn't care that much about the hunting and fishing, so they
said, "We'll pay you for the land, but you.  can keep on hunting and
gathering on it."

 " He shook his head and chuckled at the irony of it all.

"None of our people ever saw much of the money.  Coincidentally, the
Chippewa owed the white traders almost exactly the amount the government
was paying for the land.  So why not cut the red tape and send the money
directly to the creditors?  Makes sense."  His full mouth turned down at
the corners, and he nodded in a parody of understanding.  "l~llmlnated a
whole step.  Went down in history as an early attempt to make government
carry out its duties efficiently.  But the Chippewa didn't much care for
the way it worked out, so we've seen more than our share of red tape
ever since. "Anyway, with all the logging and the farming, the game
kinda disappeared, so the Chippewa had some pretty hungry times.  Most
of the bands were relocated, but some faro real well that after the
loggers and the traders and the farmers, along came the weekend
sportsmen, then the lake cabins.  We didn't have much land left by then,
but we still had  80 Defender our hunting and fishing rights.  People
like Arlen, the older ones, they just kept to themselves and watched
over what was left." As Gideon watched now.  Long, silent moments passed
as he watched a fishing boat head out from the lodge.  In the Land of
10,000 Lakes, evidently Pine Lake had become everybody's current ideal
recreation spot.

"What do you think he wants, Gideon?"

"Arlen?"  Gideon turned from the window to find both Raina and Peter
looking to him anxiously for the answer.  He felt a little foolish.
Maybe they didn't see any connection between his story and Arlen's
demands. Maybe for them there wasn't any.

"Guess he wants a grandson.

HIS grandson.  " "Which means" -- Raina gestured, hopeful of something
simple and straightforward "--visits, right?  He wants to be able to see
Peter periodically, the way... the way grandparents do.  The way they
should.  I have no problem with that, and I'm sure Peter" -- "I'd like
to get to know him," Peter chimed in.  "As long as he's not as mean as
he looks.  I-leek, I guess that's how I'm gonna look when I get to be
old, you know?  I'm gonna look a lot ~ him.  I'm related to him by
blood."  A first for Peter, that much clearly imp~ him. "Maybe he could
come and watch some of my swim meets this year.  Somo of the guys'
grandparents come all the tun. "You're a swimmer?"  Gideon smiled.  It
was the phrase related to him by blood that got to him.  And pride, and
a strong sense of the circle.  Maybe his sad historical tale had played
a part in prompting this show of optimism.

"Yeah.  Swimming and soccer."  Peter turned to his mother.

"I gotta be back by the time soccer practice starts.  You remember the
date?" Defender 81 "I have it written on the calendar."  She shot Gideon
a look that pleaded for reassurance.  He'll be back in time, won't he?
Tell him he will, and tell me this will all be settled and we'll be on
our way home soon.

Home, Gideon reflected.  HIS idea of home was a far cry from Raina's.

Not better.  Not worse.  Just different, and the difference would take
some serious getting used to for Peter, if it came to that.

"How about taking Oscar out in my canoe?"  Gideon suggested.

"He's been bugging me again this morning." "All four of us? " Four would
be crowded," Gideon acknowledged as he crossed the room to lay claim to
the large duffel bag Raina was zipping shut.

"You're a swimmer.  Oscar's a paddler.

Between the two of you, the important bases are covered.  " Raina
glanced up.

"You've got something else to do?"  "Some calls to make."

"Yes," she said, as if she'd just remembered. "I guess I do, too:' "
Hey, you're cornin' 'over to my place with us.  I'm responsible for him
for"-- Gideon shrugged apologetically " --probably for just a few days.
Nobody said you can't he with us while I have, uh.  "

"Custody of my son," she said bluntly.

"I'm his uncle," he reminded her, feeling the pressure of stitching his
light tone beyond anything he felt.

"Could be worse."

"You're also the tribal chairman.  You ought to have some.  " "Pull?"
The notion made him chuckle. "Tell you what, we're gonna take Peter's
stuff over to my place and pick Oscar up on the way."  He laid his hand
on Peter's shoulder, carefully, as though he were testing the boy's
forbearance.  Peter lifted his eyes to meet Gideon's, offering  82
Defender tentative trust.  The big hand tightened in a gesture of
reassurance. "Then we'll see how much pull this guy can manage on a
canoe paddle.  What's your event?"

"Event?"

"Isn't that what you call it in swimming?"

"Butterfly and breaststroke."

"Hey, I'll bet you can paddle that thing all the way to Canada." They
had shared Raina's picnic lunch on Gideon's porch.  Afterward, the boys
had gone out in the canoe, and the phone calls to the attorneys had been
made.  Indepen-den fly the counsel for the Pine Lake Band and Raina's
lawyer came up with similar pronouncements.  It sounded like a "sticky"
situation, "Sticky just means they're gonna charge more."  Gideon opened
the refrigerator door and gestured for Ralna to stash the remaining
lunch meat inside. "Easy for you to say.  Yours is on retainer."  She
offered him the last of the plums.

"When he shook his head, she tucked the fruit into the crisper.

"Did he sound as eonfi, dent as mine sounded doubtful?" "Our attorney
has dealt with the issue before, Yours probably hasn't."  ~ "I've heard
about it, of course, but I'm not sure I understand ... completely," She
closed the refrigerator door, leaned back against it and stared him down
across the narrow width of his kitchen.

"You explain it, Gideon.  what is it we're dealing with?"

He braced the heels of his hands on the edge of the sink behind him and
took a deep breath, as though he'd been backed into a corner and now had
to make an official statement "The Indian Child Welfare Act was passed
in and basically what it says is that the tribal court has the Defender
83 to" -- he lifted one shoulder, as though the right were self-evident
"--become involved the way it just has. Used to be that Indian kids were
being siphoned away from their people, first into boarding schools, then
non-Indian foster homes and adoptions.

"Finally, the people said, 'no more."

" He tilted his head slightly, his eyes looking for the kind of
understanding that ordinarily would have come naturally to her.
Quietly, he told her,

"They said,

"You take our kids away, we've got nothing left."  So recently they got
this law passed to protect Indian families and to preserve' the
integrity of Indian nations.  " "This all sounds very" -- she sighed,
gesturing impatiently "--philosophical and political and... and it
sounds like an interesting topic for discussion, but this is my child
we're talking about." "I know."  He laid his hand on her shoulder in a
gesture that was pure brotherly love. "I can't see the judge taking him
out of a good home after almost thirteen years."

 "He could do that?"

"I don't know," Technically, the answer was yes, but the judge's will to
do it was another question, and of that possibility, Gideon could
honestly say,

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?  You're a tribal leader now, for
God's sake.  If you don't know, who does?  If you can't do anything
about this, who" -- "Raina."  Gently he squeezed her shoulder, then let
his hand fall to his side. "This is a complicated issue.  We're going to
take it one step at a time, and--for Peter's sake--you're going to stay
calm." But he took haft a step back, because her defensive stare accused
him of taking something from her. "I think the judge is going to want
Peter to have a chance to get to know his grandfather, but I don't think
he'll decide to turn the  84 Defender boy's whole world upside down,
take him out of school, take him away from" -- he glanced at the.  top
of the refrigerator and the cabinet above it, searching the high places
in his kitchen for some assurance to offer "--his mother.  I just can't
see him doing that now." "Excuse me, but I'd like to hear something a
little more decisive, a little more positive, than what sounds like a
cloudy forecast from your crystal ball."

Stung by her sarcasm, he shrugged.

"Call your lawyer back, then." "Ididn'tlike... what Iheardinhisvoiee "
Term-s welled in her eyes, and her voice came dangerously near cracking.
Her lips trembled as she drew a deep breath, searching for something
that would steady her.  "... any better." What he saw in her eyes
embarrassed him, and he glanced away.  It wasn't easy for her to admit
to a fear that might bleed her of her strength.  He was afraid to much
her.  He was afraid that if she fell apart and the pieces of her
scattered across the floor, he wouldn't be able to put them together.
He wan!  ~xl to fix things for her, but he didn't know how.  Aden
Skinner saw her as an outsider, and she sure as hell looked like one.
But this was Raina--Peter's mother, Jared's widow and Gideon's.
Cddeon's what?

Sister-in-law.

That was enough.  She was family.  The Indian way, he needed no more
explanation, no other excuse.  It didn't matter who he was or what
office he held, she was family, just like Peter, and she deserved his
protection, shoulders in his hands, effectively planning her to the
refrigeraton Ask me, he willed.  Care, comfort, the strength in my
body--they 're yours for the asking. Defender 85 But that was not what
she asked.  She lifted her chin, her eyes pleading with him to use his
power on her behalf, whatever power he had to steer the course of
events. Her s'dent, desperate plea clawed at his heart.  The power she
wanted didn't extend to her.  It was for Peter and Oscar, even Afien.
But it was not for Raina.  He was the chairman of the Pine Lake Band of
Chippewa.  And there was nothing he could honestly say to allay a white
woman's fear.  There was no promi~ he could make--h0nesfiy--and there
was precious little he could give her in exchange for her He pulled her
away from the refrigerator, drew her close until her shirtfront touched
his, until he could feel the small, delicate impressions of her breasts
through the layers of cloth.  He slid his hands over her shoulders
slowly, maintaining the lock his eyes had on hers, giving her fair
notice, ample warning.  Her eyes slid closed, and a tear escaped.  One
sparkling tear slipped down her cheek.  He caught it on' his tongue,
tasted its wonderful saltiness, murmured something about her liking this
better, this would~ be better, this would be.  A kiss.  That was all.
There was power in it for him, but little power for her.  Maybe she knew
that.  Maybe she didn't.  When he felt her arms encircl~ him, he didn't
care either way.  All he wanted was the taste of her sweet mouth deep
inside his, the feel of her tongue against his, and the dampness--the
dampness of tears and kisses and opportunities long ago denied him.  But
the nced for more than that swelled low in him, slow in him, gathering
strength from the response her lips made, moving with his.  HIS soft,
involuntary groan expressed the depth of his need.  He held her tight
and pressed himself against her, letting her feel what he had to give.
This and more, his hungry mouth promised.  Don't be afraid.  Don't.  
86 Defender Raina tore her mouth away on a desperate gasp.

"Oh, no, not this."

Her quick, frantic breaths fluttered against the base of his throat.

She clung to him even as she denied him.  "Gideon, we can't let this
happen."

He drew back slowly, thinking--hoping--he hadn't heard her right. They'd
put their arms around each other and shared a kiss, for God's sake. It
tasted good.  It felt good.  It was what they both needed.

What could he wrong with something that felt this fight?

"Peter," she began as she sidled away, still gripping him at the waist
for support.

"Peter might..."

A thousand retorts raced through his mind, but he allowed none to pass
his tongue.  He couldn't afford to.  The .  state his head was in right
now, he couldn't be sure which one would cut itself loose first.
Something about her or himself or the two of them together.  Or
something about Peter.  Or Jared. C.  ~od help them all, he thought as
he finally stepped back.  With everything that had happened already,
this was a tall fled mess. But the kiss was right.  That was all he
knew.  No matter what the source of confusion in her eyes, no matter how
much fear and hurt glittered in them like glass splinters, there was a
glimmer of something within her tears that told him the kiss was right.

We can't let this happen?

Didn't she realize it was more than fifteen years too late for that?

Chapter 5.

Raina returned to Pine Lake after spending two days tying up loose ends
at home.  Her neighbor couldn't be expected to take care of the place.
indefinitely, which was exactly the kind of time frame Raina was looking
at now.  Indian time, It was the lemurely pace Jared had been determined
to put behind him when he'd left the reservation. He'd often complained
that the stereotypes hounded him--the notion that Indians never got
anything done on time.  That if they showed up at all they were always
late.  Good workers once they got started, but undependable.
Unpredictable.  Inconsistent. She'd heard all the modifiers and qua
lifters too, and she'd watched her husband try to ignore them whenever
speaking up might cause a rift with someone with whom he did business.
She'd watched him try to change minds that didn't want to be changed, to
try--without offend' rag any-body--to kick holes in cherished images and
long-held as-sumptious.  All he'd gotten in return for his efforts,
besides  88 Defender a lot of stress, was the occasional; presumably
complimentary observation, that he certainly had come a long way from
those roots of his. Roots like Indian time.  There had been many times
when she'd wished Jared could slow down and smell the roses, maybe
rediscover the meaning of Indian time.  But he'd set his course for
changing times, and he'd followed it religiously to the end.

He'd left her with more house than she and Peter could manage easily.

She'd been inclined to sell it, but friends had advised her not to make
any major changes immediately after her husband's death.  Now she hired
a lawn-care service and a home-security agency to tend it while she was
gone. She couldn't say how long it would be.  All she knew was that she
had to stay close to her son.  She had to accede to someone else's
terms, to someone else's schedule--or lack of one.  All things in good
time.  In Indian country, good time meant Indian time. And the reality
was that, no matter what her husband had endeavored to be, her son was
physically, legally, undeniably, Chippewa. But he was also a
twelve-year-old boy, and he was hell-bent on acting like one.  When
Raina returned to Pine Lake, she learned that Peter was "on restriction"
for the weekend. And, for the first time in over two years, she hadn't
been the one to make the decree.

"Whose restriction?"  she demanded.

"The court's?" "Mine," Gideon said sun ply as he passed Peter the
potatoes he'd helped prepare for supper. "Since my experience with kids
is pretty limited, I'm not used to sleeping with one eye open."  He
arched an eyebrow over that one eye, and Peter quickly lowered his.

"But I'm learning fast."

Raina sighed.  She'd thought her son had learned his lesson the last
time he'd tried using the basement window in Defender 89 stead of the
door for an exit.

"Did you sneak out again, Peter?"

"Me and Oscar did."  He served himself a generous helping of potatoes.
"We went to check out the casino, but they carded us, so we just hung
out. This place is really quiet at three in the morning."

She gave Gideon a look of apology.

"I forgot to warn you that Peter is a night owl." "I've been known to do
some hootin' with the owls myself."  Gideon sawed on his well-done beef
with a table knife.  "I know all the haunts around here and probably a
few tricks you haven't thought of yet, Peter.  So I'm way ahead of you."

"Did you get grounded, too?"  Peter asked.

"Didn't get caught too often."  Gideon glanced at Raina.  "Didn't have
anyone out looking for me.  My dad wasn't around, and my room wasn't up
to it."  He turned a hard look Peter's way, tapping a forefinger on the
table to make what he hoped would be a memorable point.

"So when I d/d get caught, I got searched, handcuffed and hauled off to
jail."

"For what?" "Petty stuff.  Kid.mischief."  He nodded confidently.
"Mistakes you're too smart to make, Peter.  Myself, I was a slow
learner."

"Seems like you turned out okay."

Gideon leaned back in his chair and put his hand to his mouth.  His eyes
shifted from Peter's face to Raina's and back again as he wiggled his
front tooth until it came loose with a click.  He withdrew it and showed
them the empty space. Raina's eyes widened.  Peter laughed, as
thoroughly delighted as he had been when he was six years old and Gideon
had magically produced a quarter from his ear.

 90 Defender "My goodness, Gideon, I'd never have known," Raina
marveled.

"You would have if you'd seen me about ten years back, when I couldn't
afford a false one."  He popped the tooth back in place and smiled, as
splendidly as ever.

"Indian Health doesn't cover the cosmetic stuff."

"How'd it happen?"  Peter wanted to know. "Lost it in a fight.  It could
have been worse.  It could have been an ear or an eye."  Gideon pointed
the blunt-tipped knife Peter'swaying passing, then set it back to work
on his meat.

"There's a lot of bad stuff going on after dark.  A lot of ways to get
hurt."

"Around here?"  the twelve-year-old voice of experience scoffed.

"This place is like the outback at night.  You oughta try the Cities."

"I have."  Gideon noticed the question in Raina's eyes.  He shrugged.
"If a guy's looking for trouble, he'll find it wherever he goes," he
said before he took a bite of meat.  But ~e question hung in the air
until he dismissed it without looking up from his plate.  "!  lived in
St.  Paul for a while.  Didn't like it much."

"We didn't know you were living so close by."

An old wound melted away when he looked into Raina's' eyes and saw
honest bewilderment.  He smiled wistfully.  The we part wasn't exactly
true, but it was good to know that she didn't res liTe- that.  And that
she hadn't known. He'd said he didn't want her to know, but he'd
wondered whether Jared had mentioned it to her after all.  Gideon had
needed his brother then, but he'd never been able to say it in so many
words.  He'd also thought a lot about his brother's wife.  Held thought
about the baby they'd adopted, the home they'd made for themselves, the
family he wanted to be part of in some small way.  Staying away had
never been harder than it was then.

Defender 91 She read it in his eyes--at least, some of it.

"Jared didn't tell me.

Were you there for.  ?  "

"I was only there for a short time.  It didn't work out."  Nothing had
been working for him then.  With an abrupt gesture he dismissed the
recollection and turned to Peter.  "So you see, big city or backwoods,
you're probably not gonna come up with too many tricks I haven't tried.
You might as well save yourself the trouble." "Like you're just about to
tell me you wish you had," Peter supposed, challenging Gideon to a
stare-down. "You did your own growing up, and you did it your way.  Why
don't you leave me alone and let me do mine?" "Why don't I?"  Out of a
hundred reasons, he was supposed to pick the best one right there on the
spot. "Because your dad was my brother and your room..."  He'd taken the
first easy choice, then skidded when he hit the hard part. With a wave
of his fork he back pedaled settling on what was indisputable, figuring
he was enfified to all the prerogatives of the man in charge. "Bemuse I
signed some papers saying I wouldn't.  At least, not for the time
being." "Yeah, well, I don't see why they let you just" -- Peter slid
his mother a help-me-out-here glance "--take over on me all of a
sudden." "I should've seen this coming, I guess."  Gideon pushed peas
and ear rots across his plate with an ineffectual fork.  "This legal
hassle.  I Should have realized that, with Jared gone, something like
this might come up." "Yeah, well..."  With perceptiveness honed by years
of parent-handling, Peter recognized Gideon's self-doubt as the chink in
the fortress. "This is supposed to he temporary, and you act like you
think you can be my dad.  Like you can just tell me what to do."

Seizing the moment, he fired his zingcr.

"But you can't.  My dad would've seen this coming, and he wouldn't be
letting any of it happen."

 92 Defender Gideon took the blow with a level stare.

"What would he have done if he'd caught you sneaking out at night?
Anything different from what I'm doing?"

"That's not exactly the point."

"It's exactly the point."  It really wasn't, but Gideon decided to make
it the point by virtue of the authority Judge Half had unwittingly
vested in him.

"I'll stand in for him the beat I can as long as..."

Raina and Peter were both staring at him now, wondering if he knew
something they didn't.  ~is long as what?

He went for the open-ended option, hoping it covered the bases
innocuously.

"AS long as need he." Now drop it, he warned Peter with a paternal look
that seemed to come naturally, without a lick of practice. "We talked
about paying your grandfather a visit," Gideon said, easing smoothly
into a different subject.  No less sticky, just different.

"You still wanna do that, Peter?"  "I guess so."

Gideon turned the offer over to Raina. "We were just waiting for you to
get back so you could go along if you'd like to."

The suggestion clearly surprised her.

"Do you think I'd be welcome?" "I think we need to try to get along."
Gideon spared Peter a patently inclusive glance, "With each other and
with the old man.  I'm betting that a genuine, friendly overture will
earn you some points with the judge." "Earn me some po'mts?"  Raina's
look challenged him, and her follow-up smacked him hard. "You're
maneuvering on my behalf, Gideon?  When I'm not even part of your
constituency?"

Surprised less by the remark itself than by the way it stung, he sighed.

"Just trying to pour a little oil on the water, that's all." Defender 93
Arlen Skinner lived in a thrce-room house tucked deep in the woods at
the end of a gravel road that turned into a dirt track about
three-quarters of a mile before it became part of his side yard.
Visitors couldn't call ahead, since Arlen had no phone, but Gideon
assured Peter that his grandfather was usually home.  And that there
were people checking on him regularly. One of the programs Gideon had
started since he'd taken office involved adding a home-visiting
assignment, not only to the duties of the tribal health workers, but
also for the tribal employees whose jobs had them traveling the
reservation byways.  People like game warden Carl Earlie paid routine
visits to the tribal elders. At a time when increasing numbers of the
younger generation of Chippewa were looking for off-reservation
opportunities, elders like Arisen Skinner were not to be ignored by
Gideon's administration. Even though profits from the casino had made it
possible to provide housing for many of the elderly within the small
town of Pine.  Lake itself, Arlen preferred to stay in his own house,
isolated as it was. Gideon was a strong advocate for respecting the
elders' reluctance to change the way they'd always lived.  He paid as
many personal calls as he could, mostly for his own benefit, he was
quick to say, for there was much to he learned. But he had always seen
that Arlen was on someone else's route rather than his own. The old man
was sitting on his porch, his cl~air tipped back against the weathered
siding on the front of the house.  He was surrounded by wood shavings,
plastic pails and bundles of willow and birch, and he was working with
strips of birch bark.  He looked up as the three expectant visitors
approached.  Lowering the front legs of his folding chair to  94
Defender the plank porch, he nodded a solemn acknowledgment of their
presence. Clearly neither side knew what to expect of this meeting.
Gideon reached past the steps and wordlessly offered a handshake.  Raina
knew well enough to follow suit, but Peter, suddenly reluctant to take
center stage, hung back.

"Shake hands with your grandfather, Peter," Gideon instructed.

Peter promptly complied, stubbing the rubber toe of his high-top tennis
shoe on his way up the wooden steps.  "Do you speak Ojibwa?" "No" --
Awkwardly stuck for a way to address this newfound relative, Peter
tried,

"Sir."

"Call.me nimishoomis," the old man said, then trans-fated,
'"Grandfather." I'm not a 'sir.  "" "Nimishoorrds," Peter repeated
carefully.

"Can you make coffee, ninaoshishan?"

Peter didn't need a translation.  He knew that he was being addressed
grandfather to grandson.

"You mean like in a coffeemaker?"

"I mean like on a stove.  Show him," the old man ordered Gideon. "You
won't have any trouble finding the kite hen Everything you need is
there.  When you come out, bring yourselves some chairs."  He waved a
strip of bark toward a folded chair leaning again.  ~t the house and
offered Raina an invitation by way of a nod.

"I have one here for Mrs. Defender."

She ope~e~.  the paint.  -splaRered chair and set it next to the small,
green Formica-topped kitchen table that was spread with Arlen's
work-in-progress. Gideon ushered Peter into the house.  The door closed
softly behind them as Raina took her seat across from their host.
"Raina," she said quietly, perching like a shy forest creature on the
edge of the folding chair.

Defender 95 Arlen spared her a questioning look.

"My name..."  She cleared her throat nervously as she folded her hands
in her lap, feeling a bit like the girl with the impeccable school
~ecord who'd been called to the principal's office.  She took a deep
breath and offered a tentative smile.  There was no call, she told
herself, to feel nervous. "Please call me Raina." "Raina," Arlen said,
testing the name out much the way Peter had done with the Ojibwa word
he'd been given.  "Rain, with an a on the end." "That could almost be an
Indian name."  It might have been a compliment, but ~ was no smile on
his slash of a mouth.  Only a hint of one, maybe, in the dark depths of
his eyes.

"Rain, with an a on the end," he echoed.

"I know some people by the name of Reyna, but they're not 'rain with an
a on the end."  They're Indian, though.  Part Indian, anyway.  "

He eyed her curiously.

She fidgeted, the backs of her thighs sticking uncomfortably to the
metal chair.  She smacked her knee, flattening a mosquito, and regretted
her choice of madras plaid walking shorts for this outing. "Do you have
a great-great-grandmother way back who was part Indian or something?
Maybe your grandmother named you after her."  One corner of his mouth
turned up just slighfiy.

"Raina."

"None that I know of," she said airily, offering him her own smi~e and
hoping to set an example. "I used to teach at the Pine Lake School,
though.  Back when I first met my husband.  Does that... help?" He slid
a strip of bark between his fingers, considered her face and finally
nodded once.

"Jared," she supplied obligingly.

"My husband.  Did you know him?"  96 Defender "Not really.  I knew his
dad, long time ago.  I used to stay with my wife's people."  He tipped
his chin in a vaguely westerly direction, puts' rag his lips as though
his idle hands were too busy to make the gesture. "Over by where they
got that new school now.  She was from the Strikes Many clan.  After she
died, I came back here.  But I lost track of those Defender kids.  This
one moved to the Cities.

That one got to he chairman somehow.  " He shrugged.

"I lost track." "Do you have other children besides" -- unsure of the
reference, she gentled her voice to the point of near downi-ncas
"--besides Tomasina?"

"Two sons," he reported.

"Both went away, looking for jobs.  One other daughter, married one of
them Oglalas, moved to South Dakota.  Peter's mother was the youngest."
She could tell he was testing her.  When she didn't take exception to
his choice of the word mother, he confided, "The wildest, looks like."

"Do you have other grandchildren?"

"Five.  Don't see any of them that much."  He couldn't quite hide the
fact that he felt slighted He Shifted in his chair.

"So you used to be a schoolteacher.  And your husband was a big-shot
lawyer?"

"I wouldn't say he was abig shot.  He worked very hard."  Gently, as was
her Way, she added,

"And he died very young."

"A lot of Indians die too young."  His dry chuckle might have seemed
inappropriate had Raina not exper/enced the cruel irony firsthand. "They
don't want to listen tons old Indians.  They don't ask us how we keep
livin' so long, 'cause they got their own ideas.  They want to go live
like white men.  They say it's more fun for them."

Raina nodded.

"Jared just worked too hard.  Twelve, fifteen-hour days sometimes... His
heart..."

"Was he too busy to make babies?"

Defender 97 "NoY Curiously, she did not find his question intrusive, nor
did she mind answering it. "We did try.  It just didn't work out for us
until... until Jared found oft about Peter."  ' The old man grunted. "I
told my girl it wasn't right, giving her baby away.  She told me he was
going to an Indian home, so I just let it go.  She always had to do
things her own way.  Then she told me the name--that Defender that got
to be a big-time lawyer down in Minneapolis.  I knew he was probably
giving her money, but I didn't say anything."

"Well, we offered, but

"She didn't like the turn the conversation was taking. "Maybe some for'
expenses I'm not sure.  Jared handled all the details of the adoption,
but it wasn't like ... like we bought Peter or anything."  Whatever the
arrangements had been, Raina felt that she owed Tomasina Skinner a debt
of unending gratitude, regardless of whether her father approved. She
braced her hand on the edge of the table, leaned closer and entrusted
him with the simple heart of her cause.  "I've been Peter's mother since
he was six days old, Mr. Skinner.  I love him very much." He nodded and
pointed toward the end of the table.  "Hand me that pail of water there.
This bark has to be soaked."

She jumped at the chance to accommodate him and to talk about something
else.

"What are you making?  Will this " Who wants coffee?  " Gidcon appeared
at the door, steam rising from the mdamine cups he carried, one in each
hand. Peter came next.  With his free hand he held the door for Gideon,
who served Rains one of the cups and kept the other for himself. Peter's
cup was for his grandfather.  98 Defender "Don't hardly keep any pop
around."  Arlen 'nodded his thanks, then sipped noisily, his grimace a
sign that the coffee was especially hot. "Mmm, good and strong.  Next
time you come, I'll have some pop for you, ninaoshishan.  What kind do
you like?" "Any kind."  A long, narrow, bark-covered bowl on the table
caught Peter's attention.  He touched one of the Clothespins that held
the lining in place.

"What're you making?"

"Winnowing baskets," Arlen said.

"Good birch-bark baskets.  That one's drying."

"They're for ricing," Gideon put in.

Arlen set his cup down.

"You like wild rice?"  he asked Peter as he gathered several pieces of
bark for the pail Raina had set next to him.

"It's okay.  We don't have it much."

"I do make wild-rice stuffing sometimes," Raina put in quickly. "We're
going to teach her how to bait her own hooks next.  We'll get her
trained."  Gideon slid Raina a teasing smile, then nodded toward Peter.
"This guy's gonna make a hell of a good fisherman.  He caught a nice
walleye the other day."  He held up his hands to show Arlen, measuring
generously.

"That sucker was two pounds, easy."

'"Bigger than that," Peter insisted, moving Gideon's left hand another
inch. He grinned, ignoring the dubious look on Gideon's face.

"More like that, yeah."

"Born fisherman," the boy's grandfather said. As Arlen demonstrated the
basket-making process, he described how the baskets would be used during
the early autumn wild-rice harvest, when the Chippewa would exercise
another of their treaty rights.  It was an important source of income
for him and for many others.  He lamented the competition from the new
cultivated varieties of wild rice, Defender 99 which was not rice at
all, but truly a lake-grass grain, and he noted that~ the "farm stuff"
was not to be mistaken for the real thing.

"That stuff has to he labeled 'cultivated,"

" Gideon pointed out. "Real Wild rice is longer, lighter in color,
tastes better, and it's gathered in baskets like these by real Indians
in real canoes.  Right, Arlen?" "Big difference.  Big, big difference?"
He wagged a gnarled finger and gave Raina the hint of a smile.

"You remember this when you make your stuffing next time."

When it was almost time to go, Peter helped Raina clear away cups and
led the way inside. "I'll show you how we made the coffee, right on the
stove.  !  didn't know you Could do that.  I thought if you didn't use a
coffeemaker, you had to use instant.  Remember how Dad hated instant?"
,. Gideon watched them disappear into the house, then' turned to Arlen,
who offered him a cigarette.  Gideon told himself he didn't want to be
rude. Besides, he'd been doing well, and he owed himself one.  Arlen
leaned forward in his chair as Gideon struck a match on his thumbnail
and offered him first touch of the flame. "What do you think of your
grandson?"  Gideon the gritty pleasure of the first long, deep drag from
a good cigarette.

"He seems like a pretty well-adjusted kid, doesn't he?"

"Adjusted to What?"  Arlen's smoke mingled in the air with Gideon's.

"He has some things to learn yet."

"Well, sure, he's not quite thirteen."

"Things about who he is and where he comes from."

"That's why they came up here, Arlen.   Raina doesn't want to keep him
away from us.   She wants him to learn those things."  100 Defender The
old man gave the woman's purpose some thought as he smoke It a little
more.  Finally he shook his head.

"It's no good, Indians moving to the city."

Gideon studied his cigarette.  He couldn't argue that po'mt.  It hadn't
been that good for his brother, but it was all Jared had ever wanted.
"The good life" meant different things to different people, and Indians
were people, just like everyone else.  They paid their money and took
their chances, and they deserved the chance to choose. "You've let well
enough alone until now, Aden.  Why stir this up when the boy's almost
grown?"

"Seeing him with her," the old man recalled.

"No offense to your sister-in-law, but when I seen him with her, I knew
it wasn't right." Gideon understood how the old man must have felt,
seeing the boy for the first time, and then having Marvin Strikes Many
on hand with just the fight goad.  Something like, Your grandson's being
raised by a white woman, and Gideon Defender's the one to blame.

"Now that you've met her, what do you think?"

"I think she's still white."  Arlen appeared to be studying the toes of
his moccasins. "Like I said, no offense, but I think you're forget ling
just because she's your sis~r-in-law."  ' "She's a good mother.  You can
see that." "I can see that she cares for my grandson," he allowed.  "But
a boy his age needs a man to help raise him.  And a Chippewa boy needs"
-- "My father was dead by the time I was his age, and ter's" -- Gideon
closed his eyes briefly. The taste of cigarette smoke turned acrid in
his mouth.

"Peter's is, too."

The door he hind them opened, and Raina emerged, still praising Peter's
first efforts at stove-top coffee making.

Defender 101 Arlen looked up as Peter stepped out behind her.

"You would like wild rice the way I make it, ninaoshishan.  The rice I
have gathered myself." Peter touched the unfinished edge of the basket
on the table.  ':I wouldn't mind learning how to make these.  They look
pretty cool?  " "It looks something like that basket you made for me for
Mother's Day when you were about seven years old," Raina said proudly.
"That was just a grade-school project."  He shrugged off his achievement
as a pale comparison.

"The teacher did haft of it, and she was following directions out of a
book."

"That's what schoolteachers do."  Rains offered a maternal pat on the
shoulder.

"They get ideas from books.  There's nothing wrong with that."

"Nothing wrong with learning the old ways, either," Gideon said. "Put
the old ways together with a few new ideas, you never know.  You might
end up with the best of both worlds." "Or you might lose out."  After
dire cling it first at Peter, Arlen deftly transferred his admonishment
toward Gideon.  "You might lose everything, just like we've been doing
for the last hundred years. We've been compromi.  ~ing.  " The old
man-took a last puff on his cigarette, then spat the smoke in disgust as
he pressed the butt into a jar lid on the table.  He eyed Gideon
dispassionately.

"You're too young to be a tribal leader.  That's why I never voted for
you."

Gidcon shook his head, chuckling. "No beatin' around the bush, this
guy."  He followed Arlen's example, putting out his Cigarette in the jar
lid.  The end of a smoke signaled the end of a visit.

"That's all right, Arlen.  Man's gotta vote his conscience."

 102 Defender "Maybe you ought to think about teaching up here again,"
Arlen told Raina.

"Maybe your brother-in-law could get you a job."

"I've always loved this place."  She turned to her son.  Reading him
came less easy these days, but it was a mother's habit} and one she
wasn't ready to break.

"I don't think Peter wants to change schools."

Content to let the supposition stand, Peter tested the spring on one of
the clothespins holding the bark to the basket frame, then eased it back
into place.

"Next time you come back, we'll make a sweat," Arlen told Peter.

"We'll smoke the pipe together." Peter glanced at his mother, who was
dead set against smoking, then his uncle, who was trying to quit, and
finally his grandfather, who had offered him the forbidden fight there
in front of their faces. He'd never had a grandfather before, but he'd
heard there could be interesting benefits.

He smiled.

"That'd be cool." "Good."  The old man rose from the chaff slowly,
easing his stiff joints into motion.  --I will give you something, then.
A gift from your grandfather.  " At Gideon's house that evening, Raina
wasn't asked to stay for supper.  She was simply included.  But Peter
had a place at Gideon's table and a towel in Gideon's bathroom.  They
showed Raina the room they had fixed up for Peter downstairs, next to
the den, where the video games were now hooked up to the TV.  Gideon had
borrowed a rollaway from the lodge, and Peter had apparently acquired
some fishing tackle.  Raina didn't ask about it.  Seeing it shelved in
"Peter's room" near "Peter's bed" angered her a little, but it
frightened her more.  ' Defender 103 Peter had a room elsewhere, she
reminded herself.  He had a bed--a bigger one than this, made up with
the bedding she had chosen for it in the sub fie colors he tended to
choose for his clothes.  He liked blue denim and brown corduroy, not th9
gaudy plaid that covered the rollaway.  It hadn't been more than two
weeks since Raina had pulled a plaid shirt off a rack in a department
store, and Peter had said,

"No way.  I'm not wearin' that."

She was thinking of all those things as she helped Gideon put the last
of the dishes away~ She hadn't been much help, actually.  Peter had
taken out the trash, then bounded down the steps to use the TV in "his"
den.  Raina dried a few dishes and handed them to Gideon.  She could
have guessed where they might go, since the pine cupboards in the
kitchen were few in number. But whenever he had them open, she paid less
attention to what was inside than to the unconscious ease with which
Gideon took to such mundane chores. Gideon Defender putting his dishes
away in his ki~tchen, filling the coffeepot with water, clamping an
opener on a can and releasing the homey scent of fresh coffee.
Remarkable, she thought as she watched the strong hand that was a
natural at wood-chopping and paddle-wielding turn the crank on a kitchen
device. She'd never pictured him in h/s kitchen.  She'd never imagined
him in such domestic surroundings.  In her mind, he was part of the wild
life, both outdoors and, less frequently, in honky-tonks and pool rooms
She'd always been fascinated by the wildness she perceived to be
intrinsic in him.  Barely controlled, barely controllable, Gideon's very
nature was like a curious passageway that lured her with the promise of
something new and exciting at the end.  She'd always approached'
excitement cautiously, one shoulder  104 Defender leaning in its
direction, the other aimed for a last-minute ~cape. But she remembered
that, in the end, it was Gideon who had backed away. Maybe that was the
way of wildness, she had decided.  And in her mind she had consigned all
wildness to a world quite different from hers, a world full of
risk-taking and privation.  She hadn't expected it to live in a place
with dishes and cupboards, nor to make room in that place for her child.
She should have felt comfortable with it, now that she could see for
herself. how unexpectedly familiar so much of it was.  But she felt like
an outsider. And that scared her. "You've been pretty quiet," Gideon
observed as he handed her a cup of the coffee he'd just made.

"I thought some decal might go down easy right about now."

She told herself it would be easier if she stopped letting his every
move surprise her, and she murmured her thanks.

"Mii gwech," he said with a warm smile.

"You remember.  Mii gwech?

Thanks?  "

"Mii gwech," she repeated softly.  They faced each other across the
small kitchen, each with a countertop to lean against, each with cup in
hand.

"You speak Ojibwa fluently, don't you?"

"Mmm-hmm."  He sipped his coffee. "I get stumped when people ask me to
spell it, though.  I speak it, but I don't write it."

"I don't think Jared knew much of the language at all."

"See, I'm one up on him.   But don't tell Peter.   I don't want to spoil
anything for him."   He glanced away.

"The dad who knew everything.  That was Jared.

The man who could do no wrong.  "

"Was that the way you saw him," too?  "

He glanced at her curiously, then dismissed the question by changing the
subject entirely. "What did you think of Defender 105 Arlen's
suggestion?  The one about coming back here to teach."

"It's a little late in the year to start applying for teaching jobs."

"There are still a couple of openings.  I checked." "And you'd put in a
good word for me?"  He nodded.  '% few days ago you were discouraging an
extended stay," she reminded him. "You said the political climate had
rendered relations a bit" -- the pause Was mosfiy for effect, because
she did remember "--dicey was the word you used."

"That was then," he quipped, his tone suddenly as flat as hers was
sharp.

"This is now."

"Yes."  An outsider, she told herself, needed to be sharp.  Stay sharp.

Mix in a little sarcasm. "And what a difference a day makes, hmm?  A
little controversy over a few fish suddenly seems rather insignificant."

"Not to me."  He studied her with expressionless eyes.  "Not to us."

"And my son is now~:ourt-ordered to be one of you."  "He always was."

"I don't mean culturally.  I never disputed that.  I mean politically."

"It's one and the same."  He drew a deep breath, still watching her,
waiting with less than his usual patience for her to stop skirting the
issue. "You haven't answered my question, Raina.  I don't know what your
lawyer told you, but I'm telling you there's a good possibility that
Judge Half will rule that Aden deserves some time with his grandson and
vice versa.  I don't know how much time, and I don't know how he'll
suggest you work it.  I just know that the precedent is pretty well
established."  106 Defender Sharp, she told herself.  Stay sharp.  But
she glanced away, the threat of too much truth blunting her will.  "Yes,
that's what my lawyer said."

"You won't lose him," he said.

The hope that he knew something she didn't brought her eyes back to his,
wordlessly asking for a promise.

"No one's going to take him away from you."  He couldn't stop himself.

When she.  looked at him that way, he had to give her what she wanted. '
That's not gonna happen.  I won't"-- He swallowed hard, looking
elsewhere for help--the bright light above the sink, the shiny faucet,
the dish drainer. "Well, the judge won't let that happen.  He knows it's
too late to take the boy back."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah."  He nodded persuasively.

"I can't see that happening now."

I've thought about trying to get my old job back here.  " She offered a
tentative smile.

"I checked, too.  They need a fourth-grade teacher.

I just don't know whether it would he good for Peter.  Jared didn't
think much of the schools up here.  "

"He didn't think much of the life up here."  Gideon stared into his cup.

"But as it turned out, life in the fast lane didn't agree with him all
that well, either.~" "He used to say that you were the one looking for
fast... oh, fast thrills or something." "That's cheap thrills."  His
brow furrowed as he made a pretense of searching for the right words. "A
fast buck and a faster woman.  I think that about sums up my brother's
favorite assessment of my basic needs." "He never spoke unkindly of you,
Gideon.  Sometimes I thought he envied you your" -- she shrugged,
glancing around her as if some piece of it might be found in his kitchen
"--your freewheeling life-style." Defender 107' "My 'freewheeling
life-style," " Gideon repeated with a dry chuckle.

"Right.  Nothing about my life appealed to Jared.

"The good life'--that's what Jared wanted.  The American dream, looming
off in the distance at the end of that fast lane."  He shook his head,
raising his coffee cup as though he were toasting her. "I had nothing he
envied.  He had goals--I had needs.  Big difference between the two."

 "You don't think Jared had needs?"

"They were always met."  His eyes conveyed the full weight of his
meaning.

"Always."

"And yours?" He answered with a look, smoldering in silence.  "Gideon, I
have to ask you something."  But she had to glance away before she
withered beneath the heat in his dark eyes. "Something I've thought
about often over the years, but never" -- She bit her lip, hesitating as
she looked up at him again and sought his indulgence. "I never asked,
even though I told myself there was a good chance the truth would ease
my mind.  But the prospect of opening a ruinous can of worms was always
enough of a deterrent." Bettore she went on, she stepped to the back of
the kitchen and quietly closed the door at the top of the basement
steps.  His eyes followed her every move.

She took a deep breath as she came back to him, speaking softly,
steadily.

"I have a feeling you know more about the circumstances of Peter's
adoption than I do."

"What do you mean?"

"Specifically," she began carefully, "about Peter's biological father."
She looked up, looked him straight in the eye.

"Was it Jared?"

He was thunderstruck.

"Jared?"

She squared her shoulders, preparing herself to hear the truth, whatever
it was.

"Did Jared have an affair with Tomasina Skinner?"

 108 Defender "That's a hell of a thing for you to ask me, Raina."  He
suddenly looked confused, even hurt. "My brother's dead.  Why would you
even...?"  He shook his head, staring at her as though she'd just popped
out of the floor.

"Why would you think that?"

"Most people wait years for an adoption.  Our was almost too easy."

She wasn't going to let his reaction alter her course.

"I said that to Jared once, just ... just wondering how it came about.
He said that being an Indian was an advantage for a change."

"That and being a lawyer."

"But it was all so" -- Too good to be true, too wonderful to question.

"One day he knew where we could get a baby, and the next day we had
Peter."

"Didn't happen quite that fast." "But Jared had had very little contact
with the reservation since we left, as far as I knew.  He seemed to go
out of h/s way to avoid..." "Avoid... what?"  Gideon's smile did not
reach his eyes.  "Or should I say who?" "All things Indian, I guess.
Once he'd left it behind !~him, he kept saying he didn't want to look
back?" "You guys wanted a baby," Gideon recalled for her, and she
nodded, acknowledging that much. "Jared said he had a low sperm count.
It was like he was confessing some terrible personal secret when he told
me, like he'd found out he was mi.~sing" -- For lack of acceptable
words, he used those he once scoffed at. "'what separates the men from
the boys," I think he said.  I thought he meant he couldn't get it"--
His gesture, turning out to be as awkward as any word he could have
chosen, ended in a frustrated slap to his own thigh.

"You know, I thought he meant he couldn't perform."

Defender 109 "Perform?"  She shook her head. "His sperm count was below
average, but it wouldn't have been impossible for him to father a
child... or for me, except for my..." "He said you had a problem, too,
but he didn't get" -- Personal was the word that came to mind.  The idea
grated on him, but it had seemed as though once she'd become Jared's
wife, nothing about Raina had been any of Gideon's damn business.  He
settled on

"Technical."

"I have a tipped uterus," she told him. "Which isn't the end of the
world, either, but with the combination of the " He couldn'tproduce.
Couldn't get you pregnant.  "

Her eyes turned icy.

"Sounds like you're talking about breeding stock instead of people?" He
knew it did, just as he knew that the pleasure he took in making such a
statement was of a pretty perverse nature.  Jared couldn't get the job
done.

"So you're thinking he managed to get another woman pregnant."

"The thought did occur to me, yes."

"Are you jealous?"

"Jealous!"  She scowled. "My husband is dead, for heaven's sake."  ~
"They're both dead, for heaven's sake."  He lowered his voice and
persisted.

"Are you jealous?"

"No."  She had the look of a woman who'd swallowed the first half of a
dose of bitter medicine and was still determined to take the rest.

"But I think I'm entitled to the truth.  Did he confide in you?"

"I just told you what he confided." "That's not what I'm asking."  She
sighed, then recited with exaggerated patience, "I know he's not here to
defend himself, and I know you don't want to betray his memory in any
way.  Or his trust, or your sacred oath, or whatever."  She laid her
hand on his arm, found it rigid, and her touch  110 Defender turned to
subtle stroking.

"But it can't change anything now, can it7" His throat went dry.

"Not for him."

"Then tell me, Gideon."  The pressure on his arm be, came insistent.

"Did Jared have an affair with Peter's mother?" His memory, his trust, a
damned sacred oath?  Did she imagine he had a suit of shining armor on"
too?

Gideon shook his head and turned away.

Chapter 6 She followed him to the back porch, where she waited, watching
him light up the second cigarette he'd had in as many months.  The
second in a single day.  The red ash glowed steadily in the dark as he
filled his lungs, seeking the insidious calm of an internal haze. Gideon
held his breath, mixed with the smoke, willing it to do its damage the
way it always had, the way so many things had.  If it felt good now, it
would hurt later.  But he could take it.  Hell, he was tough. But Raina
wasn't.  She was a good woman, but she wasn't tough.  Jared hadn't been
tough, either.  He'd been smart, but not tough.  And Peter.  well, Peter
was still young yet.  Soft and malleable.  With any luck he would end up
good and smart, loving and well loved, proud of his heritage and strong
in every way.  And with all that going for him, maybe he wouldn't have
to he tough. She stood behind him, waiting for her answer, and, damn his
mean soul, he wanted to tell her yes.  Yes, your husband  112 Defender
was a sinner, too, and yes, he screwed up sometimes, and yes, Raina, you
married the wrong man. But he couldn't quite get the words out.  He
wasn't sure why.  There was no one to dispute them, and they might have
served him well.

For.  some equally mysterious reason, he couldn't tell her no, either.

"What difference does it make, Raina?" There was no sound, and even
though she had to be standing at least a foot away from him, he could
feel her body stiffen.  His first response to her question had seemed to
confirm her suspicions, and she was wrestling with it. He could help her
with that, he told himself. He could spare the living and let her think
what she would of the dead.  I'm here for you, he could say.  He'd
always known the truth would hurt, but whom would it hurt, and how?
"There's the chance that Jared's health problems might he hereditary,"
she suggested, almost timidly. He stared through the screen into the
night.  The trees behind the house stood like dark, shadowy sentries,
and in the distance, there were lights twinkling on the lake.

"Is that it?"  he asked quietly.

"Is that why you want to know whether Jared had an affair?"

"I'm asking you whether Jared was Peter's biological father."

"No, you're asking me whether Jared cheated on you."  It was a question,
Gideon realized, that a man had to answer for himself.  All his brother
could say was

"If he did, it's history.  It doesn't matter anymore."

"Then he d/d."

"I didn't say that."  Yes, you did.  To her, you did.

"Hell, I don't know," he admitted, giving in with a sigh.

"I wasn't living with him.  You were."

Defender 113 "I know he kept a lot inside," she said.

"That's just the way he was.

And I guess we buried it with him.  "

"Digging it up now might not change anything, but it could hurt
somebody."

"Who?"  Her motherly nose smelled a threat.

"Peter?"

"First you.  Then maybe Peter.  Old ghosts ought to be left in the
closet, where they can't hurt innocent people." "I am Peter's real
mother," she insisted, as though she believed he needed persuading now,
too. "No matter what the circumstances of his conception or his birth
were, I'm his true mother.  And as his mother, I'm responsible for his
health and his well-being, so if there's any possibility that he's
inherited some kind of" -- "Jared was not Peter's father," Gideon said,
his tone carefully controlled, utterly flat.

"Not... biologically."

He took another pull on the cigarette, looking for heat.  He could have
sworn his skin was coated with ice.  When she'd brought up the subject,
he'd walked, but not far enough.  The complications were piling up so
damn fast he just wanted to walk out the door, jump in the lake and dive
to the bottom.

Instead, there in the dark, he faced her.

"Look, I knew you guys wanted a baby," he said carefully, because now it
was his turn to do some mental wres-fling with all those damn pieces of
the past. "And I knew that Tomasina Skinner planned to give hers up, so
I told Jared about it.  Simple as that.  The fact that Jared was an
Indian, along with him being a lawyer, made it as simple as that.  No
problem with the tribal court, and Jared handled the paperwork in the
state court, smooth as still waters." He turned away and dragged deeply
on his cigarette.  On a trail of smoke he added, "Then he went and died
on us." "Gideon, you can't fault him for"  114 Defender "Don't you?" He
wanted somebody else to, besides him.  "Sometimes?

Don't you ever say,

"Damn it, Jared, what did you have to go and die for?" " " In the last
week, sure.   Well, I guess there've been a few other times," she
admitted.

"But I know it's selfish for me to think that way, as though he had a
choice."

"Maybe.  But I get mad at him, anyway, for checkin' out so soon, leaving
some things unsettled between us."  He reached for the empty coffee can
he'd left on the porch, thinking it would come in handy for something. "
He hadn't expected it to be an ashtray.

Damn the complications, he told himself.

But a picture of his brother formed in his mind, and it made him smile.
"Guess we're both human, huh?  But if o1' Jared's earl led his
wings--and knowing him, he did it summa olm laude--then I don't believe
he'll be wasting eternity looking for ways to use anything we say
against us.  I think he's above all that now."

"Yes, he is," she said with a sigh.

"And I'm left with a predicament that wouldn't be a problem if he were
here."

She sank into one of the wicker porch chairs and began deliberating
aloud.

"I could move up here.  That really wouldn't be a problem.  The sensible
thing for me to do is to apply for a job here.  That way, whatever
happens, I can adjust." The hand she lifted toward him was the color of
moonlight.  "Peter's all I have, Gideon.  Everything else is
superfluous.  Is it possible... could I lose him entirely?"

"Not as long as he breathes."

As quickly as he reached out from the shadows, her small hand
disappeared between his, which were larger and darker and much, much
warmer than hers. "Peter is just as surely your son as you are his
mother.  He's never gonna forget that." Defender 115 ~ "But... say if
this treaty thing turns out badly for you, and there's a lot of
resentment over it, and the judge looks at me, and he sees. a white
woman who's your sister-in-' law..." "Don't be lookin' to buy trouble
now," he warned, seating himself in the chair next to hers. "We've got
enough to worry about.  And I'm not going to let Peter become a
political football.  That I can promise you, Raina."

"Are you... on my side at all?"

"I am."  He rubbed her hand, warming it between his.  ~ "Mostly because
I'mon Peter's side."  He cleared his throat of the bitter taste of
having to qualify a promise that he wanted to give her outright.

"He's lost Jared, too.  I don't want to see him lose his mother."

"But the interests of the Pine Lake Band" -- "Are my respousib'dity."
He felt her stiffen again, and he withdrew, leaning back into the
shadows. "Make no mistake about that.  I won't compromise the interests
of the people. But Peter is~ the of the people.  The fact that you're
not isn't as important to me as the fact that he/s."

"Is that supposed to be encouraging?"

"When you're talking to the chairman of our tribal band, yeah, it should
be encouraging.  I happen to think the judge will see it that way, too."
"What about Peter's uncle?  What about my brother-in-law, my" -- she
gestured, searching, and her hand came to rest on his knee "--my old
friend. I want to be able to talk to h/m without talking to the tribal
chairman.  Is that possible?"

"Depends on what you want to talk about."

"what I'm thinking.  What I'm feeling.  How worried I was the whole time
I was gone, and how glad I am to be back."  She paused.  The way her
hand stirred against his jeans was appealing in every sense he could
imagine. "Can  116 Defender you take your chairman's hat off for a
while and let me talk to Gideon?"

"I can take off anything you want," he told her.

"Anything that's in your way." "Shades of the Gideon Defender I used to
know."  There was an echo of relief in' her laughter, a full range of
appre-ciativehess in the way she patted his knee.

"There must be a happy medium."

"Yeah."  Gideon wasn't particularly amused.

"His name was Jared."

Before she left, Raina went downstairs to say good-night to Peter. She
found him asleep on the sofa in the den.  She started to wake him, but
Gideon was right behind her with a blanket.

"Let him sleep," he whispered as he covered the boy.  "He's on
vacation."

The only thing Gideon regretted was that Peter was too big for him to
lift in his arms and carry into the bedroom without waking him.  He
could have done that the last time the boy had visited, when Peter was
only six.  He could have kissed him good-night then, too, the way Raina
did. And there had been a time before that when he would have kissed her
good-night, a time when she would have expected him to.  A time before
the first time she'd said, We can't let this happen. If she'd wanted him
to kiss her this time, she might have lingered at the door.  He knew she
didn't feel right, leaving without her son.  He could hear it in her
voice.  On the way to the front door, he'd kept his hands off the
switches to avoid shining a rude light on her sadness, not because he
hoped that in the dark she might reach out to him again, might turn and
touch him somehow before she left for the night. Defender 117 And she
didn't, of course.  He had something she wanted, but tonight it was not
his kiss.  She hardly paused at the threshold.  She sun ply told him in
passing that it would be her turn to make supper tomorrow, and she
hurried out the.  door. Gideon had changed a great deal in fifteen
years.  He wondered whether Raina realized that, and whether it mattered
to her.  He and Jared had never had. much in common, but Gideon had
respected his brother for what he'd made of himself.  Even though he
knew the feeling had not held true in reverse, he indulged himself in
thinking that it might have, had Jared lived a little longer. But what
about Raina?  With her back against the wall, she was talking about
moving back onto his turf, and she wanted to know whose side he was on.
He couldn't blame her for clinging to the notion that the world was made
up of straight, rigid sides rather ~an curves that might bend and
rebound, ebb and flow.  They saw the world from different perspectives,
just as he and Jared had. Jared had clawed his way closer to Raina's
vantage point, and Peter.  well, Peter's parents had been handpicked, so
that he might enjoy the advantages of having an Indian father who had
made it in the white world and a mother who truly wanted a baby. Whose
side was he on?  When it came right down to the bare bones, hadn't he
always been on her side?  Hadn't he taken her emphatic no.

for an answer?  Hadn't he stepped aside and stayed out of their lives?

Hadn't he given her what she'd wanted, always?  Maybe she still didn't
see it that way, didn't even realize it, because she'd never bothered to
in-yen tory her allies.  But he had been on h~ side even when he doubted
the existence of sides. And if there were sides, they were all curved.
There were surely no straight lines, nothing to keep Raina's path par
118 Defender allel to, but separate from, his.  The great distance
between them had gradually, inevitably closed in on them again, for all
things in life were, after all, circular. But he was on Peter's side of
the circle now, too.  He had been there at the beginning, and now the
years had rolled around an inner curve and bumped the boy up against him
again.  That was the way of things. Gideon had learned the hard way.  If
Jared had lived a little longer, smart as he was, he would have come to
recognize the circle, too. Early the next morning Gideon went downstairs
to wake Peter for breakfast. When he found only a rumpled blanket and a
sofa pillow, he swore to him~ If that the next time the boy tried this,
he wouldn't make it out of the house without running smack into Gideon,
even if it meant he had to take up sleeping on the sofa.

"Hey, Uncle Gideon, is it okay if i put a nail in this wall?"

The voice coming from Peter's bedroom glided over Gideon's ruffled
feathers. He kept a lid on his sigh of relief and followed the sound,
ready with a smile by the time he reached the doorway.  Apparently
sometime during the night Peter had opted for more comfortable sleeping
arrangements and moved to his bed.  ~ .

"You got something you want nailed down?"

Peter handed Gideon a l~eather-wrapped circlet about the size of a small
phte.

"I tried a tack, but it fell on my head this morning.

Nirnishoomis gave it to me.  He made it himself.  " It looked like a
large spider's web woven of sinew on a willow hoop.  Blue and white
feathers and beads dangled from the bottom of the hoop, and there was a
loop at the top.

"He told me to hang it over my bed."

"It's a dream catcher Gideon ~amined the fine workmanship of the
webbing. Peter couldn't ask for a better at Defender 119 tis an to teach
him than his grandfather.

"Do you know what this is for?"

"To catch dreams?" "The bad ones get caught in the web."  Gideon
fingered a blue bead woven into the lower portion of the web. "You see,
like this little rascal here.  But the good ones slip on through" -- he
demonstrated with sinuous, undulating fin-gets that took a plunge behind
Peter's ear "--and into your head."

The boy laughed.

"It's a nice decoration, anyway.  I needed something to hang on the
wall."

"You don't think it'll work?"

Peter's face formed a get-real expression.

"You've never had to worry about bad dreams?"

"I've had a few."  Reclaiming his gift, he rolled his thumb over the
blue bead. "Sometimes I dream that my dad's still alive.  The only bad
part is waking up and realizing it was just a dream."  He lifted his
bony shoulders in an exaggerated, heartstring-tugging shrug. "Then
sometimes I dream that he's not dead yet, but I, like, know something
bad's about to happen, and I want to stop it, but I can't."  ~ Abruptly
those big, black eyes looked up at Gideon, their innocence completely
unguarded. "It's pretty stupid, you know?  But it seems real, even after
I wake up, at least for a minute or two.  I really hate it when that
happens," "I know what you mean."

"You do?"

"Sure."  He wanted to hug the boy, to take comfort with him after the
fact. But he held back, laying a hand on h/s shoulder ins lead-"Sure I
do.  I've had dreams about him, too."

Peter hung his head, ostensibly studying the intricacies of the dream
catcher

"Sometimes I don't want to sleep at night."  120 Defender "I know how
that is, too.  A guy gets to be your age, he starts feeling a little
restless.  Hungry for a little excitement."  That's when you go out and
try to hunt up some kind of distraction.

Peter tapped Gideon's arm with his fist.

"I suppose when a guy gets to be your age, the excitement's pretty much
over for him, so he turns into a killjoy for the rest of us." "How did
we go from me sympathizing with you to you pushing me over the hill
prematurely?" "We were talking about dreams, and how a guy can wake up"
-- Peter's short, lived smile faded "--feeling kinda weird."

"You mean weird scared, or weird weird?"

"Weird like you see something in your dream, like maybe a picture you
saw in a magazine or something."  He risked a brief glance at Gideon's
poker face. Seeing no sign of comprehension, he took the further risk of
elaborating. "A magazine that you didn't buy yourself, but another guy
maybe found in his dad's workshop.  You know what I mean?"

"I'm pretty sure I get the picture."

"Really.  Pictures like you can hardly believe.  You know, it is kinda
fun to draw mustaches and glasses, tattoos and stuff like that, on most
of 'em, but then" -- he popped a quick shrug "--maybe you leave one or
two without any touch-ups... you know, artistically speaking ... just
because you kinda like them the way they are." "Some of them aren't
half-bad without the tattoos," Gideon allowed, hanging on dearly to that
poker face. "A guy might even be half-tempted to tear one of those pages
out of the magazine and stick it in his drawer." "Nab, my mom's always
putting my clothes away, so I can't keep anything private."  Peter's
careless drop onto the bed stretched the wheezing springs to their
limit. "I mean, Defender 121 if I wanted to keep something like that
around.  Which I wouldn't, because sometimes if you go to sleep thinking
about, say something in a picture, and you dream that, like, something
happens, and you wake up, and you realize it was only a dream..."  His
voice dropped to the confessional level.

"But something really happened."

"And your bed's wet," Gideon kindly finished for him.  "I'm not a baby."
Peter's cheeks flashed like neon apples.  "I don't wet the bed.

Something e/se happened.  What, do you think I'm a baby?  "

"I think you're becoming a man, and men" -- "Ejaculate, I know.  I mean,
hell, I'm not a little kid.  I know all about sex and stuff, but" -- his
hands flopped helplessly against the bed "--I wasn't doing anything."
Gideon sat down on the bed beside him, bracing his elbows on his knees
and wondering who'd ordered him up this baptism by fire before
breakfast.  He'd just barely had time to get his toes wet. After a
couple of false starts, he spread his hands in a commiserating gesture.

"You don't have to be doing anything."

At the news, Peter looked grief-stricken.

"You mean it can happen, like, anytime?"

"It can happen in your sleep.  It happens to all of us."  Gideon's nod
affirmed their fellowship as two healthy, normal males. "Mostly when
we're your age.  Before the excitement's pretty much over for us."

"It happened to you?"

"Sure." God help him, he didn't want to mess this up.  He had to give
the boy credit for having the nerve to broach the subject with an adult
instead of another kid his age.  By the time he was Peter's age, he'd
managed to gather such an ency 122 Defender clopedia of misinformation
that he'd gone to the mirror one morning expecting to find that his eyes
were turning green. Peter was visibly relieved to learn that he wasn't
alone in his predicament. He toyed with the dream catcher rolling it
between his palms.

"What did you do about... the bed?"  "I cleaned it up."

"My more would get pretty suspicious if I washed my own sheets."

"Your more knows all about sex, too."

"She doesn't know about" -- Peter's eyes flashed in horror.  "I told
you, I wasn't doing anything." "I know what you're saying.," Anybody
else's more but yours.  You don't want me to mention your mona and sex
in the same sentence. "At least you've got.  a washing machine.  We
didn't.  No dryer, either.  So I just-kinda cleaned up a little, left
the bed" -- He glanced over his shoulder at the rumpled sheets.

"You're not still letting your mom make your bed, are you?"

"Well, yeah."

"There's your problem.  See, I never had my own room.  I had to share.

And nobody ever cleaned up after me.  But I think if you take care of
your own bed put your own clothes away, keep things kinda straightened
up, you'll have more privacy.  "

Peter had to think that one over.

And another one, as well.

"You really think she knows about stuff like this?  My morn?"

"You mean, sex?"  Gideon smiled benevolently.

"It's hard to imagine, isn't it?"

"Kinda."  Peter shrugged.

"Hell, she doesn't know anything about what it's like to be a guy."

"She knows what it's like to he a woman.  That's pretty damned hard for
me to imagine."  Gideon gave a quick cross-check.

"How about you?"

Defender 123 "Imagine be' rag a woman?  Who'd want to be a woman?"  He
rolled his eyes at the very thought.

"Or a girl.  I wouldn't want to be a girl.

Geez, that would really suck.  " "I think women have it hard in a lot of
ways, but the old way teaches us that women have strong power, and they
must be respected for that.

They have life-giving medicine.  "

"You mean, they can have babies.  Big deal.  I'm glad we don't have to
get pregnant and stuff."  Peter's boyish laugh sounded, blessedly, as
giddy as any twelve-year-old girl's.  "Imagine a pregnant soccer
goalie."

Gideon grinned.

"Is that your position?  Goalie?"

"I'd like to see you play sometime."

Peter nodded.  Then he remembered the catch.

"Maybe I won't he playing this fall, huh?  If I have to stay here?"

 "How would you feel about changing schools?" "I wouldn't like it much."
He examined the dream-catcher, which seemed to have become a touchstone
for serious consideration.

"I

guess one of my buddies is moving to Cleveland next month.  His father
got transferred.  "

"So you understand that it's a necessity sometimes?"

Without looking up, Peter nodded.

"Is it going to be this time?"

"We'll try to take things as they come, okay?  We'll work things out one
step at a time."

"My mom's talking about applying for a job here."

"I know.  You can be damn sure, whatever happens, she's gonna be right
there with you." "It was pretty nice of nimishoomis to make this for
me."  He lifted up the hoop and held it toward the window, letting the
morning light flow through.  124 Defender "You got that word down
pretty good," Gideon allowed. "Nirnishoornis.

Do you take any languages in.  school?  "

"I've had some French.  I could learn Ojibwa easy."  Peter closed one
eye, sighting through the web. "So some dreams get caught in the web,
huh?  They just get stuck there, like, where everyone can see them?"
"Not those dreams.  Only the bad ones."  Gideon gave Peter's knee a
playful sock with his knuckles. "The kind you were talking about?  It
lets those through.  They're really not bad."  He bounced the edge of
his curled hand repeatedly on the boy's knee as he spoke. "Stuff happens
to guys, stuff happens to girls.  It evens out.  It all works out pretty
good in the end, you know, when you get older and you parmer up with
the' right lady."

"So where's your lady?"

"We-ell, guess I must be doing something wrong.  I've been dreaming
about her since I was your age, but no partnership so far."  Gideon
shrugged. "Nothing lasting, anyway."  ' "Kind of at ate bloomer, aren't
you?"  Peter offered the dream catcher as he elbowed Gideon's arm.
"Maybe you'd better get nimishoomis to make you a few of these.  In~
your odds before you really get too old." "Trouble is, these only work
when you're asleep.  With my luck, I'll be meeting up with the ones that
should have gotten caught in the web." "Never know," Peter hinted,
flashing an impish smile.  "Maybeyou're the one that got caught in their
webs." Chapter 7 Arlen wanted his grandson to spend a weekend with him.
He'd been asked to judge more dance contests, and he was "kinda startin'
to like the idea of pickin' the winners."  He also liked the idea of an
old man's grandson accompanying him to the powwow, listening closely to
his words of wisdom, picking up a little' Ojibwa language and a few
dance steps along the way. At first Gideon had been inclined to dismiss
the idea, but he thought better of it after he'd put the suggestion to
Peter, who was willing. By this time Peter had made friends with a
couple of boys his- age, including Marvin Strikes Many's son, Tom, who
lived only a couple of miles from Arlen's cabin.  It had been a few
years since Arlen's own offspring had left home, and Gideon suspected
that having a teenager around for a couple of days might be all it would
take to convince Arlen to back off on his demands, to accept regular
visits from his grandson rather than push for a  126 Defender change in
Peter's custody.  Arlen was also just the man to encourage Peter's
burgeoning interest in Indian ways. The trick would be to persuade Raina
to give grandfather and grandson a little space without her supervision.
In pursuit of that end--and maybe in the interest of getting away from
any mention of the words treaty rights for a couple of days--he decided'
after supper one evening to ask her to share his own favorite space and
a brief bit of time exclusively with him. "Oh, it's been so long since
I've been to the North Woods, Gideon, I'd love to go."  Her smile was at
once wishful and apologetic. "But I think Peter should go along with us.
After all, he hardly knows Arlen.  I hardly know Arlen." Gideon handed
her the after-supper cup of coffee that was becoming.  a nightly ritual,
then took his seat beside her in what were becoming the his-and-hers
chairs on the porch.  "Would you consider leaving him with your own
father for a eoupIe of days?"

"Well, yes, but" -- "And your father lives where?"

"A retirement community in Arizona, which is why we haven't... which is
why Peter doesn't" -- "Know hhn very well, either?"  She nodded
regretfully.  He offered an accommodating comeback. "That's the way
things are these days.  People are free to find a climate that fits
them, but the down side is that family members are scattered from hell
to T~xas." Ease her into this, he told himself.  He considered the
various aspects of his plan as he sipped his coffee.  He liked its
prospects. It involved a fair amount of diplomacy, which was turning out
to be one of his strong suits.  If he played his cards right, he might
be able to keep everyone happy.

Defender .

127 "I think it might h~ your cause if you showed the judge that you're
willing to let him have a relationship with his grandfather."

"I am," she insisted.

"I want that, for Peter's sake.  I've said so."

She glanced away.

"But I'm not sure we should..." "What?"  By we, he knew she meant the
two of them.  "What are you afraid of, Rain aT She stared out at the
lake. "Are you still afraid of me?"  he asked carefully, barely disturb'
rag the weight of her silence. "I was never afraid of you."  Her voice
trailed off on the tail of her flimsy fib.

"I just don't think I should go traipsing off...."

"With me."

"Without Peter."

"Peter will do just fine with his grandfather for a couple of days, and
you'll be okay with me."  He laid a hand over his heart and offered his
most endearing smile.

"Will you trust me on this one?"

She held up two fingers.

"what does that mean?  Peace?  Victory?"

"Two," she informed him.

"Two counts you're asking me to trust you on."

He slid his palm over the two fingers, folding them back into her hand,
his eyes inviting her to give in to her own fancy for a change, to stop
questioning and submit.  Enveloping her small hand in his, he brought
both to rest on his thigh. "You remember that place I told you about way
back when?"  For him it was a onco-upon-a-time.  It had no name or
number. "I told you I'd take you to a special place come spring, a place
you'd never want to leave."

"I remember.  You called it Hidden Falls.  We never got there."

"Come with me now."  128 .  Defender He waited, his eyes daring her to
accept, even though he knew damn well he'd already lured her past her
intent to refuse.

She drew her smile out slowly, but her answer glittered in her eyes.

Ordinarily it would have been next to impossible to get a permit to go
into the wilderness area on such short notice, but having been a guide
himself, Gideon had connections.  All'it took was a phone call to his
old friend and former employer, 'camping outfitter Jim Collins, and
everything was arranged. Jim had their canoe and supply packs ready.
Gideon didn't need the detailed maps the outfitter also provided.  Even
Jim allowed that the "chief" of the Pine Lake Band of Chippewa knew the
North Woods better than anyone.

But he did have one word of caution for Gideon.

"There is one fishing party out there that... Well, maybe you'll just
wanna keep an eye out and steer clear."  The outfitter looked at Raina
reflectively, then added an extra foam pad to the sleeping gear. "You
wanna take special care when you're escorting a pretty lady, take a few
extra precautions, add a little extra comfort." "Keep 'era comin' back.
Yeah, I remember."  Gideon of-feted Raina her pick from the beef jerky
jar on Jim's desk.  When she declined, he helped himself.

"So what's with this fishing party?  What's their problem?"

Lean as a scarecrow, Jim gave a sardonic chuckle as he hitched up his
ever-sagging jeans.

"Nothing a little attitude adjustment wouldn't cure."

"Always give the client his due, Jim."  Gideon tore into the strip of
leathery meat with his back teeth.

"Couple of weekend Daniel Boones who don't need a guide?"

Defender 129 "No, these two are regulars.  Been coming up here for
years. Chuck Taylor and Daryl Weist.  Did you ever run into them when
you were working for us?" "I d6h't member taking them out back then, but
I know I've run across those names recently."  It was important to
remember the names.  The same ones showed up repeatedly on letters and
petitions.  He made a point of t~memhering the names of his adversaries,
but he didn't want the faces fixed in his mind.  The smug and incensed
faces of people who showed up at public information meetings and
state-house-step rallies. "Those guys belong to a group called the North
Woods Anglers Club," he told Jim. "Real vocal about their commitment to
saving the state's natural resources." ' "They also know everything
there is to know about Indians."  Jim slanted his friend a look that
mixed amusement with disgust.  "why, they were telling me just yesterday
how a compromise with the Pine Lake Band would be just like making a
pact with the devil, since Indian fish and wildlife managers never
bother to enforce the tribal regulations and quotas in the first place,
and since they don't know, uh" -- He grinned.

"Don't know diddly-squat about wildlife management, anyway."

"Yeah, right," Gideon sneered.

"Did they really say 'diddly?  squat'?"

"Well, words that smelled the same."  Jim tossed Gideon a waterproof
fanny pack emblazoned with the outfitting company's logo.

"Compliments of the house."

"Thanks."  Gideon opened the bag and start~ transferring the contents of
his pockets. "Besides," Jim went on, "these guys have read their history
books, and they know damn well Indians don't really believe in other's
law.  According to them, that's why the  130 Defender tribal courts
routinely dismiss most of the cases that come before them."

"Can I count on that?"  The irony of the claim almost made Raina laugh.

"You can count on not being tried in tribal court," Gideon told her.

"Their jurisdiction doesn't cover you."  He raised a warning hand.

They had an agreement.

"End of discussion."

"For now." "So these guys gave you quite an earful."  Gideon tucked his
billfold into the self-sealing pack.

"Where do you stand on the treaty issue, Jim?"

"On the side of good sense.  The way I see it, you guys decide to go to
court, you're gonna win.  You should win.  Just out of curiosity, I read
a copy of the treaty.  I'm no lawyer, but it looks to me like you could
end up with half the fish and game harvest in that
eouple-million-acre--whad-dyacallit?--ceded territory area if you take
this thing to court.  I think you oughta hang in there and go for the
brass ring, man."  With a shrug, Jim acknowledged that it was no risk to
him to talk big. "" Course, my business is outside of that ceded
territory.  " "Yeah, well, if we could compromi~, we might be able to
keep the peace." Gideon sealed the pouch, then nodded toward Raina.

"Doesn't she get one of these, too?"

"Sure."  Absently, Jim turned his attention to the supply shelves.  The
seat of his jeans drooped ~ an empty feed-bag.  "Besides" -- for a
moment he forgot what he was looking for, and his hand was still busy
helping him expound "--there ain't enough of you to make a dent in that
kind of haul. What've you got down there?  A couple thousand Pine Lake
Chippewa?" "Twenty-five hundred, and most of the members are living off
the reservation."  Gideon noted with some amuse Defender 131 merit that
Jim, all wound up in his discourse, had just given Raina two of the
complimentary fanny packs. "Okay, so every man, woman and child goes out
hunting and fishing three hundred and sixty-five days a year, these guys
still got nothing to worry about." "They're worried about Indians
getting something they don't have themselves, which would be a real
turnabout, wouldn't it?"  Gideon helped himself to another stick of beef
jerky, using it as a pointer. "I'm worried about the threat of violence.
Like you say; our numbers are small." "The thing to remember is, these
two guys didn't talk real Gideon opened his mouth, then closed it, the
meat forgotten as he eyed Jim.

"Did you have anything to say to them?"

"I told them I didn't think the settlement would hurt anything."  Jim
shrugged, flashing Gideon a look of apology.  "Hell, those guys and
their buddies are paying customers, Gideon.  You know how that is.  I
ain't gonna argue with them too much." "You can't change their minds,
either.  No point in try" Just so you know they're out there.  " Jim
took a sparring stance and playfully cuffed Gideon on the shot rider "
Hell, they mess with you, they'll learn a little Something about Indians
they probably ain't figured out yet.  Like you don't wanna back Gideon
Defender into no damn comer, that's for sure.  "

"Sounds like there's a story there," Raina said.

"Hot damn, you shotfid have seen this guy."  Jim hitched his jeans up on
his skinny hips.  He didn't seem to notice that the effort was wasted.
"Playing pool down at the Duck's Tail, and some jerk tries to bad-mouth
this ol' warrior for  dancin' with the wrong, uh " Jim flashed Gideon a
querying glance. "Don't tell me the whole thing blow-by-blow," Raina
said, settling the question. "Just tell me exactly how many of his own
teeth this man has left in his head."

 "Never seen Gideon on the losin' end,"

Jim said.

"But I'm sure he's sent a few dentists some business."

"Well, as my buddy Clint Eastwood said..."  Gideon went snake-eyed, and
his voice dropped to a husky whisper.  "" I ain't like that no more.  ""
Shoreline trees bowed close to the lapping lake, some dipping their
leaves like women washing their hair.  The morning sun cast its bright
gems into tranquil waters as the canoe.  approached a family Of loons,
the two babies bobbing along behind their parents.  The distinctive
yodeling call carried across the water, answered in the' distance by a
similar song. "Can you tell the male from the female?"  Gideon asked, as
though he was giving a test.  The question was posed to her back, for it
was Gideon's powerful paddling that provided most of the propulsion and
steered the canoe, as well.  Raina got to play at paddling while she
enjoyed the ever-changing view.

"They look the same."

"Only the male does the yodeling.  He's letting his neighbors know he's
out strolling in' his own backyard."  Even as Gideon spoke, the loon
changed its tune from the haunting yodel to a quavering tremolo.
Abruptly it drew itself upright on the water, coiling its neck and
stretching the fullness of its five-foot wingspan.

"My God, he's big."  Raina's paddle froze in midair.

"Gideon, I think he's angry."

"He's charging," Gideon said with a chuckle.

"And we're paddling on past, Papa, so just relax."  Defender 133 ' "I
had no idea they were that big.  Boy, is he mad."  She swiveled in her
seat, amazed by the bird's ability to pull itself up in the water like a
747 taking to the air. "And their call always sounds so peaceful."  The
loon gave out another warning~ "On tape."

"On tape?"

"" Sounds of Nature' tapes.  I use them to help me sleep.  "."  The
1oon's angry cry echoed across the water.

"Whoa, I think they edited that one out."

"He's just letting us know he's there to protect his family.  He helped
incubate those chicks.  Earlier in the season, he carried the little
guys on his back a lot when Mama wanted to go diving."

"Diving?"

"Best diver there is."  Gideon's paddle dripped across the canoe as he
switched it to the other side. "We call him the mahng.  legend has it
that once the world was all wa~r.  And Chimaunido, who is God, asked for
a volunteer to dive to the bottom-and bring up some mud, so that He
could create the land.  Otter, Beaver and Muskrat each tried and failed.
Mahng was the only one who could hold his breath long enough and dive
deep enough to get the job done.  His bones are solid, so he's a much
heavier bird than, say, the mallard.  The air sacs under the 1oon's
sicin keep him afloat.  When he wants to make a dive, he just lets the
air out." "What does he do with all that weight when he wants to fly?"
"He needs a good stretch of water for his runway.   It takes some
heavy-duty paddling and wing-flapping for him to get airborne, but once
he's up, he can cruise over a hundred miles an hour."

The deep chuckle at Raina's back sent a shiver sluicing through her.

Gideon always told his stories, even the fables, as though they
explained some truth, great or small. Some truth about him' she thought.
Some simple truth about the enigma that was Gideon Defender. "Of course,
he's in serious trouble on the ground.  On land he can't take off and
can't walk worth a damn, 'cause his legs are stuck way back on his body
for diving;" He stopped paddling, and she followed suit, letting the
canoe drift. "So here's this creature who thrives only in water or in
the air--land is his nemesis--but when Chimaunido says, " Who'll help me
make the land?  " mahng turns out to be the right man for the job." In
the distance, the loon yodeled peacefully again.  "Mahng was given the
dentalium shell necklace as a reward," Gideon concluded.

"It's a sign of leadership.  Only a leader may wear the meg is
necklace."

' Raina turned, squinting into the sun.

"So where's yours?"

"!  have one."

"Really?"

"Would it surprise you to see me wear a necklace?"  He smiled. "Feathers
and beaded buckskins?  Would it surprise you to hear me sing Indian?  To
see me dance in the traditional way?"

"No, of course not."

"I have the meg is necklace, and the responsibility that goes with it.

Mahng is like my brother.  "

Raina laughed softly.

"You'd never guess that from the kind of welcome he just gave you."

"Guess I'm kinda like the prodigal brother."  He dipped his paddle into
the water again, but his eyes held hers.

"Like I said, he was just protecting his wife and kids."

"Maybe I'm the threat," she muttered as she turned, facing forward.
Maybe the bird could tell that she'd come from the city.  Maybe she
smelled of engine emissions, flu-orocarbons and oil spills. Defender 135
"I've read that acid rain and mercury might, umm ... that they're a
terrible threat to the loon."  Might do them in, she'd almost said, but
she didn't want to be an alarmist.  Something could be done to reverse
the threat.  Something could always be done.

"I can't imagine these woods without that sound."

"Without mahng ?" She felt his eyes on her, questioning her common
sense.  Without the loon, the North Woods would be desolate, but to
Gideon, it was more than that.

"Without the diver, we'd have no place to lay our heads," he said.

"No earth at all.  Some might doubt that, but what they will tell you is
that there is nothing to prove it.  The stories mean nothing.  They
aren't scientific." Another tremolo reverberated somewhere on the
otherwise qniell waterway ahead of them. "Doesn't that warning Call
sound like laughter to you?  Kind of wild and desperate, like,

"Look around you, brother!  Wake up and smell the rain!"

" Suddenly she could feel his breath against the back of her neck.   She
shivered, and he gave a deep, throaty chuckle.   " The rain should smell
like Raina," he said.

"Clean and sweet.  What would you do if I kissed you now?"

She closed her eyes and drew a deep, sharp breath.

"Tip the canoe."

He chucklec[ again.

"That's what I thought."

She heard him tuck his paddle in the rack. "Are we just going to drift?"
she asked, her small voice floating on the Water like the crystal notes
'from a music box.  Every sound seemed to gain volume, in contrast with
the quiet woods along the shore.  It was midsummer, and birdsong had
decreased with the season.  136 Defender "I'm going to drop a line and
catch us some lunch.  What would you like with your mercury, honey?
Bass?  A little trout, perhaps?" "Gideon!"  She racked her paddle,
stretched her legs and brushed her hands over her jeans. "Since I'm
wearing plenty of sun block all I want is fresh sunshine with my lunch."
"Sure you don't wanna order up a little purified air-conditioning, maybe
some bottled water?" "No, but I do wish I'd thought of putting on a
swimsuit under my jeans--even though I'd have to slather on the sun
block--but I was afraid of causing a stir" -- she eyed him pointedly
"--among the mosquitoes." He made a pretense of taking a look around as
he prepared his fishing gear. ~"Nothin' astir so far, except the
damselflies?" Noting that the water's edge was alive with the
black-winged creatures that looked like flying metallic green sticks,
Raina almost missed Gideon's lazy appraisal of her casual, ordinary,
hardly provocative man-tailored shirt and jeans.  His smile was both
slow and appreciative. "And me."  Gideon didn:t yet have lunch on the
stringer, but he was in no hurry until another canoe appeared,
disturbing their floating idyll.  He cursed under his breath as he
reeled in his line.  A twelve-hundred, mile maze of
waterways--interconnecting lakes and streams that the Park Service
called ca-hoe area wilderness, no motors allowed--and he had to run into
two north-country good o1' boys.  He knew damn well who they were.  The
hair standing up on the back of his neck told him that much. They
grinned and leered as they paddled closer.  Whatever these boys had been
drinking for breakfast wasn't part of Jim's supply pack. Regular clients
of Jim's should have known better.  Getting tanked on a canoe trip was a
sure way to end up floating home facedown.

Defender 137 But it wasn't any of Gideon's bus' mess

The interlopers slid off to the side, keeping their distance, but their
voices carried well enough.

"Looky here, Chuck, these Indians do know something about angling.

All this time they had us thinkin' they couldn't catch nothin' without a
spear or a net.  " Gideon watched the tip of his own rod as he reeled in
his line.  The man in the front of the other canoe pulled in his paddle,
laying it across his thighs.

"Hey, how's it going' there, Chief?  What are they bitin' on?"

"Frybread," Gideon quipped.  He set his fishing rod down and picked up
his paddle.

"No kidding?"

"Don't you recognize him, Daryl?" The question had the man in front
rubber-necking for clues while the bigger man wielded the rudder paddle,
bending the course of the intruding canoe. "He really is their chief,"
the big one called Chuck said.  "He's the one they interviewed on TV.
You know, when they talked about this settlement the politicians have
cooked up."  ' "Sorry, boys, I'm unavailable for comment." Gideon sliced
into the water with his pad die and his canoe surged forward.

"Enjoy the fishing."

"We will.  Right, Daryl?"

"Damn straight.  We always do, and we ain't gonna let rio thing change
that."

"You might wanna put your life vests on," Gideon called out.  Then he
muttered,

"Call yourselves sportsmen, you damn fools?"

"Don't worry about them, Gideon."  Raina glanced back at him as she
reached for her paddle.

 138 Defender "Force of habit.  I'll paddle," he told her.

"You just kinda casually keep an eye on those two turkeys over your
shoulder. They make any sudden moves, you hit the deck."  She did a
double take.

"Sudden moves?  Like what?"

"Like they're reaching for something."   His deft, powerful strokes had
them skimming over the water. "You never know how hot under the collar
those red necks of theks are liable to get." The watch she kept over,
her shoulder was anything but casual.  Her eyes widened. "Oh, my God." ~
"What the?"  -- He reached for her even faster than he ducked. "I told
you to" -- "It's just a cigarette."  She stayed his hand on her
shoulder.  "He took out a cigarette.  It's okay." "The idea was to get
down, not wait to find out what..."  He shook his head as he switched
his paddle from one side to the other. "Some of these guys are
fanatics," Raina, which means you don't trust them when your back is
turned.  " "Okay, I'm watching your back, and they're" -- her eyes
shifted to his face, and she gave a snappy snile "--out of sight now." -
Gideon kept paddling.  They slipped through the water, both silent for a
time.  She didn't understand, and he didn't want her to.  Bigotry didn't
scare him much, except for her sake.  He'd lived with it all his life.
Usually it was more sub-tie, It was that all-knowing stare.

-.  You're an Indian.  We expect certain things.

People used to notice when he ordered shots with a beer chaser.  Now
they noticed when he ordered pop.  Either way, he could almost hear what
they were thinking.  It wasn't so much that being noticed bothered him,
but getting stares did.  It was so damned disrespectful.

But it had generally been a subtle kind of disrespect.  Until lately.

Until the Pine Lake Band of Chippewa had pointed out that the state had
Defender 139 no jurisdiction over their treaty rights.  Since then, he'd
started to wonder whatever had happened to good, old-fashioned subtle
prejudice. No, it didn't scare him, except for her sake.  But it did
embarrass him. Taunts from two jackasses who were probably too stupid to
go on living should have meant no more to him than a little static on
the radio.  He congratulated himself for not launching himself at them
headlong.  They were bound to topple out before the day was over, and
with no help from him. But Raina had seen it.  Raina had heard what
they'd said.  It was their disgrace, not his, but it chafed a raw place
deep inside him, where a remnant of unearned shame had tied a terrible
knot in his gut.

"I don't think they'll bother us now, do you?"  Raina said finally.

"Probably not."  He eased up on his paddling.

"Likely the only shot they had in mind was verbal."

"Right."  She tucked her knees and spun on her bottom, reversing herself
on the canoe seat so that she could offer a face-to-face,
glad-we-got-past-that-one smile.

"Just a couple of pigheaded jerks, right?"

"Probably perfectly nice guys, as long as nobody mentions Indians or
fishing tights."  God, she was pretty.  Her hair, cinched down by her
billed cap, was poufed around her small ears and glistened in the sun
like a counter display of gold jewelry.  Her smile just naturally made
him want to smile. "But I'll never witness that firsthand unless I do
something about this Indian-looking face of mine."

 "Don't you dare."

"What?"

"Change" -- she leaned toward him, reaching for his smooth
check"-anything."

"You like my face the way it is?"  ~'~  "Yes."  She nodded.

"I always have."

"Oh yeah?"  In one fluid motion he slid off his seat and moved toward
her, balanced on the balls of his feet.  The canoe drifted, its balance
unaffected. "I've always liked yours, too."  Smiling, he laid his hands
on her knees as he knelt before her.

"Which is something you've always known."

He slipped between her legs, bringing the inside of her knees against
his, hips.  Thus bracketed, he took her chin in his hand.  Her lips
parted, and he covered her mouth with his.  Her head fell back, and he
deepened the kiss, making quick little stabs with his tongue.  He felt
her wind her hands into the loose front of his chambray shirt, brushing
against his flat nipples and making them pucker, as though he'd gotten a
blast of cool wind.  He lowered his own hand, tracing the arch of her
throat with his fingers as he withdrew his tongue to the corner of her
mouth, then traced the slack seam of her lips with the tip.

"I like your mouth, Raina," he whispered against it.  "Always have."

She clutched his shirt.

"If those guys were to creep up on us now, they'd probably..."

"Probably what?"  His mouth curved in a sly smile.  "String me up to a
tree?"

She gulped.

"Say things." "You've got that right.  In this neck of the woods, ~ they
would 'say things' if they thought I might be messing with the wrong
woman.  But taking a walleye with a spear might just get me shot."

"It's not that Icare what they have to say."  She closed her eyes.

"It's just that..." "Whenever I get too close, it makes you nervous." He
gave her lower lip a brief nibble.

"Did my brother make you nervous?"

Defender 141 "You move so much more..."  Pushing her fists against his
chest, she gave her head a quick shake.  He made a s'dent vow not to ask
for any more comparisons between broth She looked up at him.

"Do you always cut right to the' chase?"

"That was a kiss, honey.  Nobody's chasing anybody."  With a tip of his
head, he reminded her of their surroundings.  "You wanna run?  You'll
have to get wet first." "You'd never catch me in the water.  I'm the one
who taught Peter to swim." She braced her hands on his brawny shoulders
and taunted him with a coy smile.

"I'm beginning to wonder whether you can even catch our lunch."

"A direct challenge to a man's rod" -- he gave a naughty wink "--cannot
be ignored.  Consider yourself off the hook--for the time being."

Chapter 8.

For lunch there was paned lake trout.  The aroma, wafting beneath their
noses on wood smoke and pine-scented air, was so mouth-watering that
when Gideon flopped the first fish on Raina's plate she pounced on it
like a ravenous cat.  It took some fast tongue-juggling to keep 'from
getting burned.  Oh, but the flavor was fresh and delicate.  Even the
bit of meat she dropped in her lap was too good to waste, and Gideon
laughed when she snatched it up and popped it into her mouth.

"There's more," he offered.

"But not enough."  Seated cross-legged on a slab of granite, she held
out her plate for another serving.

"I can't member the last time I had fish this fresh."

"You should have married a fisherman." "No fisherman ever proposed."  It
was an innocent remark, and true enough, considering she'd really known
only one superlative fisherman in her life. And Gideon well knew who
that was.  She shrugged and added blithely, "I guess I Defender 143
should have become a fisherman myself, but I'd rather go along for the
ride and let someone else do the actual hooking."

"Not being much of a hooker yourself."

"I'm better at procuring."  She pulled a small fish bone from between
her lips, the urge to smile brightening her eyes. "Tm hell on wheels wit
ha shopping cart," she added finally, "but, mmm, this is really my
favorite kind of eat" Mine too.  "

"Thank you for providing fire and food."  She reached for his empty
plate.

"Mind if I thump my chest and sound the call?"  "What call?" "Mission
accomplished.  The male bragging call."  He slipped his hands beneath
his hair, heed lfis fingers together at his nape and leaned back against
the tnmk of a white birch.

"As opposed to the mating call, which is sort of a 'heads up' warning."

"Heads" -- she arched one eyebrow in disbelief "--up?" "We're
talklngabout mating calls."   His eyes were alight with the pleasure he
was taking in the natural way she played the game. "You said warning,
and you said" -- "Is it possible that behind this prim exterior lurks a
naughty mind? I'm talking about the natural world here.  I'm comparing
me, man--fire and food provider--to"-- " Me, woman.  " She shifted the
plates to her left hand and offered a handshake with the right.

"Hearth tender and food preparer.  Glad to meet you."

"You comedian," he said with a chuckle. "Me whipped.  I wish you could
paddle as well as you can joke around, you woman."  144 Defender "No
you don't.  You hardly gave me a chance to do any serious paddling."
This was turning out to be a traditional division of labor.  He'd taught
her to use sand, then water, on the plates for cleanup, which she did.
But it was his turn to sit back and relax.

She waggled a finger at him as she re-packed the camp kitchen.

"You're a one-man crew, Gid-con Defender.  A real loner." "You think
so?"  He smiled as she approached.  She stood over him, a shapely shadow
blocking only half the sun.  Still smiling, he squinted against the
glare. "I've been told that I'm a people-pleaser.  Always trying to be
somebody's champion."

"Who told you that?"

"I don't know.  Some counselor." From where he sat, she appeared to'
drop from the sky and land beside him, perching on the incline of
another slab of rock.

"What counseror?"

Her curiosity bore the seed of caring.  He could hear it in her voice.

All he had to do was water it.

"The one who helped me get off the bottle."  It had been a long time
since he'd given any thought to talking with her about it.  Suddenly he
was thinking the time might be right, if he could just keep it light.

"When was this?"

"A while back."  He wouldn't have expected her to remember dates, but
she looked as though she were hearing about his infamous bout with the
devil's brew for the first time.  And for some probably very pathetic
reason, he liked that cloud of concern in her eyes.

"You didn't know?"

"No."

"He kept your confidence, then.  He never told me."

Defender 145 "I don't know whose secret it was."  He shrugged as he
eased his spine a few inches up the tree trunk.

"It wasn't mine.  I never told him not to tell you."

"Maybe he thought you wanted it that way."

"Maybe he thought he'd have to come to the center for family week."

He glanced away from the puzzled~ look in her eyes. "Like I asked him
to.  He said he didn't want to expose you to any truth-or-dare
sessions."

"I would have gone," she assured him.

"Or not.  Whatever would have helped more." "In the end I finally
decided to help myself.  Getting treatment only started the process." He
rubbed the back of his neck and noted that she was hanging on his every
word.  His brother was dead, and here he was telling on him, when he had
no right to lay blame at anyone else's door. "Jared was right, you know.
Who knows what I would have said back then if I'd gotten the chance?"
"You can say whatever needs' saying Gideon.  I'm no china doll.  I can
always talk back."

He chuckled.

"Yeah, you've got a mouth on you, all right."

"Was that why you were living in the Cities?"

"No."  Damn you, Defender, a yes would be a whole lot simpler.

"Well, partly.  I went down there to find a better-paying job, but I
was..."

See how complicated it gets?  He jerked at an innocent blade of grass.
"It was a long time ago.  So now I'm doin' okay.  I'm doin' good,
actually. I'm trying to..." Somehow he'd try.  ~ any sound of movement,
but when he lifted his chin, she was there.  His heart tripped over the
soft light in her eyes and landed quivering at the mercy of her moist
lips touching his. Her kiss was deliciously delicate, like a touch of
morning dew, or a close encounter with  146 Defender a hummingbird's
wing, hovering for a moment, then drifting away.

He haft expected her to vanish with the blink of his star-tied eyes.

"What was that for?" "For you."  She sat back on her heels and braced
her hands on her thighs, looking at him as though he were a bowl of
flowers she'd just arranged.

"For the man you are."  "You think you know who that is?"

"I think I'm learning.  You have more patience than you used to have.
More self-control.  But you're still.  " She reached out tentatively and
plucked at his shirtsleeve. "You always had a very strong presence,
Gideon.  Very masterful.  I think Jared found it a bit intimidating."
The incredible words stacked up one right behind the other, whap whap
whap, like dominoes.  He tumbled them with a laugh.

"You've gotta be kidding."

"Jared was older, but you were stronger," she insisted.  "And I don't
mean just physically.  You were the one who took care of your mother
when she was ill.  Jared wanted to pay someone else io do it."

Gideon shrugged.  Like he'd had a choice when the woman was dying.

"She wanted to be home." "I know she did..  You're a very caring man,
Gideon Defender."  She sat down next to him, stretching her legs out
beside his.  Had she waggled her feet side to side, they would have
touched him mid calf

"And you're a born leader."

As much as he enjoyed her praise, he still had to groan at the thought
of him being a born anything.  Hell-raiser, maybe. "Sometimes I think
I'm just bluffing my way along as chairman.  To hear Arlen Skinner and
Marvin Strikes Many tell it, I got elected by default.  My critics
didn't bother to vote." Defender 147 "You've made a lot of
improvements," she pointed out, as though she'd taken inventory. He told
himself that he would have to remember how much credit this
kicking-the-habit talk could earn him.

"How important is this treaty compromise to your program?"

"The compromise would be just that.  A settlement.  We'd gain a little
land and some investment capital, a~d we'd return to some of our
traditional practices without any interference from the state," which is
what most of us want.  In return, we'd give up some of our
off-reservation treaty rights, which is what the state wants.  " He'd
told himself that he wanted to get away from this for a while, but he
found that he didn't mind sorting it out for the umpteenth time with her
as a sounding board. "It's important bemuse it might keep the peace. And
it's important for our self-respect.  Guys like those two we mn into
this morning have been calling the shots long enough.  It's a sport for
them, and that whole scene this moPaing was part of the game.  It's all
about who's in control."

"They weren't."  She sounded disgusted.

"They were to-mfly out of control, like those men at the dock the first
time you took us out on Pine Lake." "We've always fished and hunted for
the same reason we gather rice and maple sap.  For food.  Traditionally,
we fished with nets and spears.  Those are the ways we were given to
feed ourselves, and we value those ways.  The reservations haven't
changed that.  The casinos haven't changed it, either." HIS gesture
dismissed both would-be agents of change. "The reservations took away
most of the land.  The casinos bring in money. Big deal."

"Losing the land was no big deal?"

"We never owned it.  We used it.  And the treaty says we can still use
it. We are who we are because of what Arlen  148 Defender called our
Indian ways."  He looked to her for acknowledgment. "Remember?  He told
Peter he would need his Indian ways.  Not just fishing or smoking the
pipe" but the way things are done.  And the way we use what we've been
given.

Does that make sense to you?  "

"Yes.  So far." He couldn't blame her for reserving judgment.  The jury
was still out on how all this might affect her and Peter.

But he wanted her to understand that there was a lot to consider.

"The only thing that changes is that sometimes people forget.  You
forget who you are, you start thinkin' you're nobody."  He searched her
eyes for some sign that she could imagine what it was like.  I'm talking
about myself now, Raina.  I'm talking about rays.  elf at twelve, and
I'm talking about Peter at thirty-eight.

"Sometimes you lose sight of what's important.  Then you lose your way."

"I can't imagine you losing your way."  She laid her small hand on his
thigh.

Incredibly, it weighed heavily on him.

She.  smiled.

"I'll bet you know exactly where we are right now."

"You will, huh?"  Relieved by the sudden switch'in tone, he hob bed his
chin, challengingly.

"How much?"

"I'm betting on you

"I know."  He arched an eyebrow.

"How much?" "If you looked at a map, you would know exactly where we are
right now.  You could put your finger right on the exact spot."  He
raised both eyebrows. She lowered hers.  "Couldn't you?"

He laughed.

"Why do you think I told Jim to forget the map?  Wouldn't do me a damn
bit of good."

"Are we lost?"

Grinning, he tapped a fist on her knee. "We're on our way to Hidden
Falls, which is not on the map."  He gave her a flirty wink.

"I know the way there, and I know the way back."  ,.

"That's a relief." "I haven't guided anyone astray up here yet."  He
nudged her shoulder with his.  "" Course, there's always a first time. "

"Oh, look!"  She pointed to the lake.

"Another loon."  Her finger became an airbrush, tracing the big bird's
graceful progress in the water. Gideon watched, too.  See the white
necklace?  The stray shells scattered across his back?  "

"You really have a necklace like that?"

Sure do," he said proudly

She studied him briefly, then shook her head.

"Nab, you're not gonna get us lost.  Not even as a joke.  It would be
too embarrassing for you."

He smiled mischievously.

"But leading us astray is an altogether different matter." Not a trace
of their visit was left on the shore when Raina climbed into the canoe.
Gideon lifted the bow, gave it a push and hopped aboard without even
getting his feet wet.  ~ They paddled close to the shore, carried the
canoe across a portage, then slipped into a rapid stream.  The current
eddied, and paddling was mostly a matter of controlling the canoe's
direction.  Gideon handled the craft so skillfully that all Raina had to
do was enjoy the swift ride. Another portage took them back into glassy
Water.  Reflections of the pines stretched across the lake like long
fingers.  A beaver's cruising head blazed a trail through the lily pads
close to shore, slipping through the water with gently rippling wake.
They followed a stream that grew so narrow, it seemed to hold no promise
as a passage.  But the next portage enabled  150 Defender them to
bypass the stream's bottleneck, which was, in fact, the hidden falls
he'd promised her. The water tumbled over a six-foot drop, splashing
into a clear-water cove surrounded by massive red and white pine.  The
pine scent, the soothing sound of falling water, the choir of crickets,
the occasional call of a loon blended into a lovely island of serenity.
Gideon set the canoe down near the water's edge.  Most of the portage
work had been his.  Those brawny shoulders had been shaped in part by
years of carrying a canoe over his head, and his height allowed few
paddling partners to measure up to the task of assisting.  He flexed his
shoulders as he surveyed the spot he'd cherished in recent years only as
a memory.  Maybe his mind had improved on it a little.  "Not much of a
falls, huh?" "I wasn't expecting Niagara?"  Raina released the straps on
the pack she'd been toting and lowered it to the ground.  "It's a
beautiful spot." "I don't know whether Jim routes people this way now,
but he didn't use to. Neither did I."  He stretched, then used his
fingers to iron the kinks out of his back.

"We wanted it to stay like this."

"I'm the first?" "Paddlers probably stumble on it once in a while.  ~
haven't been here since..."  He considered for a moment. "I don't know
when.  And you're the first person I've brought here."  t "Can you
believe it?  A truly natural place."  She lifted her arms, spun like a
pinwheel, then faced him, exhilarated as she walked backward toward the
water's edge. "It was like this a hundred years ago, and two hundred
years ago, and back, back, back .... " "Whoa."  His arm shot out, and he
grabbed her hand. "You're about to back into the ice age."

Defender 151 "It's not that cold, is it?"

"Right now the water's about as warm as it ever gets." "Can we go
swimming?"   Her face lit up, giving him a rare peek at the little girl
in her.   She lifted his hand toward the sky and danced under their
arms, then ducked back and turned, drawing his arm around her waist as
she backed up to him.

"Do-si-do your parmer," she sang merrily.

"Can we have a campfire?"

"I can make it feel like we have a campfire."

She flashed a twinkling smile over her shoulder. "Hmm, " I mean with a
camp stove, which isn't as intrusive on the.  " She looked a little
disappointed, like a kid poised for .a race and getting no takers.
"Forget the memories, Raina."  Close to her ear, his voice dropped for
another husky imitation of his favorite Eastwood line.  "" I ain't like
that no more.  "" "Not at all?" She turned slowly, and their eyes were
suddenly locked in a heated stare.  He wasn't going to chase her.  He'd
made that mistake before. He could run her down easy.  He could give her
ahead start and still beat her, hands down, but he would end up losing.
He tucked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans and shrugged; "We
can go swimming if you want.  Like I said, the water's as warm right now
as it ever gets, but I guarantee you won't last long."

 "How about you?"

A smile tickled the corner of his mouth.

"I can outlast you."

"You sure about that?"

"Try me."

She stared at him for a moment, as though she were trying to decide just
how she might interpret his challenge to  152 Defender her advantage.
Her sigh sounded like a concession to his staying power.

"But no campfire?"

"I'll build you a fire."  He looked into her eyes and touched the
yellow-gold hair that swept her shoulder.  ~"What else do you want?"

"I want to be exhausted."  She closed her eyes.

"I want to be able to sleep." Gideon wasn't interested in doing any
fishing once Raina had made her wishes crystal clear.  Supper consisted
of the meal packs supplied by the outfitter. "Over campfire coffee they
watched the scatting sun spill a purple wash across a tall cloud's lumpy
belly.  Above their heads a spray of pine neo-dies made a dark etching
against the salmon-pink sky. He set up the yellow igloo-shaped tent,
tossed the sleeping bags inside, then stripped down to his black briefs.
Rains took the hint, again wishing she'd thought to wear a swimsuit
Under her clothes.  But'her underwear would serve.  Her bra and panties
always matched, and ndther was ever skimpy.  By the time she had folded
the rest of her clothes and set them on a rock, he was aires.

dy in the water.  Which was cold.  Smooth and clear as glass, but cold.

She waded in, carefully negotiating the slick, round rocks as she
splashed a handful of cold water over the back of her neck to, as her
mother had always said, acclimate her "cold re~-ptors:' She was almost
ready to submerge gracefully when a soggy mop of black hair sprang from
the water, laughing like a distressed loon.  The monster clamped cold
hands on her warm arms and dragged her, yelping and flailing like a dog
on an ice slick, into the depths. Once the monstrous laughing and
distressed shrieking toned down, they bobbed like two corks,
face-to-face, china skimming the water, circling each other, taunting
and giggling like children.  Below the surface they were locked
together, hands to elbows, hands to waist, now drifting at Defender
arm,~length, now easing closer, knee sliding against thi thigh against
hip.

"Told you it was cold."

"You said it was as warm as it gets."

He pushed his hair back.  She did the same.  He grinned.

"Told you it was cold."

Her teeth chattered.

"I'm not cold."

"Is that purple lipstick you're wearing?"

Eyes, charcoal brown and crystal blue, glistened in half-light of
evening. Lips drew back in tight, water pr smiles.

"You know what?"

"What?" "I learned this at a cosmetics demonstration once.  ways
remember--warm water plumps, cold water Sh: els."

 "

" Shrivels what?    "

"You're tellin' me."

"On the other hand, some movie stars soak theirs in water every day."

"Their what?"

"I--1mm."  He shot a mouthful of water at her.

"You d~ play fair.  You know that, don-'t you?"

"It can become a permanent condition."

"What?"

She shot water back at him.

"Shrivelmeat."

"At least it won't show."

 " HIS return volley hit its me " Like those purple lips,"

They splashed around until it was almost dark, but in end the shivering
got to her first, and she waded~ ash Gideon used his hands to sluice the
water off his arms legs as he hurried to retrieve his T-shirt, jeans and
tim shirt. Rains huddled next to the dying campfire, driPt  154
Defender and poking at the embers with a stick.  He helped her efforts
along by adding a few pine cones which went up like Roman candles,
torching the log he threw on for good "Don't stand too close to the
fire."  He robbed her briskly with his T-shirt. "I outlasted you, didn't
i?"  She gave him a tight-lipped stare, but he persisted.

"Didn't I?"

Shivering, she nodded.

"It k-kind of felt okay until we g-got out."

"Here, put thi.~ on." " He handed her his flannel shirt, which looked
voluminous hanging from her small hand. She slipped it on, buttoned it,
then executed the bra-removal-under-the-shirt trick, right before his
very eyes. "Slick," he said, his voice replete with genuine admiration.
He tossed a loosely folded sleeping bag on the ground close to the fire
and, with a gracious gesture, offered her a seat.  Then he stepped away
from the firelight, He kept his back to her while he peeled off the wet
briefs. Raina was soon mesmerized by the play of shadows over his
perfectly taut buttocks.  She was fascinated by the smooth, easy way he
stepped into his jeans, pulled them up 'powerful legs and set fled them
at the base of his long, tapered back.  He zipped them as he returned to
the fire.

And he caught the look in her eye, just before she glanced away.

She could hear the smile in his voice.

"You didn't peek, did you?"

She lifted her hair off the back oLher neck and gave her he ada little
shake.

"I didn't mean to."

"Right."  He chuckled, thoroughly gratified.

"I don't have your finesse at stripping off wet underwear."

"You don't need it.  Doing what comes naturally is easy for you."  She
used her fingers as a comb. "For me, there are so many ifs, ands and
buts.  They're all in my head, I know.

Defender 155 But"-- She smiled wistfully.

"See, there it is.  That pesky old 'but." " " The hell, you say.   " He
sat beside her, cross-legged on the sleeping bag, and extended his hands
toward the fire. "You knew there would only be one tent.  Which means
we're going to sleep close to each other, unless you want to kick me
outside in the cold."

"Oh, no, of course not.  We're roughing it."

"You know what?"  He turned to her and plunged his fingers into.  her
hair, lifting it toward the heat of the fire.  "All roughing it aside, I
could make love to you so easy.  If I started kissing you and touching
you, it would come naturally.  And I could make you forget all the ifs,
ands and pesky buts."  He looked into her eyes and smiled confidently.

"But I won't."

"You won't?"

"No."  He scooted closer, his knees touching hers as he ruffled her
hair.

"I've thought about it, and llve decided not " Really.  " She stared,
partly amused, partly incredulous.  " Just like that, you've decided""
Not to.  " He watched her hair slide through his fingers, smiling
complacenfiy as though he had given it some style.  " There, now, isn't
that a relief?  You can just put it out of your head.  "

"It wasn't in my head.  It was in your head."

"Well" -- his bare shoulders rolled in a shrug "--now it's not.  Are you
exhausted yet?"

"Exhausted?"

"We could take a run through the woods, and you could pretend I'm
chasing you." "C, id eon Her quick laugh betrayed barely curbed
anticipation warring with inbred hesitancy.  She laid a finger against
his chin.

"You're teasing me, aren't you?"

 156 Defender "It's up to you to figure that out."  He tucked his chin
and caught her finger with his lips for an impetuous nibble, grazing the
tip with his teeth.  He smiled, satisfied.

"While I'm trying to figure out whether you're teasing me."

 "I'm not sure I like this game." "I'm not sure I do, either, but we
seem to be playing it."  With a forefinger he traced' the arrow hag
neckline of his shirt until he hit the buttoned juncture in the' shallow
valley be-twcen her breasts. "How 'bout if we just sit by this fire you
wanted me to build for you and swap hungry looks?"

 "You're being difficult."

HIS deep chuckle sounded ominous with the darkness so close about them.

"It comes naturally."

She mirrored his move, tracing the thong he wore around his neck until
her finger reached the small leather pouch that hung to the middle of
his chest.

"What's this?"

"Just a..."  He glanced down, as if he'd forgotten.

"It's my medicine bundle."

"Is the contents a secret?"

"The contents is personal."  He slid his hand over hers as he raised his
brow.

"Can I ask a favor?  How good are you at massaging away an awful ache?"
He ignored her wide-eyed double-take. "Do you know how long it's been
s'nice I did this much paddling?  If you plan to go back the way you
came, you need to give your workhorse a good rubdown." "Oh.  Oh,
certainly.  Why didn't I think of that?"  She scooted around behind him
and started.  thumping his shoulders with tension-busting karate chops.
"Actually, I'm quite good at this.  I took a course.  Would you rather
lie down?" "I think it's better if I stay semi vertical His chin dropped
to his chest. He closed his eyes and briskly ruffled his own wet hair.

"If I fall asleep, there's no tellln' what I might miss out on."

Defender 157 "Try to relax, then, and give me the high sign when I hit
on something that needs extra attention."

"The high sign it is," he said with a chuckle.

Her hands were more skilled than he'd anticipated.  Her ministrations
lulled him into total witlessness, and the sounds he made as the tension
'drained out of his neck, his shoulders, then his back, were
unintelligible groans of pleasure.  When she was done, she let him drift
euphorically,.  his. forehead pillowed on his knees.  After a while he
turned his head to the side and watched the mesmerizing dance of the
remaining gold flames, listening to the pine wood crackle and the
crickets chirp. A sudden, long, drawn-out canine call brought his head
up slowly.  Even in the North Woods, this was a rare treat.  "Coyote?"

she asked.

He inclined his head toward the sound, then shook it only slightly.
"Timber wolf.  Listen."  The lone howl started low and rose slowly,
stretching skyward.  Then others joined in, and the distant darkness
came alive with the woeful chorus. "Are they far away?"  she whispered,
peering into the blackness beyond the orange flames.

"Can't tell."  He bounced a playful fist against her flannel-covered
thigh.

"What, do you think I'm a bat?"

"No, but..."  The wolf song filled the night.

"There must be dozens of them." "Half a dozen, tops.  No two hitting the
same note."  He listened for a moment, letting the performers
demonstrate.  "See?  If they do, one changes to a different pitch, so
they sound like a huge pack." "But they do sort of harmonize."  She let
the sound have its way with her body, and her shoulders did the
hoochie-coo chic "It sends shivers up my spine."  158 Defender "Damn. I
wanted to do that."  His hands claimed her shoulders, and he turned her
away from him. "Let me give it a try.  You did a little paddling.  I'll
give you a little massage."  ' "I guess I am a little~ sore

He leaned close to her car and whispered,

"You were great, by the way." "Really?"  She rolled her head from side
to side in response to the muscle-kneading he was doing at the base of
her neck.

"It was good for me, too."

They hardly spoke as they arranged their sleeping bags side by side in
the little tent.  The slow, easy way they'd approached each other in the
warm glow of the fire had been good and right, and now she wondered when
and how he would make his move.  For, of course, it was his move.  He'd
planned it. She hadn't.  It would take her almost by surprise, and she
would find it impossible to resist. The sound of a zipper brought her
head up quickly.  He was opening the rain flaps, admitting the moonlight
through the tent's mesh screens.

"Too much air?"  he wondered.

"Oh,no," she said quickly.  i "Your hair's dry, isn't it?"

She nodded.

He undid another zipper. "I get claustrophobic in these.  things.  I
hate it when it rains and you have to close them " Me too.  " Actually,
she'd never given it a thought. He went to his bed.  She slipped her
legs into hers.  He turned to her, slid his fingers into her hair and
touched his forehead to hers.

"Nice and dry," he muttered.

"Still warm from the fire."

She returned the gesture.

"Yours, too."  Warm, long, thick and wonderful, she thought.

Defender 159 "You've got

"Sounds of Nature' all around you tonight."  He turned his head
slightly, rubbing the high part of his check up and down, over her
temple, her eyelid, her check.  He drew a deep breath, full of her
scent.

"Live, not recorded."

"You'll sleep like a baby," he promised, his voice deliciously husky.

"Good night, Raina."

Unreasonably miffed, baffled by her own disappointment, she followed her
sinking heart into the pocket of her bed, tossing him a whispered "Good
night?"  She closed her eyes and listened to the night sounds. They were
better than a tape, of course.  The crickets, the owl, the loon, all
blended their clear, soft calls, bidding her to rest.  She felt
peaceful. The intimate sound of Gideon's slow, shallow breathing made
her feel safe. And warm.  And more.  Waiting for sleep, she
inadvertenfiy kept it at bay. Gideon lay on top of his sleeping bag,
slumbering blissfully.  Then something in his dreams must have disturbed
him, for he groaned and flung one arm above his head, nestling his face
in thee rook of his elbow.  His hair looked longer now.  It spilled away
from his face and neck like a pool of black ink. Moonlight skated over
the contours of his muscular chest and puddled in the shallow saucer of
his belly.

His jeans rode low on his hips, the waistband slack, the snap undone.

Raina dosed her eyes.  She could almost feel his warm, satiny skin
agaln.  qt her palms again.  She flexed her fingers and ~ the firm
flesh, the hard muscle.  So close.  Close enough to hear the change in
the tempo of his breathing.  He groaned again, almost painfully.  What
was he dreaming about? she wondered.  Or whom?  She imagined him calling
to her, saying her name in his sleep.  It was a fanciful no 160
Defender ' t ion, of course, but it excited her.  Almost as much as the
bulge that had risen beneath the fly of his jeans. Dear Gideon, in sleep
your body betrays you.  Your "high sign" refuses to lie dormant~ Her
thighs tingled.  A wicked u~ge sprouted deep within her and grew
undeniably strong.  Lying on her side, she scooted closer, braced
herself on her elbow and slid her hand over his belly.  It felt
wonderfully hard and warm.  Pleasure, she thought.  It pleasured her
simply to touch him: and it was a pleasure she longed to share. ~
Perhaps her touch alone would bring more pleasure to his secret dream.
She found herself coveting his secrets, determined to become part of
them, to insinuate herself into his dream.  The contents of the pouch
that lay against his chest was personal.  The contents 'of the pouch in
his jeans was personal, too.  But while he slept, it revealed itself to
her, beckoning, eritreating.  She told herself that she might do him
another service.  She might relieve this intensely personal tension, as
she had relieved his other tension earlier.

Ah, he' looked so beautiful, stretched out so that he filled the tent.

Even in repose his body teemed with dangerous, alluring potential. Her
hand stirred, her fingertips inched toward the uusnapped tab, searching
first for the dimple in his belly.  Her thumb found it, followed the
rim, filled the depression, then move don The Zipper gave way, a
fraction of a fraction of an inch.  Somehow his belly dipped away even
farther, giving her hand more room to explore.  What she sought was easy
to find.  The slick tip, the hard ridge, the oddly enticing thickness
that filled her hand. He held his breath for fear of scaring her away.
He could understand the plight of a woman two years a widow, but did
she, he wondered, understand his?  In dreams she had touched him, but
never, in his most compelling fantasy, had he been gloved this in her
small hand.  He felt the Defender 161 light touch of her lips on his
shoulder, and then her hand slid away. His whole body followed its
retreat, turning to her, reaching for her, pulling her into his arms.
Her eyes were filled with moonlight and awkward surprise.  His eyes
demanded an explanation.  Not why she'd touched him--he wasn't one to
question such bittersweet serendipity--but why she'd stopped. "You
looked so ... so beautiful.  I..."  Her breathy excuse got caught in her
throat. "Me?"  He would indulge himself no further than a smile. "You've
gone without too long."

"It's not that.  It's..."  It's you.

He didn't need to know what it was.  Didn't even want to know.  It was
bound to make everything more complicated when he was doing his damned
eat to kelp from jumping the gun with her.  But those eyes, those big
blue eyes, were brimming with complications. His hand skimmed the length
of his flannel shirt, following the S-curve that filled it out.  At the
end of the road, her thigh emerged.  He gripped it and drew it toward
him.

"Just tell me what you need, Raina."

' Gideon .  "

"Gideon?"  He nuzzled her neck and whispered into its hollows,

"Gideon's what?"

"Gideon's everythi~ng."

With a throaty chuckle, he cradled her in onearmwhile his free hand
slipped the shirt buttons loose, his moist lips marking her skin at each
interval.

"What would you do with

"Gideon's everything'?"  he muttered when he reached her belly. "I
would... I would .... " "Toy with it?"  Reversing his dLrection, he
nibbled a path to the soft underside of her breast, where be nuzzled and
 162 Defender noso-butted, like a calf coaxing its mother to let the
milk down.

"The way you started to a minute ago?"

She started to reach for him again, but he stopped her and tucked her
arm behind her back.  His supporting arm lurked beneath her, and his
hand was a ready clamp, putting her seeking hand out of action. Another
time, he told him.  ~eif as he lowered his mouth over her thrusting
breast.  He ~cked his tongue over her erect nipple, then nibbled and
suckled until she moaned, almost, but not quite, pitiably. He slid his
hand over her hip, rotating it away from him as he moved down the
outside, then up the inside of her thigh.  Her legs clamped together ius
'tmctively, despite her erratic breathing, despite her needy groan.
"Open your legs for me, sweetheart."  He closed his eyes and rubbed his
face in the vale between her breasts, tasting her salty-sweetness with
the tip of his tongue.

"Let me give you what you need."

"No, let me," she pleaded.

"Let me show you... what I started to... what you want me to..."

"No, let me."  His fingertips armwedinto the juncture he sought, gaining
access, fingers spreading, prying reluctant thighs apart.  He drew
dizzying circles around her nipple with the tip of his.  nose,
distracting her from the two fin-gets he slipped between moist folds.

"Relax and let me he your baby," he whispered.

He suckled, 'and he stroked deeper, ever deeper.  His tongue ~cked, and
his thumb did likewise, tuning her, then playing sweet, excruciatingly
sweet notes.  High nol~s.  High, higher notes until there was only one
note left, and she hit it like a bottle rocket. Morning came ve'ded in
blue-gray mist.  Gideon had coffee ready.  They sat side by side on a
fallen log, scorching one another with stolen Dances, scalding one
another with every Defender 163 accidentally-on-purpose touch. Each had
tried to relieve tension for the other.  Both wondered why it was still
there, thicker and heavier than ever. "We should get a move on'.  This
is the best time to be out on the waler." Gideon heaved him.  nell off
the rustic sofa.  He nodded toward the bright green head of a mallard
gliding through the mist.

"Everybody's out feeding."

Raina sighed as she followed his lead.

"I hate to leave this place now."

"It wasn't easy to get you to come here."  They looked at each other.
She gave the first shy am' fie He shook his head, then permitted hin~Af
to laugh.

"I never know what toex-pect with you, Raina."

She walked away, dragging her feet against the grass.

"It's just that it's so beautiful here."

She had called him beautiful, too.  He remembered it clearly.  He
wondered if she'd meant it.  Any of it.

"You roused the sleeping dragon, Raina."

"I know." "Did it help?"  She stood still, her back to him.  Gently, he
rephrased the question.

"Did you sleep better?"  "Did you?"

Questions, questions, questions.  Why couldn't she just answer him? Tell
him yes.  Just say, Yes, Gideon, you gave me what I wanted.  Thank you
very much. No, he had not slept better, partly because he didn't know
where to go from here.  He snatched his white T-shirt off the rock where
he'd left it and pulled it over his head.  It was damp and cold, and
wearing it made him feel both good and mi~rable.

"It's beautiful out there, too," he told her gruffly.

"We'll have our breakfast on the water." He strapped the main camp pack
to his back, hoisted the red canoe above his head and took the portage
with deter 164 Defender mined stride.  Ralna followed in contemplative
silence.  Once they were out on the water, there was a certain freedom
of motion that pulled their focus from each other, releasing mental
suction in a way that produced an almost audible pop. They sliplxxl past
a female moose feeding in the shallows.  She lifted her shovel nose out
of the water, grinding her dripping breakfast with powerful jaws as her
eyes followed them with minimal interest. They both laughed when she
shook her head, nois'dy flapping her big cars. Indifferent and
absolutely un threatened she swung her head away, then dunked her nose
for more juicy grazing. As the morning wore on, low clouds kept the sun
from burning the mi.  qt off the water.  The fishing would have been
great, Gideon thought.  But he wasn't in the right mood. "I think we're
in for some rain," he said absenfiy as his pad-die sliced the water.
Slip-slide, slip-slide, slip-slide.

llaina looked straight up.

"It's not supposed to do that."  But an errant raindrop hit her nose.
More drops pattered softly, scattering circles across the water in the
pattern of a wedding-band quilt.

"Well, it's doing it anyway," Gideon said.

By the time they put in to shore it was coming down steadily.  Thunder
started rumbling as they set up the tent.  Birch leaves rattled in the
wind, and the water dripped from the pines, intensifying the evergreen
scent.  They tossed the packs into the tent and scrambled in after t~.
"You're soaking wet."  It was the only thing Gideon could think of to
say. At least the stuff inside the packs was dry.  Hc took out the two
requisite towels, which, laid end-to-end, didn't add up to half a bath
towel. But at the prospect of spending a rainy afternoon inside the
tent, he had it in his mind to be gallant.  He tossed her a towel, which
she used on her hair, while he did the same. Defender 165 Then t~ir eyes
met.  She looked incredibly sexy with tousled hair and wet clothes.

He tried to clear the gravel from his throat.

"Let me help you get dry' It was an offer that entailed removing
clothes. All it took was. their shirts--skinning the cat with his, then
peeling hers away with a bit more care and a thoughtful smoothing back
of her hair after the shirt came away--and he was lost.  He had the
towel in his hand again, and he meant to use it, but his good intentions
turned to mush at the mere sight of a drop of water on the swell of her
breast.  He dipped his head to claim it with his tongue. The taste was
pure ambrosia.  He glanced up and saw the quick approval in her eyes. He
unhooked the fastener he-twcen her breasts and stripped the wet fabric
away. "So pretty," he murmured, but in daylight her pale breasts seemed
to want covering.  So he cupped them in his dark hands.

The thunder grumbled overhead.  The rain pelted all around them.

Gideon lifted his gaze slowly from the place between her breasts where
his thumbs lay side by side, to the little hollow at the base of her
throat where her pulse throbbed, to her lower lip as she quickly suclaxl
it and left it moist for him. The motion drew him like a hawk descending
for prey.  His lips claimed hers. His tongue darted in search of hers,
and hers met him at the door.  His hands slid to her waist and made
short work of the fastenings 'on her pants. "Would you say we're going
to need a bed?"

She nodded.

His eyes never left hers as he reached for a sleeping bag, dragged it
close, undid the bands and flipped it open, all with one hand.  In
another moment her wet clothes were gone.  His were chafing him
something fierce.  Helowcred  166 Defender her to the pallet and went
hungering after her, pulling her hand down between the legs of his soggy
jeans.  He closed his eyes and caught his breath when she flexed her
fingers, pressing, stroking.

He groaned.

"It would be a damn shame if Gideon's evel~thing caught a chill." Her
small laugh was sensuously deep.  She helped him peel off the wet jeans.
Then, in the gray light of a rainy afternoon, they admired one another
with unabashed eyes and unrestrained hands, with openmouthed kisses and
bold tongues.  Dampness turned steamy as they.  rubbed skin against
skin, driving one another to the brink again and again, just to see how
close they could come.  But close would not suffice this time. "Tell me
what you want," he exhorted gruffly as he rose above her, poised for a
swift strike.

"This is what I want," she whispered, caressing him between his legs.

"All of this inside me."

He prepared himself.  All for her, he thought, properly gift-wrapped.

But someday, maybe.  On that hope, he slipped him~lf inside her with
long, strong, deep strokes.  She gaud and cried out his name.  He backed
off only slightly as he slid his hands beneath her bottom.  She locked
her legs around his waist.  His hips took the lead, tagging their tempo
to the steady tapping of the rain, which picked up gradually until the
heavens finally broke wide open and the deluge washed over them. They
dozed in each other's arms, reveling in timeless, weighfiess peace.  The
easy time.  The afterglow.  The distant thunder was a sooting sound, as
was the soft rain.  They drifted, awash in unspoken love words. But the
drifting eventually stopped, and the words slipped away, still unspoken.
They were two separate entities again. Defender 167 And they found
themselves purposely~ not looking at each other for fear of detecting
something in a look--some kind of disappointment, some sign of
rejection--that would make them f~ chillingly naked. if it had to be
left alone.

"This complicalea things, doesn't it?"

"How so?"  Damn, he had to ask.  And then he couldn't help dipping the
damn question in cold brass.

"What do you want to make of it, Rain aT " Nothing," she said tightly.

Nothing at all?  Have it your way, then.

"It's as simple or as complicated as you want it to be."

"What about you?"

He stared at the curve of the tent roof.

"I'm flexible."  Really.  "

She covered herself with a comer of the sleeping bag.

"Then I certainly appreciate the use of the condom."

"There's no other way these days, right?"

"Right?"  She turned her face toward the wall.  Her throat felt
scratchy, lined with sand. "Funny.  I got used to thinking none of that
pertained to me, but now..." She swallowed hard against the encroachment
of awful heartache.  "Now I guess it does." "I guess so."  He jammed his
hands beneath his head and stared hard at the nylon ceiling.

"Some women buy their own now.  Dutch treat."

She shut her eyes tightly.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Chapter 9 There was a part of Gideon's brain that was fully aware of
the fact that sex was one of life's great wild cards.  It was the great
complicater.  The gate to heaven, the road to hell.  He didn't know how
many times he had to prove that to the other part of his brain.  One
look at the woman sitting as far away from him as the pickup's bench
seat would allow should have been all the proof necessary.  If you
wanted to get somewhere with a woman, leave sex out of it, at least
until the trapdoor to hell was safely frozen over.

Things had changed between Raina and him, and the reason was clear.

Raina had broken her own rules. He'd never been quite sure what the
rules were.  He'd learned one or two hard lessons during his tougher
years, and he'd taken those into account. Otherwise, he thought he'd
read all the signals right.  But, damn, for a while there she'd turned
into a wounded bird.  After the rain, they'd paddled back to Jim's
place, with her in retreat and him walking on eggs.  Her conversation
had been soft and Defender 169 thready.  She'd admired every bird, every
bee, every bend in the waterway, like someone taking her last look at
the world.  When they got back to Pine Lake he half expected her to ask
him to drop her off at a convent, or maybe a tomb, where she was ready
to inscribe the epitaph herself: Gideon Defender loved me to death.

But she'd mended her own wings by the time they'd reached his house.

The melancholy clouds.  disappeared from her eyes, replaced by distant,
clear-day blue.  Distant was the key word.  Things had definitely
changed.

Most women were hard to figure, but this one was a doozy.

When they pulled up to the house, Gideon was surprised to find his
driveway blocked by a Jeep bearing the official seal of the Pine Lake
Chip~a Band. This must have been a piece.  of the plan he'd forgotten.
"Wonder what Carl's doing here."  He said it casually, but Raina's eyes
turned anxious. "He's not a cop," Gideon hastened to assure her as he
set the pickup's parking brake.  "He's one of our game wardens. He gets
out to the Skinner place.  pretty often, so I asked him to kinda
discreetly make sure things were going okay with Peter.  "

She flung the pickup door open.

"I knew it was a mistake to leave him with" -- "Hold on now."  Gideon
hurried up the driveway to catch up with her.

"Let's not jump to any conclusions.  Peter must be here, too.

Otherwise Carl couldn't have gotten in the house.  " They walked in on
what appeared to be nothing more than a friendly card game, with Peter
hosting his grandfather and Carl Earlie at the kitchen table.  All three
looked up when Gideon and Raina came in, but the greetings were
ominously guarded.  170 Defender "We figured we'd save you a trip out
to Arlen's," Carl explained as he threw in his poker hand.

"I'm gonna give Arlen a ride home."

Peter looked at his watch. "It's Sunday night.  You said you'd be back
Sunday afternoon.  These guys have been waiting here for two hours for
you to get back." "We got caught in the rain."  Gideon turned a chair
away from the table and straddled it, bracing his forearms on the
backrest.  This was a switch.  A kid watching the time on his parents.
Parent.  Parent and guardian.  Whatever.  The damn complications came in
battalions. "Did you wear your grandfather out?"  Raina asked as she
stepped close behind her son's chair.

He looked up at her and shrugged.

"We did a lot of stuff.  Spent a lot of time at the powwow.  I learned
how to do a dance." The chin jerk he made toward his grandfather was a
new mannerism for Peter. It seemed perfectly natural to everyone in the
room but Raina, who knew him better ~han he knew himself and noticed
every change in him lately with a mother's mixed feelings.  He was
growing up.  He was forging new connections. He was slipping away. "What
was that dance, ni~r(t~hoomis?"  ~ Peter asked.  "Traditional grass
dance."  Arlen shared his nod of approval with Peter, then Gideon.

"He did pretty good.  We started making him a bustle."

"And the other thing I'm supposed to tell you is that I" -- Peter cast a
quick glance Carl's way, checking to see whether the man had changed his
mind about the requirement.  Clearly he hadn't.

"Well, Tom and Oscar and me went out kinda late, and we had a couple
beers."

Raina's response was automatic.

"Oh, Peter, you d/dn't."

Defender 171 "No big deal," Peter complained.

"Nobody got drunk or anything."

"I was in bed sleepin'," Arlen reported. "I told him not to be sneakin'
out.  He didn't listen.  Looks like he wants to learn some things the
hard way." "This isn't going to work, Peter."  Raina laid her hands on
Peter's wiry shoulders, while he hung his head, staring at the five
cards he would never play.

Carl shoved his chair back from the table and rose to his feet.

"Listen, I'm gonna get out of the way here and take Arlen on back."

He turned to Gideon.

"The other thing Rosie said to tell you that Judge Half wants to see
everybody over at the court tomorrow afternoon."

The news hit Raina llke a wrecking ball.

"That hardly gives me time to get hold of my attorney."  She wanted it
over, but she wasn't ready.  She noticed the ace in Peter's hand, and
she wondered where hers was.  She had no cards to play, in fact. Nothing
but a mother's commitment to her child.

Gideon spoke quietly; avoiding her eyes.

"All he'll be able to do is advise you, Raina."

"You mean I won't be represented?"

"You'll be heard," he said impatiently, as though she were speaking out
of turn and in front of the wrong people.

But a rising sense of desperation kept her going.

"I don't like the way that sounds." "Call your attorney."  His curt
gesture smacked of resentment,~ even though his tone was utterly
controlled.  "You're right.  You should have an expert around to advise
you." "There's something else," Carl announced officiously.  He
straightened his uniform, tucking his shirt into the back of his pants.
"Arlen here says there's been some kind of se 1 72 Defender cret
meetings going on between the Strikes Manys and some of them big-shot
sportsmen. ~They're all hot against the set-fiement, so they're tall
ring about finding ways to defeat it so the treaty ends up in court."
"Where the sportsmen are betting we'll lose, and the Strikes Manys are
betting we'll win.  Makes for a strange alliance, doesn't it?"

Gideon shook his head.

"Why are you telling us this, Arlen?  I thought you didn't approve of
the settlement." "I don't.  But the Strikes Manys are fooling themselves
real bad, talking with those guys about working together.  We picked our
leaders, even though some of us never voted for certain ones."  He gave
Gideon the loaded eye.

"But they're who we've got, and they're Indians, at least."

"Those damn rednecks just wanna use the Strikes Manys to make it look
like they're not against Indians," Carl said.  With a sardonic chuckle,
he added, "Hell, they love Indian.q.  Some of their very favorite people
are Indian,q. Like those guys who play for Cleveland and Atlanta." The
tension eased with the three men sharing in the bitter humor over one of
their least favorite institufionalized in-suits to Indians. "Dealing
with those guys is gonna mean trouble for all of us.  You need to read
up on Red Cloud and Spotted Tail," Arlen told Gideon in passing as he
angled toward the door.

"What for?"  Gideon challenged kiddingly as he saw the guests out.

"They were ornery Sioux." "They were Indians.  And they spent a lot of
years trying to compromi~ with the white government."  Arlen summed up
his parting bit of wisdom with a solemn nod.

"Some things change, some things don't."

After Arlen had left with Carl, Gideon figured it was time for a serious
family-type powwow--the kind he'd rarely experienced, up until this
summer. Raina and Peter were the Defender 173 ones who knew the ropes
with this family business, but she was on edge, and he was sulking. "How
about some sandwiches?"  Gideon suggested when he joined them in the
kitchen; "Not hungry," Peter mumbled, awaiting the inevitable cave-in
with studied apathy. "No, thank you."  His mother folded her arms
tightly under her bosom, her pre storm stance equally well rehearsed.
"All right, then, let's all" -- Gideon glanced back and forth between
them "--have a seat."

"Let's just get it over with," Peter suggested.

Gideon shook his head. "I don't know about your more, but I'm not gonna
lay into you over this sneaking out, Peter.  Things are a little up in
the air right now, and you took advantage of the situation.  I don't
feel real good about that, do you?"

"It was no big deal," the boy reiterated stubbornly.

"If Carl hadn't come along, nobody wouida had to know." "Listen, if this
all goes okay tomorrow--and I really don't think we'll be looking at any
big upsets--you and me are gonna have a little talk about some of the
ruts along the road to manhood."

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

"Not th/s again." "Yeah, th/s again."  Gideon's hand was allowed to rest
on the boy's shoulder only briefly before Peter shrugged it away. "You
don't need to be drinking now, Peter.  You've got too much going' for
you.  Booze can only get in the way." "You got another false tooth to
scare me.  with?"  He indicated Gideon's lower half by way of the chin
jerk he was quickly perfecting.

"Maybe a wooden leg or something?"

"No, but I can bar the window and sleep outside your door, if that's
what it takes."  174 Defender "You'd be a fire hazard."  Peter saw the
chance to play both ends against the middle and, like any normal kid, he
used it readily.

"Anyway, with any luck, we'H be goto' back home.  Right, More?"

The question took Raina by surprise.  Suddenly she had her little boy
back. Her prodigal son was ready to be taken home.  And, just for a
moment, all that mattered was that he was ready, and that he had turned
to her. Tears scalded the back of her throat.  If she spoke, they would
surely surge upward and reduce her to an emotional-wreck.  She had no
an.  ~wers, anyway, but she gave a quick nod and opened her arms to him;
That he permitted a hug--even returned it--felt like something of a
victory, particularly when Gideon's pat on the shoulder had been turned
away.  Oh, God, she was a poor excuse for a woman of character! But
Raina was willing to take her small triumphs however they presented
themselves these days. The next morning Peter was up earlier than Gideon
expected.  He himself was up earlier than he wanted to be, after last
night.  He would have given any~hlng to have been able to take Raina to
bed and make the world--mostly h/s world--go away for her.  But, of
course, he was dreaming with his eyes wide open on that score. Peter was
helping him.  ~lf to a bowl of the Lucky Charms he'd asked Gideon to
stock for him.

"Moro's downstairs, sleeping on the sofa in the den;" he reported.

Gideon headed for the coffee frxings.

"Let's try to be real quiet.

She hasn't been sleeping very long.  Couple of hours, tops.  "

"She's been up all night?"

Gideon nodded solemnly.

"Did she think I might run off or what?"

Defender 175 "She just wanted to stay close by."  Gideon shoved the pot
under the faucet and ran some water. "She's a strong woman, your mother.
She's worried about how all this is affecting you.  You need to give
some thought to what it would be like to be in her shoes right now."

"And not cause any trouble."

"That would help."  For a kid Peter's age, it was probably a lot to ask,
considering the circumstances.

"It's gonna work out."

You think so?  " It was a rhetorical question, quickly followed by the
real concern.

"Yeah, but how?"

"We'll know soon enough."  Gideon turned the coffeepot on, then turned
to watch Peter slurp spoonfuls of tiny pink and blue marshmallows into
his mouth.

"Your grandfather didn't have a chance to make a sweat with you?"

Cheeks puffed out like a foraging squirrel's, the boy "That's maybe what
we should've done this weekend.  Might have kept us all out of trouble."
"You guys haft any twouble up in, the Noth Wooz?"  Two big gulps slid
audibly down Peter's'throat.

"Run into any " No bears.  "

"Too bad."  The spoon clattered in Peter's bowl.

"How come you don't have a beard?"

"What?"  From bears to beards?  Gideon rubbed his chin as if there had
been some hair there just a minute ago, then pulled a dubious scowl.

"I was just thinking--my dad didn't have much of ~i beard, either."

On his way to the s'mk, Peter stopped to check out the reflection of his
profile in the toaster.

"Do you think I'm ever gonna get a beard?"

"Why?  You wanna be shavin' every day?"

"I was kinda wondering when I might start."

 176 Defender Gideon shrugged.

"I maybe shave once a week."

"I noticed my grandfather doesn't have much of a beard, either."

Peter gave his cereal bowl a hasty rinsing.

"Indian men usually don't.  It works out pretty good.  We don't have to
go around with little pieces of to'det paper stuck to our faces."

"Huh?"

Gideon chuckled. "I hear some of those muscle-bound pinup boys shave
their chests, too.  So if you ever wanna be a muscle-bound p'mup boy,
you've got the Chippewa advantage." "I don't care about chests.  It's
just that some of my friends are starting to shave" -- Peter did a
double-take and let out a belated hoot.

"You gotta be kidding.  They shave their chests?"

"Strange world, isn't it?"  Gideon smiled, pleased with the lead-in he'd
inadvertenfiy given him~ If "A guy needs the old tried-and-true ways
just to help him keep his head straight."

"We did smoke the pipe together."

"You and your grandfather?" "He said I shouldn't smoke cigarettes, like
he does, but that the pipe isn't like smoking.  It's like a holy thing.
I didn't understand all the prayers, but it felt..."  A grunt conveyed
his frustration with the puniness of mere words.

"I liked the way it felt.  Like someone was listening."

Gideon affirmed the feeling with a nod. "I know what you mean.  You try
to hang on to that, okay?  Don't let any thing make you forget." That
goes without saying, Peter's big, brown, twelve-year-old eyes said.  The
look was all innocence, total trust.  Gideon suddenly felt like a very
old man. "I want you to know something, Peter.  You and your mother are
both very important to me.  You're family, and Defender 177 that means
everything."  He stood next to the boy, their backsides resting against
the counter, arms identically folded, one ankle crossed over the other,
each contemplating his own bare toes. "I know we haven't been close, but
if you're willing, I'd like to see that change." Raina appeared in the
doorway, her sleepy eyes underscored by gray smudges of fatigue.  By the
look she gave him, Gideon knew she'd heard what he'd said. He saw no
sign of approval, and none of disapproval.

Only weariness.

"You look like you could use some coffee," he said, straightening as
though somebody had said, Hop to it.  "I could, thank.q?" "I could make
you some toast, Morn," Peter offered, following Gideon's swift lead.

"We've got English muffins, too, and raspberry jam."

"Just..." Gideon looked up from the coffeepot.  Peter turned from the
refrigerator. Both pairs of beautiful brown eyes anxiously awaited her
command.

She smiled.

"Actually, I think I could go for an English muffin, too."

Peter smiled, too.

"I'll make it for you." Despite Gideon's efforts to pave the way for a
friendly, open-and-shut hearing, the group that gathered in the lobby
outside Judge Hall's chambers could well have been an as-sen ably of
strangers from different parts of the globe.  And they might well have
been gathered for a wake, unhappily scheduled for a still, sticky,
slugghh summer afternoon.  The air was cloying, the silence deafening,
the eyes ~olitely blind. In reality, the only new face belonged to
l~aina's attorney, Jeffrey Metz, who met her at the courthouse.  He
shook hands all around, then sidled up to Raina and quietly assured her
that he had done his research and that he was "on  178 Defender top of
the issues?"  The judge had acted in accordance with state and federal
law so far. "But we'll see," he concluded as the judge opened his office
door and announced that he was ready to discuss the Defender case. They
flowed toward the voice like molasses.  First Arlen, then Metz, then
Peter filed in. "Sorry about the 'air-conditioning," the man who was
waiting for them was saying.  "It broke down yesterday." The judge's
voice sounded prophetic.  Gideon dragged his feet, reluctant to heed the
call.  And so did Raina.  Just before they reached the office door, she
tugged on his arm, suddenly desperate to draw him away from the others
for a quick word.  She looked up at him plaintively, as though
ultimately he were the one she trusted.

"Gideon, I'm scared."

He wanted to hold her in his arms, then and there.  He glanced at the
plain round clock that hung on the wall just above her head, but he
didn't see the time.  What he saw was two people holding on to each
other for dear life. What he felt was her silky hair against his cheek,
and what he heard was his voice promising her that she had nothing to
worry about because he would take care of everything, and the hell with
Mr. Jeffrey Metz. He looked down at her again and smiled.  In her
long-sleeved yellow blouse and navy ski~, she looked the perfect image
of the fourth-grade teacher of every nine-year-old.  boy's dreams.  Bad
things should never happen to a woman like this, he told himself.  He
cast about for some magic words, but he drew a blank. "You're doin'
fine, Raina."  Yeah, right.  Some pitiful imitation of a hero you turn
out to be, Defender. Raina closed her eyes and shook her head.  Her lips
were so pale they were almost translucent. "No, I'm not.  They're to
take my son Defender 179 He put his hand on her shoulder and slid it
slowly down the back of her arm.

"I don't think so."

"What if they do?"  She glanced at the office door, which stood open,
waiting.  Her chest heaved on a quick, panicky breath.

"There must be something I can do.  Something you can do.  Isn't there?"

"Arlen's not go' rag to press this thing much further, Raina.  After
what happened this past weekend?"  With a cluck of his tongue he shook
his head.

"It's not gonna hap" What if it does?  "

He squeezed her hand, her frantic question echoing in his head.  As far
as he was concerned, there was only one ultimate answer.

"You're his mother.  Nothing's ever gonna change that."

The judge's voice shot through their circuits like a power surge.

"You two coming?"

Judge Half made the session feel more like a meeting than a hearing.
Everyone sat around in a circle.  Each face in the room glowed with its
own sweaty sheen.  Arlen sat near the window and smoked.  Gideon rested
his ankle on his knee and waggled his booted foot.  Peter had his knees
going up and down like pistons as he bounced his heels on the-floor.
Raina's hands were knotted in her lap. But everyone had a say.  As
promised, Judge Half was interested in hearing from almost everyone
present.  Jeffrey Metz simply took notes. The judge said he'd heard a
rumor that Raina had inquired about a teaching position with the Pine
Lake School. "We're getting a new fac'dity pretty soon, right, Chairman?
Casino profits are going' for a good cause."  At Oid-eon's affirming
nod, the judge turned to Raina.

"If you really want to teach here again, I hope you get the job."

 "I enjoyed teaching here before," she said. Playing his role like an
orchestra leader, the judge swung his seat toward Peter.

"I see you're getting along with your grandfather pretty good."

"We spent the weekend together."  Peter gripped his knees, trying to
force them to be still for a moment, but they kept popping up at odd
intervals, as though they had a mind of their own.

"We went to the powwow and stuff."

"That's good."  The judge cued Arlen.

"How did that go, then?"

"Good, good."

"I did sorta screw up on curfew times and stuff," Peter admitted.

"But, you know, if nimishoomis is still willing to let me come and visit
once in a while, I'll behave myself a lot better."

"Nimishoomis, huh?  That's very good."  Judge Half reflected for a
moment.

"What would 'once in a while' be, do you think?"

"I don't know."  The knees started bouncing furiously again.

"I get pretty busy once school starts.  But we can come back next
summer."

Peter lifted one shoulder.

"Or spring.  I'd like to learn how to spear fish when Uncle Gideon gets
us our treaty settlement."

"You've been getting to know your uncle pretty well, too, I see.

These are intea~ times for all of us, Peter.  " Vfith-out mi~ing a beat
in his lecture, Judge Half swept a handful of papers off the desk top
just behind him. "It's good to be Chippewa.  We are a small minority in
this big American country, but we have much to be proud of.  And these
are interesting times for us.  We know who we are, and we will let our
neighbors learn who we are. And learn from us, if they will."

He eyed Peter pointedly.

"But we need every Chippewa we have." Defender 181 "Well, I'm Chippewa,
Judge.  I know that.  I've always known that." "Good, good.  Mrs.
Defender has done well by you."  He spared Raina a deferential nod.

"I encourage you to follow up on the teaching job.

We need teachers.  Don't we, Oid- ' "We do." "So I just want to
encourage that."  Turning to his papers, the judge gave the top one a
cursory glance, then set it aside and scanned the next as he spoke.
"Now, I've gone over all the records.  There is one glaring piece of
information that is missing, and that, of course, is the identity of
Peter's biological father.  In fact, the court records contain an
affidavit requesting his mother's anonymity, so that information was not
available to the social worker, or to Mrs. Defender.  But Arlen knew,
because his daughter told him.  And Jared Defender knew, because he had
contact with her. According to the records, Jared made all the legal
arrangements."  When he finally.  looked up, he directed his attention
to Raina.

"I found that interesting."

"Jared was able to make the arrangements because he was a lawyer,"

Raina explained quickly.

"And Gideon told him that he knew" -- she glanced at Arlen and said the
next words softly, gently, seemingly for his benefit "--a woman who was
looking for... adoptive parents for..." It was as though another piece
of the puzzle had dropped into the judge's handful of papers.  He looked
up at Gideon.  "You knew."

"I see."  Ostensibly deep in thought, the judge set aside another page.

"You realize that since Arlen is Peter's closest blood relative, and
since every case of this kind affects not only a child and a family, but
also the interests and the  182 Defender future of the Pine Lake Band
of Chippewa, I'm inclined to declare that the boy's biological
grandfather" -- Gideon leaned forward. "Judge, my brother was an
enrolled member of this band, and he was legally" -- "You're
interrupting me, Mr. Chairman.  And I am presiding here."

There was a brief stare-down.  Eyes smoldering, Gideon glanced away.

Having made his point, the judge continued, his imperious tone never
wavering. "Now, I'm willing to recognize Mrs. Defender as Peter's mother
in every sense but the biological sense.  And the biological sense is
what establishes Peter's degree of Indian blood, his right to tribal
enrollment, and his right to call himself Pine Lake Chippewa.  So I hope
that Mrs. Defender will continue to take part in Peter's upbringing--in
fact, I intend to stipulate with Mr. Skinner, who, as primary custodial"
-- "No!"  Gideon shot out of his chair, instinctively putting himself
between Peter and the judge. The move stunned everyone.  Gideon could
feel the eyes boring holes in him from all sides.  He had but one ace,
and it took him a moment to drag it up from its deep, dark, well-guarded
hole. With it came an icy exterior and a calm, steady voice.  "Excuse
me, Judge Half, I meant to say no, Arlen is not Peter's closest blood
relative.  I am."

The judge didn't look too surprised.

"I guess a simple blood test is all it will take to clear up this whole
thing" -- "What are you talkin' about?"  Peter demanded.  Gideon steeled
himself against the voice until it came pounding on his ear.  The boy's
rising confusion speared Gideon right between the shoulder blades.

"Uncle... Uncle Gideon, what the hell are you talkin' about?"

Defender 183 Turning slowly, Gideon straggled with a thick tongue and a
dearth of words. "Jared raised you, Peter.  He was your father.  I've
got no right to make that claim."  He forced himself to look the boy in
the eye.

"But I...."

"Gave me away?" Gideon rubbed his forehead with unsteady fingertips,
then muttered an expletive into his palm.  The room seemed to be tipping
and swaying like the deck of a big fishing boat, and somewhere on the
periphery, seesawing at odds with him right now( sat Tomasina's father
and Peter's mother.  He wished one of them would just blast him and get
it over with.

But it was Peter who demanded,

"Why?" "All I can tell you right here and right now is that it wasn't
because I didn't want to be your father."  Gideon turned ~msee'mg eyes
on Judge Half. "In a million years, I never thought you'd take the boy
from the mother who raised him and give primary custody to..."

"An old man?"  Arlen put in.

"At least I know my duty to the boy."

"You see it differently is all."

Judge Half sat back in his chair. "Odeon, I guess you and me should have
had a littlo heart-to-heart before w~ got everybody together for this.
You know what's at stake her~.  We suffered the wholesale removal of
Indian children from their tribes and families for longer than either
one of us can remember, longer than Arlen can member, and he's older
than both of us put together." When his nickel's worth of humor fell
flat, the judge mined his lecture back on Gideon. "We've been through
this before, in this court.  And you stood with the tribe.  If you
hadn't been personally involved this time" -- "Yeah, well, I am
personally involved.  And I thought some kind of a compromise could he
worked out, so that  184 Defender Peter could have his grandfather as a
grandfather.  And his mother... and his father, Jared was his..."
Suddenly the words wouldn't go together in the right order.  Jared was
his real, legal, undisputed.  "Hell, I've been Peter's uncle all these
years.  I'm not... I promised" -- He closed his eyes, and his voice
drifted in frustration.

"I promised not to in-ted ere

"I'll order the blood tests.  Soon as we have some results, we'll be
able to make a decision."  For Gideon's benefit, Judge Half added a
footnote.

"I don't know who you made this promise to, but I suspect he's dead."

He motioned Peter closer. "I'd like to talk with you just a little bit
more, son, but the rest of them can lislea in if they want.  I have a
feeling there's going to be some heated discussion after this little
set-to breaks up, and I just want to give you a little background." He
glanced at each of the adults as he expounded.  "" Cause Iget 'era in
here every day.  Domestic entanglements.  I deal with 'em every day.
It's hard for people to get along.  Gettin' harder all the time, seems
"See, the old way, we didn't have judges.  We had people.  who were a
little older, a little wiser, who tried to mediate disputes.  And Vhe
old way, if something happened that made it impossible for parents to
raise a child--say, some kind of trouble" -- "I could see if somebody
died or got killed," Peter said bitterly. "Well, there's all kinds Of
bad trouble, son.  Anyway, something happened, like, okay, maybe the
baby's mother " Yeah, but she didn't die until way later," the boy
reminded him. "I'm talking about an example here."  Judge Hall's
reproach was followed by a pregnant pause, a silencing look. Defender
"If the baby's mother died, then it would have been a: ural thing for a
man to give his son to his married brol to raise, it being pretty hard
for a man to raise a baby ale Now, none of this probably would've been
kept a big sec.  In fact, the old way, a child's uncles were like his
father, t And his aunties were like his mother.  No questions,
problems."

He shrugged, backed off on the romanticism and op for honesty.

"Well, that's not true.  People are people, ."  they bii/ker and
complain and make problems for the selves, but they work it out if they
can.  Maybe soox maybe later, but they do the best they can. "And that's
what we'regonna do here.  We're gonna w~ this out.  You've got people
here who love you.  Yo~ probably a little mad at 'em right now, so I
just wanted point that out.  I heard a lot of good things you had go
amongst you when you all first came in and sat dot Things were a little
strained, but everybody's been willi, deep down."

The judge wagged a finger.

"So you go ahead and-mad, but don't be too hard on these people, son.
They're family.  Your family."

"That's easy for you to say, Judge."

"You think my job's easy?"  He snorted.

"Maybe I'll t~ it over to you one day."

"Don't bet on it."  Peter scowled briefly at Gideon, that the judge.

"Do I have to stay with him?"

"Where do you want to stay?"  the judge asked. "He can stay with me."
Arlen, too, glanced at Gidec But there was no judgment in his eyes, and
he spoke kind "We'll make a sweat tomorrow night. Maybe you'd wan come."
"You think you're gonna make me get into some lit!  tent with h/m and" 
186 Defender Arlen rose from his chair slowly, his old knees cracking
into place. "No one is ever forced into a sweat.  You can try it out
first with me if you want to.  If you don't, that's up to you." lZaina
was shell-shocked.  Her heart hammered wildly, her pulse rang in her
ears, but her senses were as dull as mud.  She wasn't sure she had form
or substance.  Maybe she'd become invisible.  When she turned to her
attorney, she was surprised to find she still had a voice.

"Isn't anything up to me?"

"Well, the state's jurisdiction is !imil~!  where the child is an
enrolled tribal member, but I intend to pursue some research along
several possible lines."  Metz scanned his notes.  "Maybe there's some
kind of a damage suit here against somebody.  I mean, mental, emotional"
-- "Damage suit?"  The words sounded absurd.  Dazed, Raina shook her
head.

"I want my son."

"Well, we don't have a ta~ling yet, but I'm just trying to get one jump
ahead" -- Tell him to jump off a bridge, Gideon thought, his heart
breaking as he stood there, angrily watching her seek out an ally other
than himself.

"I want to know exactly where I stand," she said.

"In my opinion" -- Metz edged her toward the door "--no matter what
those blood tests show, your prospects are rather dismal.  Except, as I
said, if we can find an angle for a civil suit."

"Thank you."  Miraculously the starch had returned to Raina's voice.

"You've been no help whatsoever, but thank you for making the drive up
here, Jeff."

She finally turned to Gideon.

"I want to talk to you."  He was glad somebody did. Chapter 10 She
waited until they were alone, and then she didn't know where to start.
Let h/m start, she decided.  The ball was in his court. Unbeknowust to
her, it had actually been there all along.  So let him finally put it
into play.  Let him put forth some combination of words that didn't add
up to c~azi-hess.  She was all ears, which was appropriate.  It surely
made her look as foolish as she felt. But they went to his house, ate
his ham-and-cheese sandwiches, drank his coffee and sat on his porch,
all without speaking more than a dozen words. So it was up to her, and
she went right to the sore spot.  "Why didn't you tell me?" "That I was
Peter's biological father?"  His voice was quietly strained, as though
he had to pull it back through the sieve of his memories. "I didn't see
how it would do anybody any good.  I figured somewhere down the road,
when Peter was older--after he'd gotten to know me a little bet 188
Defender ter--I'd tell him about some of my past mistakes."  He stared
into the mug of coffee he held cradled in both hands.  "And I'd tell him
how he was the only good thing that ever came of those mistakes."

"What I'm asking you is..."  She waited until he looked up.

"Why didn't you tell me?" "God, Raina.  Tell you?"  He glanced at the
plank ceiling, shaking his head over a mirthless chuckle.

"When do you think would have been the best time?"

"In the very beginning."

"Jared figured total anonymity was the best way to go."

"He did, did he?  Except that he knew, so I don't see how the term total
applies." "Jared agreed to be Peter's father.  That made me his-uncle
The more people who knew otherwise, the harder it would have been to
keep it that cut-and-dried."  Gideon offered a wistful, self, conscious
smile. "I knew I'd done wrong.  I wanted to find a way to make it right,
and I went to Jared.  We were just trying to keep it simple, I guess."

 "You could have told me."

"Jared thought--, " Jared thought, Jared thought, Jared thought.  "
She'd fallen back on the same crutch enough times herself, but she
wasn't about to let him borrow it.  Not now.

"As the judge rightly pointed out, Jared is dead.

You could have told me.  " "I thought about it once or twice, but, hell,
as little contact as we've had?"  He avoided her eyes. "What would he
the point?  After all this time, it seemed like it would create more
problems.  we didn't need." She wanted to shake him and shout right in
his ear.  We've had some pretty big contact in the last few days,
Gideon.  Am I the only one who's noticed? Defender j But, of course, she
didn't.  Instead, she calmly quire him about things that touched her
only indirectly.  It important to make him turn over everything that had
hidden from her, as though her knowing every detail mil somehow undo the
damage. "Why did you give him... I mean, why didn't you Tomasina" --
"See, that's why."  His rigid hand leveled a curt kar chop on her
questions. "That's why I didn't want to you.  Because then you'd start
asking why, and none of reasons are gonna sound very good to you. It's
all over a done with.  The whys don't matter anymore.  What m tered then
and what matters now is that Peter got a go home out of the deal.  "

"What about his mother?"

"What about .... ?"  His eyes filled with a tenderness transformed the
tone of his voice.

"What about her?"  "Did you love her?"

"Did I love... Tomasina?"

The intensity in his eyes turned hers away.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"I shouldn't have asked y that."

"Why?  What answer did you hope to hear?  That I did' He paused, and her
heartbeat stalled in the interim.  " ~ that I didn't?  "

"It's none of my business."

Then why was she asking?  And why was she still waiti for an answer, the
answer?

And why did he feel a need to tell her in the blunt eat w.  possible?

"We had sex, and I got her pregnant."  He looked straight in the eye,
daring her to judge him more harsl than he judged himself. "That was
what was between  190 Defender Neither one of us liked the idea of
getting married--at least, not to each other.  She didn't want a baby,
didn't want an abortion, didn't especially like the idea of giving him
up for adoption until after Jared talked to her.  But o1' Jared was
always pretty persuasive."

"Did he support her financially?"

"I supported her, mostly.  We lived together in St.  Paul for six
months, which was why I was surprised to learn that Arlen knew anything
about it.  I didn't think she talked to him much.  Hell, she didn't talk
to me much."

"Didn't Arlen even know that you were the man she was seeing?"

"You never knew any more about that woman than she wanted you to know.
Especially how she felt about anything.  She never let anything show."
He gave a dry laugh.  "I guess I should talk, you know, thinking back on
what I was like in those days.  But, anyway, she said it was none of her
father's damn business."

"But she told him she was pregnant."

"Yeah, I guess she did.  And that was the kicker, wasn't it?"  He sipped
his coffe~, offering her a sheepish glance over the rim of his cup. Then
he shrugged. "Surprised the hell out of me.  Maybe it was her way of
thumbing her nose at the ol' man.  She liked to let people know that she
was gonna live her life exactly the way she damn well pleased.

"But at least she kept her word," he allowed.

"She said she'd canny the baby to term if I'd help her get away from
home. She'd always wanted to live in the Cities.  And, hell, she took to
city life like a pigeon.  But me, I hated it.  I worked a lot of
different jobs--construction, assembly lines, fast food.  Tommy took
some classes, played bingo, did pretty much whatever she wanted."
Defender 191 It was the first time he'd used a nickname for the woman
with whom he'd conceived a child.  He'd schooled himself to manage his
memories carefully, and the only other person who had heard the story
was an uninvolved counselor.  Now, here he was, telling the whole damn
thing to Raina.  Raina was involved.  She was practically sitting on the
edge of her chair, and the look in her eyes--her intense, vie ari-ous
involvement in the whole sordid mess--was killing him. "Except party,"
he noted quickly, grasping for any uplifting straw he might offer. "We
agreed on that much.  We stayed out of the bars while she was pregnant.
Hell of a long six months, but..."  He turned to look out the window.
His voice drifted as the memories turned from bad to worse.  "After
Peter was born, she split.  And I told myself I was nursing a big
heartache.  Aching for what, I didn't know, but it served as a nice,
slick slide to the edge of nowhere.  I ended up in detox."

"Which was not an alcohol treatment center," Raina recalled.

"No.  It's a place where" -- A place her experience wouldn't allow her
to imagine, which was just fine, he-cause he didn't want her he able to
imagine what it had been like for him there.  Four days in hell had
convinced him he wasn't going any lower. "It was a place where they were
putting too many Indians.  Later on, I was part of the group of
community activists and Indian leaders that got the Health and Human
Services Department to take a look at what was going on there.  We
forced them to shut the place down."

Her eyes brightened.

"I remember.  Itwas in the news.  But I didn't know you were part of"
"There were quite a few of us," he said, minimizing his contribution
with a dismissive gesture. "But that came a  192 Defender whole lot
later.  After I dried out, I asked Jared to help get me into a treatment
center.  He did.  And I'm grateful to him for that."

"Do you need connections to get into treatment?"

 "Depends."   He smiled indulgently. "You need a health insurance card,
a bank account, a social worker ... something.  I had a brother who was
embarrassed to be ~elated to me."  He anticipated her objections and
waved them away with an easy nile. "Anyway, I met this old Indian guy
who was working as a janitor there.  He'd been a tribal councilman. He'd
also been through the program.  I'd never thought about getting into
politics, but I sure liked ol' Everett.  I learned a lot from him.  And
I actually talked to him, told him things I never told anyone else." He
remembered telling Everett about Raina and about Peter, Everett had
suggested that Gideon trusi~d his brother 'with what he loved most
because somewhere along the line he'd decided he couldn't trust himself.
He'd always thought it a strange observation, since he knew damn well
he'd resented Jared, and for no good reason.  Jared had always done
everything right, for Caod's sakE.  Where was the crim~ in that?

"Everett mus{ have been almost like a father to you," she said.

"Tve never heard much about your father.  Not from Jared, and not from
you."

Gideon shrugged.

"My ol' man never had the time of day for us.  But Everett told me that
he'd missed out with his own kids, too.  He said that's what drunks
usually do." And when the time had come, Gideon told himself, he had
done the same.  Like father, like son.

Damn, it had been so much easier being an uncle.

"I knew Jared would make a good father.  I knew you'd be the best mother
a kid could" -- Elbows braced on his Defender 193 knees, he spread his
hands wide. "When do you think I should have told you, Rain aT " I guess
it doesn't matter now.  I can see how it became more difficult, the more
time that passed and the more distant we became.  " "You were always the
one who sent the Christmas cards with all your family news and the
school pictures."  He thanked her now with a wistful smile.

"God, he's growing up so fast."

She glanced away, then swallowed hard.  He could see her putt'ms words
together in her head and gathering the cour-.  age to say them.  Her
breast quivered with her next long, deep breath.

She looked him in the eye.

"Are you going to take him from me, Gideon?"

"No."  He shook his head.

"No, I can't" -- "You don't want him, and I can't have him--is that"
"Don't want him!"  The accusation drove him to his feet.  "You think I
don't want" -- Old memories and new emotions swirled around them as she
stood up to him. He grabbed her shoulders. "I want, Raina.  I've wanted"
-- he closed his eyes and savored a quick, deep dose of her delicate
scent "--so bad sometimes I could hardly..."  He dropped his hands to
his sides and turned away. "That's what happens when you stop
anesthetizing yourself.  The feelings catch up to you."  And speaking of
bad, God help him, he had it bad.

"Peter has feelings, too."

"Once he cools off, you're the one he'll talk feelings with.  You're his
mother."  He glanced at her quickly, then away.  "And obviously he'll
still see Jared as his father."

"My parental rights have been stripped away.  Abrupfiy.  Unexpectedly."

She grabbed his arm and made him look at  194 Defender her. "Unfairly,"
she insisted, as though she thought she would get an argument out of him
on that score.

When she didn't, she sighed.

"And the most frustrating part is that I can't do anything about it.
Peter's always been able to count on me." Her grip on his arm tightened
for a moment, then fell away.  The vigor in her voice withered.

"I feel powerless, and I hate it."

"You've already taken steps.  You've said you're willing to move back up
here."  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stood for
a moment like a diver mentally setting himself up to spring.

"You know, there's an obvious solution to this," he said finally.

"What?"

Their eyes met, hers guileless, his guarded.

"We could get married."

"Married?"

She said it as though she were unfamiliar with the concept.  He felt
like a guy who had somehow managed to get clobbered by the ton of bricks
he had just dropped.  It wasn't easy to shove the damn things off, but
with a cavalier shrug he gave it a try.

"Why not?"

"Surely," she said, sounding a little dazed herself, "the real question
is why?"

"Because..."  I want you to be my wife probably wouldn't cut it.

"Because I want to marry my son's mother.  Isn't that a good enough
reason?"

She glared at him.

"It may well he that the last person Peter wants his mother to marry is
his father." "Well, it's not up to him.  We're his..."  When he realized
he'd placed his hand on his chest, he smiled ruefully and included her
with an openhanded gesture.

"We're the adults.  It's up to us."

Defender 195 "This is absolutely ridiculous."  She backed away, as
though his outstretched hand threatened her somehow.  "No, thin is
outrageous.  I can't .... We stayed together out there in a beautiful,
beautiful ... and we..." She waved her hand vaguely toward the outdoors,
and her voice suddenly teetered on a hurt-filled pitch.  The misty
glimmer in her eyes accused him of some cryptic crime. "But you didn't
even because it meant absolutely nothing.  Nothing but."  but what you
said about.  "

She made a cutoff gesture with two very shaky hands.

"I have to go now." Still stinging, he was a little slow on the uptake,
but the sound of her heels on the wood floor incited his whoa there
reflex.  He caught up to her before she got to the front door.

"Raina" -- Now that he had her by the ann, he didn't know what to say.

She'd called his proposal absurd, but she was hardly laughing. "No.
Don't touch me, Gideon."  She shook him off and plowed her fingers
through.  her hair, squaring herself up for a revised, more composed
exit. "I guess I need to cool Off, too.  Peter and I both.  We don't
understand" -- "let me drive you," he said gently, working hard to keep
his twico-rejected hand from reaching for a third rebuff.

"No~ I'il be fine."  She took a deep breath,

"There.  I'm fine.  It's important never never to lose your head, you
see." She smiled weakly.

"I'll be fine."

"I'm not letting you go like this."

"How w///you let me go, then?  The last time it was to your brother."

"He turned out to be the right man for you." "And when did you decide
that?"  She wrapped her arms around her middle, steadying herself,
setting her chin.  196 Defender She was winding up to tell him off, he
thought.  He could feel it coming.

"You found a wife for your brother, and then you gave us a child,"

she clipped. "Quite a mark able piece of work, Gideon.  And now that
you're a tribal leader, you're making big changes around here.  If you
can get this treaty thing through, I think a movie would he in order."
Bolstered by an infusion of flippancy, she managed a stiff-lipped smile.
"With somebody like CharItoh Heston playing you.

Gideon Defender, the leader, the prophet, the right hand of God.  "

"Cut it out, Raina."  His befuddled gaze sharpened. "I'm just trying to
get by, that's all.  To work things out the best way I" -- "Your way.
Which is to avoid making commitments."

 "That's a damn lie!"

"You 'work things out' for everyone around you, while you manage to"
"What do you mean, avoid commitments?," He grabbed her shoulders.

"I

just asked you to marry me, for God's She lifted her pretty,
aristocratic chin.

"You proposed an arrangement, not a marriage."

"I offered a solution to a problem.  I knew damn well what kind of a
response I'd get."  Gradually he drew her closer, noting an unmistakable
flickerin her eyes as he slid first one arm around her, then the other.
His lips were a scant inch from hers, and his eyes glowed with a
complacent smile.

"But I know how to get a different kind of re-spouse from you, don't

I?  " "Gideon, this isn't" -- She closed her eyes.  He sphyed his hands
over the swell of her hips and pressed her firmly Defender 197 against
him.  Her complaint turned soft, and he used it, molded her to his
hardness.

"It isn't fair."

"It isn't a game.  There are no referees to decide what's fair" -- "And
what's foul?"  she challenged breathlessly, her chest heaving
involuntarily against him.

He nuzzled her hair back from her temple and whispered, "It's up to us."

"We have to he sensible."  It sounded like the hazy echo of some old,
dusty advice.

"Why?"  he breathed against the side of her neck.

"I got a lousy response to my proposal, but how about this?"  He took
her earlobe between his teeth, gently sawing on it, tormenting her with
his flickering tongue as he deftly unzipped the back of her skirt.  He
tucked his hand into her cotton panties and stroked her bottom, drawing
her up to him and holding her fight against his hard member.

"How will you respond to this~ hmm?"

She whispered his name so softly that it felt like a caress, and he
hungered after her mouth, demanding more of the same.  Her lips parted
on a jagged Sigh, welcoming his questing tongue.  It was a hot, wet,
seductive kiss, at once promising and postul/waiting.  His lips nipped,
then sipped, then devoured, while his tongue made love to her mouth. He
rubbed his hands teasingly over the warm curve of her hips, pushing her
clothing down, but just a little. "Yes or no?"  He licked her lower lip,
~ nipped it as he rocked his hips against hers, whispering hofiy, "Yes
or no, Rain aT " Yes.  " Her body listed, yearning for his.  She gripped
his shoulders.

"Yes, yes."

"Yes, what?"  198 Defender She loosened the first two buttons on her
blouse, then looked up at him shyly.

"Yes, make love to me."

"Yes, who?"  he demanded, finishing the job she'd started as he lowered
one knee to the floor. "Who do you want torn" He tasted her nipple,
tonguing and suckling until it hardened.  She slid her fingers into his
hair and cuddled him at her breast, whispering,

"Gideon.  I want you, Gideon."

The magic words.  The words that turned him from mere man into hunter,
warrior, prince, king.  Words that eom-pelled him to sweep her into his
arms and carry her to his bed, to finish undressing her and to worship
every sensitive part of her body with coddling hands and adoring lips.
She pulled his shirt open and lifted her head, straining to touch the
small nubbin of his nipple with the tip of her tongue.  He played a
little keep-away, enjoying the sweet shiver it gave him to let her touch
and glide away.

Her teeth grazed him as she fumbled with his belt buckle, and he
groaned.

"How long will you respond this way, l~alna?"  He eased his thigh
between hers, prodding her to ride it.  When she did, he whispered,

"Is this a yes?"

The buckle came loose with a soft clink.  She tore at the snap on his
jeans.

"Yessss..."

He lowered his pants, lowered his hips, needy probe to the private
entrance to her body.

her moist and ready for him.

"And this?  Is this a yes?"  "Yes, Gideon, yes."

He took pains to protect her, just as he took care to pro-pare her.

She filled her ] and urged him to come to her, arched to receive the
full measure of his initial thrust and draw him deep, into her inner
self.  He drew back slowly, like a bowman Defender 199 taking scrupulous
aim at a very small target.  But he was loath to let fly his arrow now
that it was so sweetly notched.  He set a slow, undulating rhythm,
reaching ever closer to the target, attuning himself to her gradual need
for a quicker pace. "How long?"  he whispered, then flicked his tongue
over her temple, sipping her saltiness.

"How long can you stay with me?  I can keep this up all night."

"Then do it!"  She pressed her cheek against his shoulder and wrapped
him with arms and legs and earnest sire.

"Oh, Gideon, yes, do it... do it."

He had no choice but to oblige with all his considerable skill, not to
mention his heart and soul.

And later, when again she said,

"Oh, Gideon," he knew he'd done it right.  Her soft sigh poured over him
like warm, cleansing water, and her intimate touch convinced him that he
belonged to her and always would, whether she stayed or left him.
"You'll have to' play yourself in the movie," she decided out of the
clear blue.

"Why?"

"Because there's no one else like you."  She pr~pped herself up on her
elbows and looked down at him.  The shift gave him a nice view of her
lovely bare breasts, but it took her hand away from him.

"You're beautiful," she said, her voice filled with wonder.

"Don't stop touching me, Raina."  He drew her back into the cradlvof his
arm, in one fluid move reclaiming her hand and placing it low on his
flat belly.

"Please.  I've never..."  "Never what?"

"Felt this good."  He'd dreamed of making love to her, and the dream was
always good.  But he'd never dreamed that she would come willingly to
his bed.  He closed his eyes,  200 Defender turned his lips to her hair
and whispered,

"I always knew we'd be good together."

She sighed.  For a long, quiet moment neither of them moved.  But when
he nuzzled the fine wisp of hair at her temple, something cool and wet
slid over the tip of his nose.  It felt suspiciously like a tear--a
tender, frightening, feminine thing with which he had precious little
experience.  He whispered her name.

She stiffened.

"I have to go." "Go where?"  He caught her and held her, searching her
eyes for some explanation.  All he found was a troubling semblance of
the evening shadows that surrounded them.  "This is 'the only place you
need to be right now," he told her solemnly.

"Stay with me."

"Gideon, I can't think."  She took a quick swipe at the corner of her
eye with the heel of her hand. "I have to go back to my room and try to
sort things out.  Try to" "You need sleep, Raina."

She closed her eyes, but she said,

"I can't sleep."

"What is it?"  He caught her face in his hands.

"Tell me what's wrong." She was trying, albeit feebly, to push herself
away from him, but he was having none of it.  He massaged her temples
with his thumbs until, muscle by muscle, she relaxed her body against
his, giving in, letting him take the pressure away.

"Even when I'm exhausted, it's very hard for me to fall asleep."

"That's because you're trying too hard.  You think too much.  You always
did."  He stuffed an extra pillow behind his neck and settled her in his
arms, pressing her head into the pocket of his shoulder.

"I can help you sleep."

"Gideon" -- Defender 201 "Shhh, Raina.  Which sounds of natme would you
like to hear?  I can do loons if you like.  Or wolves, or..." He started
humming.  She tipped her chin up, and he saw the surprise in her eyes.
He touched his finger to his lips, then with one hand stroked her brow,
gently coaxing her eyelids closed as he sang to her softly in Chippewa,
words he remembered from his boyhood when nook orals his grandmother,
had sung them to him.  Shortest boyhood on record, as he recalled.  And
it had been such a long, long time ago. She slept well in Gideon's arms
that night.  She slept soundly, even when he slipped away early in the
morning.  It was when he phoned from the office that she finally woke.
He told her that he'd checked on the status of her' application for a
teaching position, and she was in. Despite the bright lilt in the voice
that delivered the news, and even though it was the answer she'd hoped
for, the news was somehow disquieting. It was decided, then.  All the
staid, comfortable, routine aspects of her life wee about to change.  It
occurred to her that if she examined the great' changes in her life too
closely, she would find that one man had somehow played a major role in
many of them.  And she was lying in his bed right now, between sheets
that smelled deliciously of his body.  In bed, where he'd always known
they would be good together.  And that was not enough. "Why so quiet?"
asked the voice on the phone.  The same voice she'd heard in the dark
last night.  The same voice that had sent shivers scurrying down her
spine.

"Isn't that what you wanted to hear?"

"Yes," she said, but her tone was flat.

"It really is.  I'll need a place to live.  Any suggestions?"

 202 Defender "How fancy?" "Two bedrooms.  Beyond that, the basics
would be nice."  Seated at his desk, Gideon tapped the eraser end of a
pencil on a pile of letters, many of them written essentially to curse
him and all his ancestors.

He shoved the tedious rancor aside.

Two bedrooms, plus the basics.  Hell, he could offer her that much.  In
fact, he had offered her that and more.  But he wasn't going to beg.
"What are you going to do with your house?"  he asked.  "Sell it.  It's
too much house for the two of us, anyway.  It's time I unloaded it.  I
have a friend who sells real estate.  I'll call her today."  She paused,
then added quietly,

"It's time I made some changes."

"Right."  Choose your own time, choose your own brand, sweetheart.
"Well, you don't qualify for tribal housing, but there are always a few
winterized lake cabins available for rent in the off-season."

"I'll start looking into that today."  She sighed.

"This is going to be so hard for Peter." "We're remodeling the high
school," he reported buoyantly.  "Adding a swimming pool and a bunch of
space new programs.  Putting the c~'mo profits to good use, just like
the judge said.  And if things keep go' rag the way they are, we'll be
able to pay for college for any of our kids who want to go."

"Our kids?"

"Pine Lake Chippewa kids."  Elbow propped on the desk, he rested his
brow in one large hand and rubbed his term-plcs.  "Raina... somehow I
think Peter's going to be our kid--yours and mine.  Maybe if you'd try
to look at it that way... Defender 203 " Like joint custody?  Isn't that
the usual fallout from a divorce?  "

She gave a little tsk.

"The pain of a divorce without the legalities.

How ironic.  "

"Ycah."  He lifted his face to the morning sun and the breeze wafting
through an open window.

"Ironic as hell."

"It's going to be hard for Peter to look at it the way you're
suggesting." "I have a feeling Arlen's going to help us out with that. I
mean, I think he's willing to let me, uh..."

"Take your rightful place?"

"They're concerned about Peter's place, not mine.  They want him to be
part of the tribe." Absently he moved an official-looking piece of paper
from one side of his desk to the other. "I was served with a court order
for a paternity test this morning.  The judge walked across the street
and handed it to me personally."  He gave a dry ehuelde as he snatched a
pencil from the howling coyote mug that Rosie had given him in honor of
some holiday he'd hardly known existed. "As if he thought I might try to
duck out on it or something.  So I'm going over to the clinic before I
head up to Arlen's this afternoon.  I want the three of us to do a
sweat, like Arlen said." "What about me?"   ~' "You're his mooring,
Raina.   He was already straining against the bonds before any of this
other stuff cropped up.   Now he's got a whole new cause, but he was
gonna test out the big waters, anyway."

"He's too young."

"No, he's not."  With one hand he mapped the peneft in half. "Look, he
thinks he hates my guts right now.  That's something we need to deal
with."

"Thinks?"

 204 Defender "Okay, so maybe he does," he admitted, his exasperation
level rising. "Maybe he always will.  Maybe he'll let it fester and eat
away at his insides unt'fi" -- "Gideon, please."  Her voice sounded
thre~dy and dis-mat.  "It's just that I'm feeling rather shut out of all
this."

"All his life you've been his safe harbor."  And l'.  ve been shut out.

I shut myself out. "Don't worry, Raina.  He'll come back to you.  It's
part of the circle. Don't you see that?"

"Bring him home--here--as soon as you can.  Will you do that, Gideon?"

"I will."  He closed his eyes and swallowed back the sand in his throat.

"Will you be there?  At home, when I get back?"

"I can't stay here like this, like... Gideon, I feel so" -- The space
between them sounded long, hollow and empty.  "If I'm not here, I'll be
at the lodge. I really have nowhere else to go until..."

"I'll find you."

Chapter 11 Peter wasn't ready io go back to anyonel Far from it.  Gideon
found him sitting on the porch.  with his grandfather, both of them
working on his dance bustle.  Peter was preparing the vanes of the
synthetic feathers that Arlen was working into a creation that would
eventually heeome a dancer's fan-shaped tail feathers. Gideon greeted
Arlen with a handshake.  Then grandfather reminded grandson of his
manners, just as nnele had once done.  The boy dutifully, if grudgingly,
obliged Gideon with the requisite handshake. "That cop came and got me
again," Peter said as he went back to carving the end of a feather with
his grandfather's penknife.

"Took me to a clinic.  I had to have a stupid blood test."

"I know."  Gideon hiked one booted foot up to the porch and braced his
hand on his knee.

"I did, too."

"So, what if they don't match?"  206 Defender Gideon hadn't g'e~en that
possibility much thought.  Maybe he was flattering himself, but he could
see more of himself in Peter every day. "None of this changes anything
as far as your more and... and your dad are concerned." "My dad?"
Peter's dark eyes challenged Gideon to try to apply that designation to
himself.  Just try.  But when Gideon wouldn't take the bait, the boy
shrugged it off. "My dad's not concerned about anything anymore.  He's
dead.  You can bet if he was here" -- "He's not."  Gideon traded a hiked
brow for Peter's glare. "So, you wanna do a sweat with your grandfather
and me or not.9" The muscles in Peter's jaw were working just as
vigorously as his hands.  Gideon waited patiently for his answer.
Finally the boy glanced up from his task. "I wouldn't have to be too mad
at you if you wouldn't have to mention anything about be' rag you know
... my father or anything." "It's a deal."  Gideon scraped the sole of
his boot against the edge of the porch as he lowered his foot to the
ground.  -"We go into the sweat simply as three men.  Different
generations,-different experiences, all living in the same world." Arlen
flashed Gideon a glance that sparkled with approval.  "Next time you go
up for chairman, I might just vote for you." In the close, dark heat of
the sweat lodge, Peter learned new ways to pray. They were ways that
were almost as old as the red-hot rocks that were used to make the
steam, but they were new to him.  He took the heat and the smoke in
stride and contributed what prayerful thoughts he could come up with on
the spot without giving too much of himself away.  He'd already been
given away once, and now that Defender' 207 he knew who'd done it, he
wasn't sure he could trust him again.  After all, a guy had ideas, and
then he had thoughts. He'd told his uncle Gideon some stuff, but that
was fore he knew he wasn't really Uncle Gideon.  Well, he was, but he
wasn't.  Either way, things could never again be the way they were.
Which was okay.  He wasn't a kid anymore, and he didn't like it when
people treated him like on~. The trouble was, he felt like a kid
sometimes.  Not often, but sometimes. And when those times came, whose
kid was he going to be? Since nobody was anxious to force anything on
him, he'd been spending a lot of time with his new friends.  He talked
about Tom and Oscar during the sweat, about how he was 'teaching them
how to head a soccer ball and they were showing him how to do the men's
fancy dance.  He told his grandfather and Gideon that they were pretty
cool dudes. What Gideon didn't realize was that Tom Strikes Many had
also given Peter a few political lectures.  Tom had spent long hours
listen' rag to his father bemoan the prospect of qimiting some of the
treaty rights through what Marvin called "Defender's sellout."  The
Strikes Many clan had threatened to file a legal suit, claiming that the
Pine Lake Tribal Counc'd and its chairman couldn't speak for them.  The
federal court had denied their claim. But there were new ideas being
discussed now.  Secret challenges were being issued by another group
opposed to the settlement.  Challenges like, If you've got the guts to
defend your so-called treaty rights in a real court of law, why not
start' out in criminal court?  Why not do what you say you have the
right to do--what the state says no one can do--and that's hunt and fish
out of season or by illegal methods off the reservation in the ceded
territory?  208 Defender It had been done, of course.  But not
blatantly.  And now~ with the settlement in the works, the tribal fish
and game wardens were guarding their jurisdiction closely.  But there
were other jurisdictions. And there were many ways to skin a cat. The
sweat had been good for Gideon.  There had been no talk of politics, for
such was not the purpose of a sweat.  With their tangled relationships
off-limits for discussion, they'd spoken of other things, and they'd
spoken candidly, for in the dark, close, warm womb of the sweat, there
was no other way to speak.  They had shared cares and concerns for those
close to them, for friends and family and the Indian eommunity.  They
had made prayers for wisdom and clear vision. Gideon knew that Raina
would not be happy to learn that Peter had not come home with him.  The
boy had said he'd made plans with his friends, and Gideon chose to
respect that.  But he hoped she would take what communication they'd had
as a positive sign.  Gideon certainly did.  " Now if he could only
figure out how to communicate with Raina.  He called her at the lodge
and asked her to have dinner with him. "I.ike a date," he said
hopefully.  two people who just want to get to know each other.  "

"What's it going to take for us to get to know each other?"

,I don't know.  " Something like a sweat would have been good.  Except
traditionally, men and women didn't go together.  He could see why.

Damn, it was hard to keep out of it.

"I figured I'd get dressed up, though."

She laughed.

"Oh, great.  And me sitting here ing to wear."  ~ Defender 209 "Wear the
dress you had on the first time i saw you this summer.  You looked all
sunshine and flowers."

 "That one isn't very dressy."

"Wear the hat, too.  I loved the hat." She was ready at the appointed
timer and she was listening for the knock on the door.  But when it
came, her body had to jump up pretty fast to keep pace with her heart.
Silly to be nervous, she told herself.  Or overly eager. She'd just been
with him in the most intimate way possible.  For her, anyway. For him,
well, maybe that was a date, and maybe conversation over dinner was an
intimacy.  Who could tell about men? There would be none of that
tonight.  Nothing too personal.  She'd already decided that she wasn't
going to keep him waiting.  She didn't want to have to invite him in, to
have him sit on the bed and watch her comb her hair or put on.  her
shoes.  This was a date. But the doorknob proved to be a tricky meebani.
nm for an unsteady hand, and when she opened the door, the man who stood
before her startled her even more than his quick knock.  He was
physically breathtaking.  His hair seemed thicker and darker, more
luxuriant, than ever, his eyes more penetrating, his lips fuller, his
shoulders broader.  And when had she ever seen him dressed in a sport
jacket?

His smile lit a matching spark in his eyes.

"Hi, yourself." She smiled, too.  She couldn't help it.  Her senses were
instantly, giddily glutted with all things Gideon.

"This is as fancy as I get," he said, sounding almost apologetic.

Along with the brown jacket, he wore a blue chambray shirt, blue jeans
and a wide brown belt.  Very understated.  Very handsome.  The dentalium
choker added a Defender touch of true.  distinction She reached up to
touch it, forgetting all about her plan to remain impersonal. "The
loon's necklace."  Her smile turned wistful as she traced a row of
tubular shel/s with an admiring forefinger.  "The sign of a chief."

"Sign of leadership," he corrected.

"And the loon would have to fight me for it.  I might as well admit
right off, I wore it to impress you."

"I'm impressed."

"So am I."  He braced his shoulder against the door-frame and gave her
an appreciative head-to-toe appraisal.  She'd worn the dress he'd said
he liked, along with a silver bracelet that Peter had given her for
Mother's Day.  She fanned her skirt demurely, flutlming the soft cotton
like a little girl with a brand-aew full-circle skirt. "You look great.
Do I get a kiss?"  He pushed himself away from the door and took her
shoulders.  in his hands.  "Isn't that what people do on dates? Give
each other a kiss at the door?" "That comes at the end," she said,
smiling.  Lord, he looked good enough to eat.

"Like dessert."

"I like to start with dessert."  He lowered his head, and her lips sank
into his for a long, slow, wet, glad-to-be-together kiss.  Their mouths
parted reluctantly, their lower lips lingering to touch a little longer,
tongues reaching for one more tiny taste.  And their eyes held court
together beyond that, acclaiming the dessert aim appetizer with a silent
mmm.

Finally Gideon glanced at the top of her head and gave a lopsided smile.

"Where's the hat?"

"It's kind of a sun hat."

"I'm kind of a sucker for sun hats." Defender With a light, feminine
laugh she took the hat down fi the closet shelf and let him put it on
for her.  It was jt~ hat, she told herself. Nothing too personal.
Neither was way he winked at her and flipped the petals on the big s'
flower that was tacked to the hat band. He'd made reservations at the
most exclusive restaur on the lake, one that was not on tribal land.
They w seated at a table near the fireplace.  Not far away, the din,
room's huge windows overlooked the lake, its blue wa~ glistening in the
summer's evening sunlight. They.  talked about the day each of them had
had in 1 comfortable conversational tones of two people who v~ more than
friends, who shared more than a backyard fer or acquaintances in common.
She was pleased to hear abe the reception he'd gotten at Arlen's.  Even
though i couldn't tell her what was said in the sweat, he was able
convey the sense of renewal that had pervaded.  He knew i had a long way
to go with Peter and that it would take ti~ to.  regain the boy's trust.
But he believed he'd made astm Then he learned that in a single day she
had been pron ised a teaching contract, put her house on the market a~
looked at several houses that would be available for rtn when school
started.

"Nothing I'm crazy about," she said with a shrug.

"B~ who knows?  Once the house sells, I might just decide to b~
something here and fix it up to my liking."

"That's what I did.

"Course, I don't know much about stuff like decorating." She planted her
elbow at the edge of the table, rested he chin on the back of her hand
and smiled warmly.

"You house is very comfortable.

It suits you perfectly.  "

"What would you do to it, if you were going to, say, fb it up to your
liking?"

 212 Defender "I might add on so I could open up the kitchen more.  Do
that whole great room thing.  The fireplace would be a real focal point.
I Yrke the woodwork and the stone.  I like the North Woods feel."  She
glanced at the rafters and considered more possibilities as she reached
for her water glass.  "I'd put some flower beds in, maybe a deck.  I
love the porch ."  ' He caught her' hand in his and turned her wrist
slowly, inspecting her bracelet.  It had a single silver charm attached.
"What does this say?"  He tilted the small, shiny cutout toward the
flame that flickered within the amber votive cup in the middle of the
table.  It took a moment to decipher the words in the dim light, but
finally he lo~ked up, smiling.

"So you're

"Number One More." " " My last Mother's Day present.   " She glanced
away, her cheeks flushing. ~" I mean, most recent.   "

"There'll be more."  He pressed her hand between his, massaging palm to
palm.

"I've never thanked you, Ralna.  Seeing him now, seeing the fine,
healthy young man you're raising... I want to thank you."

"I'm his mother."  Her tone was as level as the look she gave him.

"I think.  I hope I've done what good mothers do.  Thank.  ~ aren't""
Necessary, I know.  " He rubbed his thumb over the link.~ of the
bracelet. "He thanked you with this.  And I'm thanking you."  He shook
his head, chuckling as he tore his eyes from the bracelet.

"I gotta tell you, you know what I thought?"

"What?"

"I thought this was probably something Jared had given you, and maybe it
said

"I love you' or something, and I thought..."  He looked into her eyes,
lingering uncertainty Defender 213 muting his voice.

"I thought, this woman's trying to tell me something."

"I do have gifts from Jared.  Keepsakes and memories."  But it was
Gideon's hands that warmed hers now, his thumb ca~'mg the soft side of
her wrist.

"He did love me, you know."

"I know."

"And I loved him."

"I know that, too."

"So did Peter."

Gideon nodded.  They sat there for a long, quiet moment, holding hands
across the table.  There was such an aura about them that the walter
bypassed them twice, reluctant to offer menus until the mood at the
table changed.

"Ralna," Gideon began finally.

"What you said about the way ~ is shaping up to be like a custody battle
in a divorce..."  He lifted his eyes to hers, probing deeply, earnestly.
"It shouldn't be like that, I mean, why should Peter be part of that
kind of tug-of-war when there's been no divorce?"  With gentle urgency
he squeezed her hand. "You know, we... when we put ourselves into it, we
really get along fine. What I mean to say is, if we" -- A restive murmur
spreading from table to table drew their attention from their own little
world.  Around the room other curious heads were popping up the same
way.  One of the walters was hastily drawing the drapes, while a couple
of people stood haft out of their chairs, trying to get a peek before
the view was cut off.  A tide of noise seemed to be building outside.  -
The buzz level in the dining room was also on the rise, along with
growing disquiet. Gideon signaled the walter who had been patiently
waiting for a break in their t~te-~-t~te.  "what's going on?"

 214 Defender The young man handed Raina an open menu.

"Just a little commotion at the boat landing."

Distracted, Gideon ignored the menu he was offered.  "What kind of
commotion?"

The dining room supervisor pa u~ed on his way back from the window.
"We'll do our best to see that the disturbance doesn't interfere with
your dinner, sir." Gideon rose from his chair as the white-haired man in
charge hurried away. He turned to the young waiter, who had already
assumed the proper pose--hands clasped behind his back--for his
presentation of the evening specials. "What's going on out there?"

The waiter chafed at the question.

"I don't exactly know how to say this without, uh... What it looks like
is some kind of a protest or something.  Some Indians and, you know,
some... other guys sort of yelling" -- "" Don't go away," Gideon told
Raina.  He. dropped his cloth napkin on top of the silverware next to
his plate.

"I'll check it out, and I'll be right back."

Raina tried to wait.  She knew the best course was to stay out of the
way. The voices sounded angry, and they were getting angrier by the
second.  She heard one of the waiters say that the police had been
called.  Then she heard another one mention that there were teenagers
involved.

"Just a bunch of Indian kids, got caught using spears."

Someone else laughed and added,

"They probably didn't even catch anything."

Raina was out the door in a heartbeat.  She walked quickly, homing in on
the shouting. At first all she saw was a crowd of fuming people, mostly
men wearing baseball caps, some carrying placards, and some brandishing
what looked like bu~a.  per stickers.  She saw a few red-slashed circles
containing images of nets and Defender 215 spears.  Great form of
expression, she thought.  What happened to the peace sign?  She didn't
see any

"I-heart-Indians."

The bend in the shoreline suddenly afforded her a view of the far end of
the boat landing.  Her stride went from a walk to a trot when she got
her first glimpse of the little group the protestors had surrounded.  It
wasn't just teenagers.  Marvin Strikes Many and four other men had
landed at the big public dock in two boats.  But among the younger faces
Raina recognized were Peter and his friends, Oscar and Tom. The
confrontation was-quickly escalating toward violence.  Each side was
doing its best to shout the other down, and Gideon was trying to muscle
his way into the center of it all. "Get back on the boats," Gideon
shouted.  Then, to the sign-carriers, "Listen, you people, the police
have been called.  Why don't you just back off and" -- The answers came
from the crowd, which had become a single entity, a mindless animal with
numerous mouths. "We're staying right here until somebody gets here to
investigate."  ' "Nobody gets off this dock now!" "Did somebody call the
game wardens, too?  Tell 'em to come see for themselves what these
people are up to." "We got a treaty that says your state wardens got no
say," Marvin Strikes Many shouted.

"And we've also got a right to use the public landing," his son put in.

Gideon waved his arm as he pushed his way to the fore.  "Would you guys
just settle down"  216 Defender "We got a right to see what you think
you got a right to take out of this lake," one of the bumper-sticker
wavers said. "Yeah, and what methods you're using."  The crowd surged
like an inchworm, its body gaining a few planks' worth of dock space.

"Look, they've got spears!"  "They got spears, and they got nets!"

"Where's the media when they could do some good?"  "They'll be here."
"This isn't Wisconsin.  Damn Indiaus'took over on the fishing there, but
nobody's getting' away with that here."

"Hell, you know what they say over there," one of the mouths shouted.

"Save a walleye, spear a squaw!"

"Hey, spear a pregnant squaw, save two walleye!"

The threat stabbed Raina in the stomach.  Real, physical pain.  She felt
sick.  She was close enough now to see the fear in Peter's eyes. He'd
suffered some stares, some thoughtless, ignorant remarks in his young
life, but nothing like this.  And Raina had felt a mother's pain at
cruelties perpetrated on her child, but this, this was insufferable. Her
rage was bigger than she was, and she about to leave some claw marks on
somebody. All she could see was Peter, and all she sought was a way to
get to him.  He was scared, but he wasn't cowed by the 'threats.  And
when he saw her running up the wooden steps, he was afraid only for his
mother. "Mom!  Stay back!  I'll be okay, we're just" -- "Morn?"  The
aniraal's myriad eyes shifted her way, and one of its mouths laughed.
"How'd you whelp an~hing that dark, lady?  You oughta he" -- The anger
welled deep in her throat as she clawed her way through the belly of the
animal. She saw no faces.  She had no inly rest in names. She had blood
in her eye and bile in her Defender 217 throat.  She was going to reach
her son, and the hairy arms and knobby knees were going to get out of
her way. The calm summer evening was no more.  The clear sky was ugly
with murky bedlam.  The air crackled with explosive charges.  Raina had
no sense of herself anymore; She was a she-wolf, and her pup was behind
a wall of cruel, sweaty bodies.  The shouts came fast and furious now,
but only a few penetrated her red rage.

"Raina, don't!"

"Mom!" "That kid's got some kind of spear!"  ~ The violence erupted so
suddenly that it was hard to recount the incident later.  No one was
supposed to he armed. There was not supposed to he any physical contact.
The protesters had all agreed. Even the man who drew the pistol claimed
later that he didn't even realize it was in his hand.  There was a lot
of pushing and shoving, a boy with a weapon, and everybody was mad.
Everybody was just plain damn mad.

And madness reigned.

Raina saw it all in bleary, smeary slow motion.  Peter was on one side.
A gun appeared on the other.  The din turned into background noise for
her scream when Gideon lunged for the gun.  It sounded like a car
backfiring, startling but unremarkable until Gideon's big body fell
across the gunman, like a defensive tackle flattening the opposing
quarterback.  Both sides shrank back as the two men came thudding down
on the wooden planking.

Shouts of

"Look out!  They're shooting!"  and "Somebody's shot!"  threw the mob
into a panic.  Raina's wrath and fear injected her with the physical
strength to push her way past the jostling bodies.

"Somebody call the police!"

 218 Defender "Somebody call an ambulance!"

"Somebody call 911!"

But the shriek of sirens already filled the air. Raina reached Gideon
just as Marvin Strikes Many went down on his knees next to him, calling
his name. Pinned beneath his victim, the gunman was wild-eyed, blood
vessels bulging in his forehead.

"Get him up!  The gun went off!  The gun just went off on me!"

Marvin helped Raina pull Gideon onto her lap.  His eyes were closed, but
she could feel the pulse in his neck.  His arm slid away from his body,
pulling his jacket open.  The front of his shirt was soaked with blood.

"Oh, God, get some help!  Please!"

"Open his shirt up," Marvin ordered.  He pulled his own T-shirt over his
head and wadded it into a compress. Raina tore at the front of Gideon's
shirt, crooning to him as her fingers ~ about their task.

"Gideon, can you hear me?  It's going to be all right."

Her eyes met Marvin's as he pressed the cloth against Gideon's side.

The eyes of an ally.  The caring hands of a friend.

"Hold it tight,"

she pleaded.

"You hold h/m tight," Marvin advised hoarsely.

"He saved that boy.

Don't you let him go.  " She leaned over him protectively, cradling his
head in her arm, rubbing her lips over his forehead.

"I won't," she whispered.

"I'm staying with you, Gideon.  I'm holding on.  You hold on, too,
okay?" The gtmman scrambled away, but he was met by a policeman before
he reached the end of the dock.  The gun lay close by.  Raina's
peripheral vision clouded.  Shock dimmed her awareness of people milling
around, closing in, moving away.  Shock permeated the crowd.  It was
tangible, heavy, stupefying. The hot scene had suddenly shattered, and
the Defender 219 mob had broken into jagged shards.  The people who came
with the sirens seemed to flow into the cracks, rounding up the pieces.

"More!  He's not gonna die, is he?"

Raina blinked back the tears as she reached for her son's arm.

"Peter, are you all right?"

"That guy was gonna shoot me.  We'd been praying on our way over with...
All I had was this."  Peter knelt near Gideon's head.  The object in his
outstretched hand was a small ce~-caaonial pipe. "Oh, God, there wasn't
supposed to be any fighting," he said as he touched Gideon's cheek.
"Morn, that gun was aimed at me.  He saved my life, and now he's hurt
bad." Raina understood the plea in her son's voice.  Do something, Mom.
And because her hands were busy doing what they could, she leaned across
Gideon's face, touched her forehead to Peter's and whispered,

"I'm praying for him.  How about you?"  She felt his nod.

"Who is he?"  abystander asked.

"Is that Gideon Defender?"

"Defender?  Isn't he the m~al chief" The white dentalium shells lay
against the ridge of his collar bone in stark contrast with his skin.

"The ambulance is here."  A uniformed policeman knelt beside Marvin.

"The paramedics will he able to help him." "I'm staying with him," Raina
told the next pair of shoes.  They were black. Her eyes traveled up the
black pants, over the paramedic's sleeve patch, to a woman's sympathetic
eyes.

"He needs me," Raina said.

"I have to he with him." "That's fine."  The paramedic star led checking
vital signs.  "You did fine. You slowed the bleeding.  We'll help him
now."  220 Defender A stretcher appeared, along with more uniforms and
the hands of people trying to take Gideon from her.

"You can fide with him," one of them told her.

"Axe you " Peter!  " He was gone.  Raina turned to the woman with the
kind eyes.

"Get my son.  Please.  I can't leave my son."

"The police are taking care of--'~ " No, you don't understand.   He's
only twelve.   He"-- " I'll look after Peter," Marvin promised.   He
stepped back as Gideon's large, limp body was moved to the stretcher.

"You go with the chairman.  You see they take care of him."

Chapter 12 Raina dimbea into the ambulance behind the stretcher.
Someone told her to keep talking to him, which she did.  He was going to
be all right, she promised quietly.  The doe ton would take care of him.
She stroked his hair.  The sirens, the flashing lights and the measures
taken by the paramedics all dimmed for her when he turned his head
toward the sound of her voice.

"Raina?"  He struggled against the strap that immobilized his arm.

"Where's Peter?  Is he okay?" "Peter's fine."  She ran her hand along
the length of his arm, found his hand and held it tight.

"You took the bullet that was meant for him."

"Chimau... ni... do," he muttered, drifting.

"Thank God."

"We're going to have to get that necklace off him," one of the
paramedics said.

"Does it matter if we cut it?"  "Yes, it matters,"

Raina said.  She slid her hand under the  222 Defender back of his
neck, found the leather fie and pulled it loose.

"I'll take care of this for you, Gideon.  Okay?"

He groaned.

She closed her eyes and brushed her lips against his temple, whispering,

"Can you hear me, darling?"  No response.  "Please know that I loire
you." At the local clinic a yawning garage door admitted the ambulance,
and several people dressed in white were there to meet them.  Gideon's
stretcher soon disappeared behind double doors.  Carl Earlie came
running down the hall-just as the doors swung shut.

"How is he?"

"He's been shot."

"I heard."

"He's terribly hurt.  His side" -- Raina gripped her own side and
noticed the blood on her skirt for the first time.  Gideon's precious
blood, spilled in such large drops owr the yards of soft pastel field
flowers he'd asked her to wear for him.  She looked up at his friend,
whose eyes matched hers for near panic.

"I don't know."

"Is he conscious?"

"He was for a minute.  He asked about Peter."

"I got there when they were rounding people up.  I charge of the boy."

"Rounding people up?  You mean the man with the gun?"

"They got him, yeah.  And some other arrests were made."

"Peter?"

"Marvin and some other guys, but I've got Peter.  And I sent somebody
out to Arlen's place to get the old man.  He's family."

One of the women in white came barreling through the doors again.

"Mrs.  Defender.*" Defender 223 "Yes."  She glanced meaningfully at
Carl.

"I'm Raina Defender."

"He needs surgery, and we don't have the facilities.  We've got him
stabilized, but something's still bleed' rag The bus leaves right now,"
the woman recited, as though she anticipated some dawdling.

"We'll take next of kin, but we're moving fast."

So was Raina.  She clutched the shell necklace to her breast.  It was
all she carried. "My purse is at the restaurant, but Peter hasp key to
Gideon's house.  I should" -- "You should be with the chief.  We'll be
along, too, but you" -- He lifted his hand beseechingly.

"You stay right with him."

"Bring Peter," she said over her shoulder, and she followed the woman in
white. Gideon's condition was critical.  He was flown by helicopter to
the nearest hospital of any size, which was in Duluth.  Raina wailed,
taking the calls that came from Gideon's secretary, Judge Half and
others.  No word yet.  She would let them know.  Tell everyone to stay
calm. Carl called from Gideon's house.  Before he put Peter on the
phone, he told her that Arlen had just gotten there, and they would be
on their way soon. Peter said he could just see the sun coming up, and
it made him think everything would be okay.  Raina permitted herself a
hopeful smile.  She'd lost all track of time.  She wasn't even sure how
far Duluth was from Pine Lake, or how long it might take anyone to drive
there.  But it was good to hear her son's voice telling her that he
believed in the sunrise. When Gideon was brought from the recovery room
to I.  C.  U, Raina was waiting for him.  She was determined to be there
when he woke up. There were moments when she thought he was lucid--when
he looked at her and called her  224 Defender by name--but he was just
as likely to call her Rosie and ask her to get someone on the phone. The
someone's name was usually garbled. Raina had to give him credit for
some kind of subconscious control, for he never called her Tomasina.  At
least, not in English.  She didn't know what he was saying in Ojibwa.  ~
But there were other things that he could not control, mainly his
rebellious stomach.  The nurses assured Raina that it was all part of
the normal response to the anesthesia.  But for a while he was a very
sick man, and she was glad he was oblivious to it all. She was al~o glad
when Arlen and Carl finally brought Peter to the hospital. He was only
allowed to see Gideon for a few minutes, which was just as well. The
monitors, the tubes and bottles, and the sight of one so strong and
vigorous now lying helpless, were distressing to a twelve-year-old boy.
E. specially when, as he said,

"It could have been me.,"

Aden was given permission to perform a pipe ceremony and burn sweet
grass for purification.  Raina found the scent a bit cloying, but it
definitely had a sooth/ag effect on Gideon.  While he rested and Carl
kept vigil outside I. C.  U, Raina had supper with Peter and Arlen in
the hospital cafeteria.  She couldn't rem~nber what she'd eaten in four
hours.  Not much.  The last normal, she remembered seemed.  part of a
distant past, another life, She and Gideon had gone out for dinner
together.  they'd never got tea around to ordering any food. "I guess I
broke the law, Morn."  Peter's hamburger was fast disappearing into his
stomach without being chewed. "I couldn't hit anything with a spear, but
we did use a net, and we did catch some fish.  And that's against
Minnesota law.  But it's a Chippewa treaty right."

Defender 225 Raina nodded, then quietly asked,

"Why did you let him go with them, Arlen?"

Peter was quick to defend his grandfather.

"Nimi-shoo mis didn't know. I didn't ask.  See, it was kind of a civil
disobedience thing, like Martin Luther King, you know?  It was, like; to
make a statement about our rights and stuff.  " The boy shook his head.

"Nobody thought it would turn out the way it did."

"Strikes Manys were t81king to the wrong people."  Ar-len stirred two
teaspoons of sugar into his coffee. "That anglers' club, or whatever
they call themselves.  They have no respect. It's no good to listen to
people who don't know the meaning of respect."

"Respect for what?"  Peter asked.

"Respect for any way that isn't their way.  They see only this much of
the world."  The old man bracketed his eyes with leathery hands,
demonstrating blinders. "They see only their own straight line.  The
rest of the circle is invisible to them." "But Marvin says that we have
to stand up for our rights " And maybe we do. " Arlen glanced at a
fluorescent eeil-ing light. "But the man who's lying up in that room,
bad hurt, that's the man who was chosen to speak for us.  To go behind
his back and make plans with people who shout in our faces and call our
women 'squaws' and threaten to spear them" -- Raina grimaced.

"You don't think they mean that, do you?"

"Is it supposed to he a joke?  Is that what makes them laugh?"  The old
man shook his head in amazement. "No wonder they don't understand Indian
humor."  Then he  226 Defender tested her with,

"Do you think they meant to shoot the chairman?"

"I think that guy meant to shoot me," Peter said around a mouthful of
sesame-seed bun. Raina recalled the-scene on the boat dock--the rising
heat, the growing tension, the words shooting like missiles.  "It was a
mob.  It was terrible, totally irrational.  It felt like ... something
inhuman.

Evil, maybe:' And she r~ membered Gideon's mission.

"This is what the attempt to reach a settlement is all about.  This is
what' Gideon hoped to avoid by offering to compromise."

Arlen ignored her observation.

"What do the doctors say?" "That he's a very strong man.  That 'barring
any unforeseen complications," he should pull through.  " Raina touched
Peter's arm. "He's going to be all right.  I'm sure of " That bossy
secretary of his wants you to call her as soon as he's well enough to
talk about tribal business," Arlen said. "She seems to think the Pine
Lake Chippewa will be on hold until their chairman speaks.  Since' they
don't want ns in his room too much, I'm going to stay with my grandson
at Pine lake, if that's all right with you.

There's a telephone at his.  at Gideon's house.  "

"Of course."

Arlen smiled gently.

"When he speaks, you must call us, too." Raina nodded, as she struggled
to recall the right phrase.  "My braiifs turned to mush.  How do you say
'thank you' in Ojibwa?"

With a nod Arlen deferred to Peter.

"Mii gwech," the boy told his mother.  She repeated the words to Arlen.
Defender 227 She lowered the guard rail and rested her head in her arms
on the side of Gideon's bed, her face near his hand.  It was the
familiar heads-down-on-your-desks posture.  She had given the command
many times, but it had been a long time since she'd assumed the position
herself.  She only wanted to close her eyes for a few minuges, and this
was as good a way as any.  The IV was stuck in his other arm. This arm
was free.  She could stay close to it.  If it moved the slightest bit,
she would know.  ~ But when it did, she was dozing, drifting on a
cloud-white sheet draped over a wooden lift-top desk in her first-grade
classroom~ She was only half listening to Mrs. Wrist's reading of a
story called "The Loon's Necklace."  Oddly, her teacher called the loon
rnahng. She could feel Mrs. Wrist's fingers combing through her hair,
and she could hear her watch going beep-beep-beep~ But she wanted to
keep her eyes closed. She really didn't want to answer when her name was
called.

"Raina?"

The voice was deep and painfully raspy.  It hardly sounded like the
voice of Mrs .  Her hair sifted through his fingers as she raised her
head.  He couldn't seem to lift his own head off the pillow, but he knew
she was there. He knew her by touch and by smell.  He knew he was alive,
and he knew she was there.  Somewhere.  He heard her call his name, felt
her lips pressed against the backs of his fingers.  He was alive, and
she was there beside him. Her face rose over him like a sleepy morning
sun.  She smiled and brushed her hair back after he'd mussed it up,
waking her.  He had news for her.  She'd never looked more  228
Defender beautiful.  In fact, he would have done some more mussing if
his arm hadn't felt so heavy.

So did his tongue.  Thick and heavy.  He started small.

"Hi, yourself, sleepyhead." "You're the one" -- Muzzy-headed, he didn't
have much voice, wasn't sure where he was except that he was down, and
she was up.

"You must he the one ... sleeping on my bed, Goldilocks."

She smiled at him exultantly, as though he'd just said something
remarkable.

"Sorry."

"You're welcome to my bed... anytime."  He needed to do something about
the needles in his throat, but swallowing didn't seem to he one of his
options.

"Could use a shot of water."

"I'll have to ask.  You've really been sick to your stomach."  She laid
her hand there comfortingly.  He could almost feel her rubbing his
abdomen, sort of off to one side.  "I'll bet you're sore from it." He
felt as though he were probably on the verge of a lot of pain all over.
But mosfiy he felt mummified.  "" Feel ~ I've been on a six-day hinge.
How many has it been?  " " Not to worry.

Less than two.  "

"Where's Peter?" "He's safe, than Its to you.  He's with Arlen."  She
closed her eyes, leaned down and snuggled her face against the side of
his neck.

"He's fine, darling.  He's fine, he's fine."

"Darling?  That's a... first."  Articulating a matter of foggy mind over
heavy matter, to bring his hand up to her face.  He found a damp "Hey,
what's this?"  He felt a shudder slide through "Hmm?  What's this?  Am I
in for some bad" -- His Defender 229 kept getting sanded off at the end.

"Throat's killing me, honey.

Please.  A little water.  " "It's probably from the tubes."  She sat up
and stroked his hair back from his face. "You've had tubes everywhere.
Mouth, nose" -- He started to test out his other arm--to see if he could
do something about sitting up--but she stopped him.

"Careful.  You've still got one in' your arm.  And, um... other places."

"Question is, am I" -- The details were fuzzy, but he re-mambered
hearing gunfire, then feeling a flash of fire somewhere in his gut. "Am
I missing any parts?"  He meant to be funny.  Sort.  of, But she wasn't
smiling.

"What?"

"Your right kidney." "It'll be fine," she told him quickly, but the way
her voice was trembling, he wasn't so sure she was giving it to him
straight. "The doctor says you'll be perfectly, perfectly fine.  People
donate kidneys every day.  They wouldn't take a kidney from a healthy
person and put it into someone else if a person couldn't live a normal,
healthy life with just" -- He lifted the arm that seemed to be the only
part of him he could get working and tried to touch her chin.  The back
of his hand slid over her breast.  She grabbed it before it retreated
ignominiously back to the bed and held it close to her heart.  Her dress
felt smooth and soft.  The same one she'd worn to the restaurant.  Two
days, he was thinking, same dress?  How un-Raina of her.

But he asked,

"What else?" "That's all.  That's enough."  She squeezed his hand tight
and tucked it possessively between her breasts.  Just where it wanted to
be.

"We almost lost you."  .

"We?"  You almost lost me?  You and.  "We almost lost ... Peter."  Now
he remembered where the gun had been  230 Defender pointed.  He
remembered his own insides freezing up in that horrifying, endless
moment before the gun had been fired. "He was here earlier.  They
wouldn't let him stay long, and anyway, kids... You know?  He got a
little..."  She scanned the small room, which was crammed with
equipment.  "All this is a little scary.  Especially after he saw you
get..."  She pressed her lips together tightly and blinked furiously.

"He's not hurt?"

She shook her head. "Then what's to cry about?"  He managed a wan smile.
"You haven't been cryin' like this ever since" -- She shook her head
even more vigorously, half laughing as she lifted her hand to her face.
But his, energized by her emotion, got there first.  His weary eyes held
hers as he caught a tear, then licked it like cake frosting from his
fin-get. "Thirstier 'n hell," he said in his hoarse voice, and she gave
a teary laugh: "Sure nothing important's missing?"  Lips pressed
together, she nodded, her eyes glistening merrily through her tears.

"Did you check?"

"Not yet," she whispered.

"Later, then."  He closed his eyes.

"They got me on some kind of fairy dust, don't they?"

"Mmm-hmm."  Her soft, sweet voice came closer.

"So you don't hurt so much."

"Don't feel much e~eept tired."

"Sleep, then."

"Don't want to.  Not while you're... still here."

"I'll be here when you wake up."  She was toying with his hair again.

He liked it when she did that.

"Before you go back to sleep, I have one more thing to say."

Defender 231 "Better... hurry."

"Mii gwech, Gideon Defender."

Eyes still closed, he did his best to smile.

She felt as though he were slipping away again, and it scared her.

Stay with me another moment, just to make sure.  "Did I say it right?"

"Not quite."  His lips hardly moved.

"Supposed to end with a kiss."

She licked her lips, then used them to moisten his in a tender, loving
way.

"Mii gwech, " he said.

In the next two days there were a flood of flowers and a barrage of
phone calls.  Tlie governor, legislators, congre~-men--Gideon had no
shortage of well-wishers.  His doctor told him that the leas he rested,
the longer it would take him~ to recover, so he agreed to keep the
visitors to a minimum. But he had to let his people know that he was
going to be all right.  He asked to see Carl, Arlen and Rusie as soon as
he was able to sit up.

"One TV camera, one reporter, one microphone," he told Rosie.

"I want to let people see that I'm still kickin'."

"We've got some guys who are all set to go on the warpath, Gideon.

They're fightin' mad.  " "What guys?  Anybody starts talking like that,
you tell them to keep a lid on it.  We can have our day in court without
taking any of our kids spear fishing just to see if we can get somebody
to take a potshot at one of them." He knew he didn't have to tell that
to Carl or Rosie, but he wanted them to relay his message to anyone who
would listen. "I know, I know.  It wasn't supposed to be like that.
Hell, it's never supposed to be like that.  But it doesn't take much of
a spark to light a fuse."  232 Defender He turned to the old man, whose
approval he had re-cenfiy come to covet. "I've done my reading, Arlen. I
know all about Red Cloud's compromises to try to save the Great Sioux
Reserve and the Black Hills.  And I know the Sioux have been in court
over it off and on for nearly a hundred " The Sioux have been offered
money," Arlen reminded him.

"They turned it down."

"They want the land.  And that's what we're trying to get.  Some of the
land back.  A part of the lake where we can take the fish our own way.

The way our more traditional people still remember.  "

"The treaty promises more than that.  But either way, there's going to
be a fight.  Promi.ses are like river water for them.  An endless flow."
Arlen eyed Gideon and gave him that mischievous look that put a youthful
sparkle in his eye.  "Do like the beaver.  Find a way to build a dam."
"Not like the other night.  I don't make a very good dam."  Gideon
touched his side, which was bandaged beneath the cotton hospital robe.

"They put a hole in me real easy."

"And like Judge Half says, there are too few Indians left.  We can't
spare any more.," With a nod Arlen urged,

"Use the courts.  See what they mean by 'justice for all."

" " We will if we have to, Arlen.   We know who we are, don't we?   " He
sought confirmation in each face. "We've been around for a hell of a
long time.  Against some pretty big odds, we're still hangin' in there.
Main thing is, we remember who we are."

"And we teach the children, so they know who they are," Arlen said.

"Cool heads.  Sharp minds.  That's what we need."  Gideon shifted
uncomfortably.  He hated calling for painkillers, but it felt like
something was starting to eat at his raw Defender insides again. "If
this settlement fails, we go to court.  The law's on our side.  You hear
anybody talkin' up the erack-ing-heads warpath, you bring 'em to me."

"What about the guy who did this?"  Carl asked.  Gideon made a cutoff
gesture

"They arrested him." "You know they won't do not bing but" -- "That's
for the court to decide, too."   He managed a fleeting smile.

"We gotta work the program, Carl.  Right?  Do the best we can."

Peter's turn came that afternoon, after Raina had been ordered to "go
across the street to the hotel and sleep off those raccoon eyes." He'd
brought his mother some clothes, but he wasn't staying at the hotel with
her.  Now that Gideon was out of I.  C.  U and out of the woods, Peter
didn't mind saying that he wasn't c.  ~ about hospitais.

"I'm with you," Gideon assured him.

"I can't wait to blow this pop stand."  Then he added,

"Sure has been one hell of a snmmer vacation for your mom, hasn't it?"

Peter avoided Gideon's eyes.

"I know you saved my life.  You took that bullet for me."

"I was going after the gun, not the bullet."  Gideon chuckled. "I was
bigger than he was.  I thought I could take the gun."  When Peter looked
at him as though he were some kind of miracle worker, he protested with,

"You think I'm crazy, or what?"

The boy shook his head.

"I think you're pretty brave."

"I wasn't thinking about being brave.  I wasn't thinking at all.  I
wasn't going to let anyone hurt you was all."

"You weren't even scared," Peter insisted.

"You didn't look seared."  234 Defender "It all happened very fast."
Gideon thought hack, then shook his head.

"No, when I saw that gun I was scared.  I hope you were, too."

"Because guns kill people.  You take the gun away from that scene the
other night, probably nobody would've gotten hurt."  At least, nobody
would have gotten shot.  " He reached for the water bottle bn the bed
table, and Peter fairly leapt to put it in his hand.  Gideon nodded,
gave a quick wink and offered a teasing aside.

"I'm supposed to move around a little."

He was also supposed to drink plenty of water, and he was damn well
determined to do whatever the doctor ordered so he could be on his way.
He downed half the bottle before he continued. "People get mad, they get
a little crazy, too.  You put a gun in some hothead's hand" -- He
snapped his fin-gets.  "That quick, somebody can be dead.  It's too
easy.  Too damned easy." "It wasn't supposed to be like that.  It was
supposed to he like We were standing up for our rights." "We have to do
that, too.  And that can be risky."  Gideon shoved the plastic bottle
aside.

"You have to be careful who you follow, Peter.

You have to lislen to what they say and really think it over.  Maybe
talk to some other people.  " " Like you?  " "Your ?~and father, your
morn.  People who show you how much they care about you by treating you
right."

 "What about you?"

"lust say the word," Gideon offered lighfiy, but his eyes said, I'd lay
down my life for you, son.

"I..."  Peter polished his knees with his palms.

"I don't know what to call you."

Defender 235 "How about just plain Gideon?"  The boy looked up, dubious.

"We'll take it one day at a time, okay?  You take your time figuring out
who I am,"

"I mi~ my... my dad a lot."

"So do I."

"So that's okay, huh?"

"It better he." Paddling with his heels, Peter scooted his chair across
the floor until his knees touched the side of the bed.  Then, awkwardly,
he flopped one arm around Gideon's' middle, pressing his cheek to
Gideon's shoulder.

"I'm glad you're gonna he okay."

"Mii gwech."  Gideon was unaccustomed to the way his throat prickled as
he ruffled Peter's hair.  He had to swallow more than once before he
could come up with a breezy "Careful, ningozis, I'm a wounded man."

"What does that mean?  Ningozis?"

It meant that his shoulders, his hands, his tender side, would always he
at Peter's disposal.

"It means I've already figured out who you are."

When Raina came to the room that evening, she found him dressed in jeans
and a T-shirt and sitting in a chair with' a bed pillow at his back.

"You're up!"

"Dream on, honey.  They just took out the last of the tubes, and I am
one wilted puppy.  Oh, you mean up out of bed."  He gave her a cocky
smile, just to show her how really good he was feeling about his
accomplishment. "Since you're looking so damn sexy today, I thought may
he you were out to seduce me, and I was golma say..."  He eyed her up
and down.  She'd bought herself a new flowered dress,  236 Defender
similar to the other one, but maybe just a little clingier.  "lMmm, I
think I'm getting my, uh... strength back." "That's good news."  She
glanced up at the TV as she pulled a chair close to his. "Yeah, well,
that isn't."  He aimed the remote ~t the local news, clicking it off
with a vengeance. "Some damn re-fired football coach just held court at
a screw-the-Indians rally today.  What gives him any authority to speak
on Indian issues?  Who appointed him lord of the walleye?  What in bell
is be talking about, special privileges? The man owns a million-dollar
house, for.  "Arlen was there, quoting chapter and verse from the
treaties.  Dam~, that old man's got spunk."  Gideon jabbed a finger at
the dark TV screen. "And that jerk's answer is that Arlea's."  under the
influence.  " Under the influence of what?  Time-honored traditional
ways, that's what."  He tossed the remote aside. "Damn
pigskin-for-brains wouldn't know American culture if it kicked him in
the butt.  And Arlen doesn't drink." "I'll say you're getting your
strength back."  She sat next to him, the way they used to on his porch.

"Native American culture," he reiterated, carefully enunciating each
syllable.

"But you do knownS' she said. "And you, re absolu~ right.  The man is
making a bigoted aspersions like that, so I'm sure " You kidding?  Every
damn sports nut in this state will listen to him.  " He scowled. "What
am I talking about.  I'm a sports nut.  I'm a Timberwolves fan even when
they're in the sub-basement, and I can fish the pants off that pin~
head."  ?  Ie a smile Raina's "Without him ~his fly's Defender 237 She
laughed, and because humor always helped his people through the bad
times, so did he. "I have a buyer for the house," she told him.  He
raised his brow appreciatively.  The warmth in his dark eyes was all for
her, but it made her dance away from the subject she had intended to
lead up to.

Evasively, she wondered,

"Do the nurses know that you're going around here barefooted?"

He glanced down at his toes and shrugged.

"You wanna make a note on my chart?" "Didn't they help you get dressed?"
She could think of one in particular who probably would have jumped at
the chance.  The little brunette who jumped to do his every other
bidding.

"Did it all by my lonesome," he said, his tone irresistibly cute.

"You shoulda been here." Now that he was in a good mood again, she had
to avoid his eyes and charge ahead if she was going to get this out.
"Arlen says that since we're moving to Pine Lake, he's not going to ask
for custody of Peter.  You're the only other person who can... press the
issue." "Peter's almost thirteen years old.  It's up to him to do- cide
whether he'll let me be his father after all this t/me.  Not the judge."
Suddenly all anger and all frivolity had disappeared from his quiet,
steady voice.

"I told you I wasn't going to take him from you.  I meant that."

"So he can live with me?" "You're his mother.  There's never been any
question about that as far as I was concerned."  His eyes held hers.
"But there is one question you haven't answered, Raina.  My offer still
stands.  You can both live with me."

"You offered that as the solution to a problem," she reminded him.

"But the problem no longer exists."  238 Defender "So that's it, then?"
he asked tightly.  A frosty glaze slid across his eyes.

"You can sleep with me, but you can't be my wife?  You won't marry me?"

"Why are you asking, Gideon?  You wanted sex" -- she glanced away "--and
we've had sex.  You don't have to..."  No, that was silly.  She knew
very well that that wasn't the reason he was asking. "Why did you pull
away from me sixteen years ago?  Was it because I wasn't ready to" -- "I
wasn't ready," he told her calmly. "I didn't have much to offer you,
Ralna.  Except a good time.  I wanted you. And, God, how I wanted you to
want me.  But for what?  what would you want from me?"

She looked up, pu~.  ling.

He chuckled, remembering. "I couldn't let you know how bad I had it for
you.  A case of the hots, I figured, so I tried to be cool.  Suave, you
know.  Figured if you'd go to bed with me, just once, you'd be mine." He
touched the back of her hand, hoping to loosen her tense grip on the arm
of the chair.

"But I scared you off, didn't I?  I rushed you.

And the hell of it is, I know better than to move too quick.  I can wait
out in the brush for hours, never move a muscle.  Hell, I can stalk a
deer all day long.  " He looked into her eyes.

"You needed more time.  Among other things."

"What other things?"

"The kinds of things I didn't have going for me back then."

"But Jared did," she surmised. "Yeah.  Jared did."  He smiled wistfully.
He'd loved his brother almost as much as.  "I knew you'd like him.  I
knew he'd be just your type."

He laughed and shook his head.

"But, damn my eyes, I introduced you to him, anyway.  Beauty, meet
Prince Charming."

Defender 239 "And then you rode off into the sunset, as I remember."

 "No way," he averted dramatically. "Can't do that scene without a
horse.  I just sort of politely bowed out. Exit Beast."

"I never thought .... " She turned her palm to his.

"I never knew what to think, Gideon."

"About me?  Come on, Ralna."

"Listen, Gideon, you pulled away from me, and you pulled away from
Peter. You say you weren't ready."  Her eyes narrowed, challenging him.
"But now you've been to hell and back, and I have to know why you want
to marry me.  It's not for sex,.  and it'gnot for Peter."  He tried to
pull away again, but she held his hand fast.

"What are you afraid of, Gideon?"

It took him a while to answer, but at last, at long last, he put it into
words that almost surprised him.

"Not being good enough, I guess."

With some difficulty he turned his wounded body in her direction and
affected a lighter tone. "What you see is what you get.  This is it.  A
little banged up at the moment, but I'll heal.  I always do." She
extended her free hand toward his cheek, but he caught it mid path
kissed her fingertips and gave a Jaunty smile. No pity, Raina.  Whether
it's good enough for you now, I don't know, but what you see ain't
half-bad.

"I've got plenty of muscle," he told her.

"You wanna go somewhere?  I can paddle you all the way to Tahiti.  You
want an addition on the house?  I can cut the timber and raise the roof
beams myself.  I'd never let you go hungry.  I'd protect you, defend
you.  Hell, I'd stop a bullet with my" -- She closed her eyes.

"Oh, Gideon."

 240 Defender "You want a child?  I gave you one.  You want another
one? I'll make as many babies with you as you want."  He drew her
closer, and his voice dropped to an intimate hush.  "And I'll give you
so much pleasure in the making that when the pain comes..."  His head
tipped toward her, forehead resting against forehead, and he closed his
eyes against-the wooziness he was be~ inning to feel. "But when it
comes, I'll he there, just the way you stayed with me.  Always. No
matter what kind of pain it is.  I want to be your husband so that I can
be there for the good times and the bad." The last confession pinched
his heart--badly, this time, because everything else was out on the
table, and his heart was completely, absolutely vulnerable.

"What I'm afraid of is that all I can offer won't be good enough."

"Why wouldn't it be?"  she asked, breathless from the beauty of his
vows, praying for just one more. "If you love me."  ' He raised his head
and searched her eyes, wondering whether his whole heartfelt speech had
fallen on deaf ears.

"-That's what I just said, isn't it?  That I love you?"  "You tell me.

Why d you want to marry me?  " " Because I love you.  Because I loved
you when I had no business loving you, and now, here you are with.  " He
caught her face in his hands.  And now there's no reason in the world
why I can't love you.  And I'll be damn good at it, Raina."

She gave him a misty-eyed smile.

"I think you already " Then why are you making me jump through all these
hoops?  " "Because I've already jumped through them for you."  She took
his hand from her face and placed it on her breast.  She moved it over
her racing heartbeat, slipped it over and Defender 241 under the
neckline of her sundress and invited him to feel the hardness of her
nipples. "To me, this means that I love you.  You know that, don't you?
There's no other way for me.  And while my being in love with you was
reason enough for making love..."  Her hand sneaked into his lap, found
his "wilted puppy" and gently caressed him.  She smiled, for it was a
puppy no more.

"The recipe for marriage calls for two people in love."

"Two people making love?" "Two people--one man, one woman--in love with
each other.  That's how you make a marriage." "Looks like we've got the
right ingredients, then."  He figured he'd better get this hand thing
under control before she had him howling.

He enfolded both of hers within both of his~.

"Wanna make one with me?"

She laughed and cried, both at once.

"I surely do." Epilogue The date was set for early October.  Raina had
gotten started in her new school, Peter in his.  Some of the changes
weren't easy to make, but, as Arlen had said, the sooner a person
learned the lesson of the willow, the smoother life's road became.
Flexibility.  Learning when to stand firm and when to bend could keep a
person from breaking. Gideon's ears tuned in to such wisdom wherever he
found it these days.  The fate of the settlement rested with the state
legislature now, for the Pine Lake Chippewa had made their offer.  And
the outcome of the vote, which would be taken a few months down the
road, looked like a toss-up.  The DNR and the attorney general's office
were strongly in favor of the compromise, but those in opposition had
financial clout.  The sportsmen's groups, in particular, had powerful
allies and vocal lobbyists working for them.  In the end, the issue
might very well be decided in federal court.  Either way, Gideon
realized that the fate of the Pine Lake Defender 243 Chippewa lay
exactly where it always had--in the hands of the Chippewa people
themselves and with Chimaunido. For now, on this sunny October day,
beside the sparkling blue waters of Pine Lake and with a blazing
p'mk-and-yellow backdrop of sugar maples, there was a marriage to be
made.  During the feast, the people would launch the bride and groom in
a red canoe, and he would paddle her across the water to their honeymoon
bower--or as far as Tahiti, if that was her wish.  His doctor had
pronounced him fit ~to do anything he felt up to doing, and on this day
he felt ~up to taking his bride to the paradise of her choice. He was
dressed for just such a journey.  He wore jeans, along with moccasins
and a buckskin jacket, both beaded in the traditional floral designs of
the Chippewa.  His hair was pulled back and fled at the nape.  He had
the ring. He was all set.  Except that there was a knot in the dentaiium
shell necklace, and his hands were a little shaky.  Must've had too much
coffee this morning, he told himself. There was a knock at the door of
the room the lodge had provided him for dressing.  Peter stuck his head
inside.  "More wants to know if there's a word in Ojibwa for two
o'clock.," "Tell her the only word we've got for that is Indian time.
When the time is right and the people are ready."  Gideon motioned for
the boy to come in and close the door.

"And I'm ready, except for this damned knot."

Peter looked more than thirl~a years' worth of sharp in his blue blazer
and tan slacks.  He smiled indulgently as he took over on the untying
job.

"You nervous?"

"Do I look nervous?" "You look a little pale."  He gave a quick shrug.
It was the padded shoulders, Gideon thought, that made the boy look 
244 Defender so much older today. "It kinda fits, though, because even
in the sun, Mom's really... We used to call her 'pale face."

 "

" We did?    " Gideon chuckled.

"Maybe we could come up with something more original."

"You can.

"Mom' works for me."

"Did anyone ever tell you that I knew her first?"

Peter glanced up from the slow-yielding knot.

"Knew her?" "Met her first.  Went out with her first.  And, no, don't
ask any more than that, because a guy never discusses his private
moments with his lady with anyone else."  Gideon nodded instructively.
It was becoming a habit.

"You remember that."

"As far as I'm concerned, my mom's a virgin and always will be."
Displaying his conquest over the knot, Peter's eyes twinkled as he
imitated Gideon's iustmctive tone.

"A guy's room doesn't do that stuff.  You remember that."

"I'll be good to her, Peter.  I do love her, with all my " Sillck!  Who
turned on the oldies station?  " Peter chpped a hand over the pocket of
his blazer and crooned, "With aaaall my hearrrrt."  Then he cut Gideon a
meaningful look.  "You'd better be good to her, with all your heart and
whatever else you got." "Gotcha.  You wanna put that on for me?"  Gideon
asked, seating him~lf on the bed to make the job easier.

"I seem to be all thumbs."

Peter draped the necklace in place. "I feel like the mother of the
bride," he muttered, and they both laughed. Then an unsettled quiet fell
over them.

"You got a best man?"  Gideon shook his head, but damn, he was hoping.

Peter tucked the tied ends of the necklace under the back of Gideon's
collar.

"You want one?"

Defender 245 Gideon cleared his throat.

"You available?"

"Somebody better make sure the ring gets there, nervous as you are."
Rising slowly from the bed, Gideon drew the gold band from his pocket
and pressed it into the hollow of Peter's palm.  He wasn't sure he could
have said anything if he tried.  His chest was full to bursting with
love and pride,.  Maybe that sounded like the oldies station, too, but
there was no other way to put it.

Peter looked up, his eyes filled with tears.

"It's like I'm filling in for Dad.  if he was here, this would be his
job, because he was your brother."

Gideon nodded once.

"If your father were here, this wedding wouldn't be taking place."

"You know what?  I think my dad's here in spirit."  He glanced away.

"But I feel like my father's here in the flesh, too." Gideon's arm went
around the boy's shoulders.  He closed his eyes and gripped a fistful of
shoulder pad.

Peter pressed his cheek against the soft leather jacket.

"It sounds confusing," he said, "but in.my head, it works okay."

"Works great for me, too."

Then he saw Raina through the window, standing On the grass below. She
was wearing a long-sleeved, soft mhite cotton dress, scattered with
pastel field flowers.  The gentle breeze lifted the long skirt and made
it flu tier as she walked.  A broad-brimmed hat shaded her face.  One of
the girls from her class at school came running after her with a bouquet
of wildflowers.  She turned, took the flowers, then took the girl's
hand.  ~' "We're late," Peter warned.

"But not too late.  God, she's beautiful."

 246 Defender And then they were on ~heir way out the door. "One thing
you gotta learn about Mom.  She's always there when she says she will
be."

Gideon smiled.

"Then from now on, my time is her time." Author Note Pine Lake
Reservation and the Pine Lake Band of Chippewa are purely fictitious.
The Anishinabe, or Chippewa bands (many of whom prefer the name Ojibwa
or Ojibwe), are an indigenous people of the Upper Great Lakes Region.
Even though I chose to create a fictitious band, many readers will
recognize that the issues with regard to Native American treaty rights,
especially as they apply to fishing rights, are genuine concerns.  The
conflict between some Native American tribes (those who are
traditionally fishermen) and non-Indian groups (among them some
organiza-tious formed to promulgate sport-fishing interests) came to a
head in the 1970s in the Northwest, in Michigan and in Wisconsin, as a
result of a series of federal court deem ions reaffirming the fishing
rights of Indian tribes guaranteed by treaty. For the sake of
authenticity, I have used the more recent controversy in Minnesota as
the model for my story.  In the  248 Defender hoPe of avoiding the kind
of violence that occurred in other parts of the country, the Mille Lacs
Band of Chippewa negotiated a proposed out-of-court settlement, backed
by the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources and the state attorney
general's office.  Under pressure from various special interest groups,
particularly sportsmen's groups, the state legislature rejected the
compromise.

The issue will likely be tested in federal court in the near future.

It should be noted that the vast majority of people who enjoy fishing as
a sport have no interest in interfering with the relatively few Native
Americans who seek to exercise their treaty rights.  Typically,
non-Indians who question the validity of treaty rights do so because
they have limited knowledge of their historical background, along with
limited understanding of and respect for Native American culture and its
values.  Historically, movements to abrogate Indian treaties have been
fueled for the most part by a common motive, and that has been greed. ~-
Merline Lovelace's Because love is a risky business.  Go undercover
again in August 1996 as this exciting mini-series continues with

THE COWBOY AND

THE COSSACK

Nate Sloan was pure Wyoming cowboy--and one hell of an Omega agent!

His latest mission seemed simple enough--but he hadn't counted on
Russian beauty Alexandra Jordan.  If he had, he would have known the
stakes included his heart.

Return to active duty in September 1996 with:

UNDERCOVER MAN

lttlOUFllE Your only choice for non-stop excitement!

Avai/ab/e from WH Smith, John Menzies, Vo/urne One, Forbuoys, Martins,
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escape and is brought to you by three of Silhouette's favourite authors:
Ann Major Laura Parker Mary Lynn Baxter Available.  " July 1996 /'
ILI-iOUi:TTI::* Price."  4 pounds 99 pence Available J7om WH Smith, John
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and other paperback sto~kists.

' L.  OuETTe

COMING NEXT MONTH

THE HEART OF DEVIN MACKADE

Nora Roberts The MacKade Brothers For twelve years Devin MacKade had
played the dependable friend, had watched the' woman he loved married to
another man.  Well, she was free now and he was tired of waiting. He
wasn't'sure either of them was ready for him to just toss her over his
shoulder and carry her off.  But soon.

THE COWBOY AND THE COSSACK

Merline Lovelace Code Name: Danger Alexandra Jordan's late grandfather's
Russian tribe were short on weapons and men/ So when agent Nate Sloan
showed up, she was suspicious of his obvious charm.  Nate was after
Alexandra, all right--for the crucial coding devices she had inherited.
Captivating her was in his own best interests and his patriotic duty,
too!

~ILHOUFTTF

COMING NEXT MONTH THE RETURN OF EDEN McCALL Judith Duncan Wide Open
Spaces Eden McCall was amazed to discover that she was still crazy about
rugged loner Brodie Malone. But a man like Brodie didn't forgive.  He
didn't forget either.  Not the heartache--and not the passion. Eden had
a daughter who needed her now.  She couldn't get caught up in memories.

OUR CHILD?

Sally Tyler Hayes Drew Delaney had a lead on a kidnapping case that was
going to take him back in time ten years to when he was in love and life
was simple.  He was going to have to find his old flame.  Carolyn McKay
had a terrible fear, the fear that this man she'd never stopped loving
would learn of the child she'd never told him was his.

COMING NEXT MONTH FROM

Intrigue Danger, deception and desire CRIME OF PASSION Maggie Ferguson A
KILLER SMILE Laura Kenner THE VAGABOND Alexandra Sellers MIDNIGHT KISS
Rebecca York Special Edition Satisfying romances packed with emotion
SISTERS Penny Richards TOO MANY MUMS Cathy Gillen Thacker BUCHANAN'S
BABY Pamela Toth FOR LOVE OF HER CHILD Tracy Sinclair THE REFORMER Diana
Whitney PLAYING DAODY Lorraine Carroll Desire Provocative, sensual love
stores for the woman of today THE BEAUTY, THE BEAST ANO THE BABY Dixie
E~rowning THE LAST GROOM ON EARTH Kristin James RIDGE: THE AVENGER
Leanne Banks SUTTON'S WAY Diana Palmer ZOE AND THE BEST MAN Carale Buck
JUST A MEMORY AWAY Helen R.  Myers The baby is adorable.  but which man
is the father? Three bachelors find their lives turned upside down when
a baby is left on their doorstep.

Which one of them is the father?

Cathy Gillen Thacker asks that aIHmportant question in t~er
heart-warming new trilogy-Too Many Dads June 1996: Baby On The Doorstep
July 1996: Daddy To The Rescue August 1996: Too Many Mums ILJtOUETTE

SPECIAL EDITION

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PAPER WARDS

ARM MAN

PAIN ON

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BED IIIII

BOX

BACK IIIII

AGE

~IN I'll111

FALL

CHOPPING It1111 ROOM IBtAICI~I' II1-111

~1111 IIIII IIIIII I'1tll I)lease lurn e~er ler details el h(~ t~ enler
I~ tt enter.  There are ten missing words in our grid over leaf Each of
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