Skye Cree 02: The Bones Will Tell (31 page)

“I know.” Skye trailed her fingers down the side of his jaw. “But it’s over now.”

When they got to the door of the little studio, they stood among the rubble of what used to be her tiny little hole-in-the-wall apartment. She looked around at all the damage to her things. Her colorful Fiestaware that had belonged to her mother was pretty much a memory. Various sizes of broken pieces were scattered all over the floor. She glanced over at the fractured stained glass Jodi Cree had so painstakingly crafted so many years earlier.

“We’ll send the stained glass to a professional, Skye. Maybe they’ll be able to repair most of the pieces.”

“We can try. How did you know he’d break into my apartment that night after my speech? Did Kiya show you that?”

“Bits and pieces.
Mostly that and the fact it was evident early on the guy thought he was so much smarter than the rest of us. We had to give him something to make sure he kept fostering that idea.”

“At the risk of this going to your head, planting the journals and the computer was nothing short of brilliant. I never would have thought of leaving my old laptop here either. And changing the password so he’d have no problem getting it to boot up was a shrewd move that the jackass never saw coming. And who knew my notes would ever be of interest to anyone but me. Turns out, Frank De Palo found them fascinating enough to keep reading. And setting up the camera in here was an added stroke that gave us a decided advantage.” She grabbed his shirt again and pulled him into her. “Tell me something, Mr. Ander. Is your offer still open?”

For a minute he wasn’t sure what she meant. But as he studied her violet eyes, he noticed the light come into them. That light gave him sudden hope. “It’s still on the table. I never took it off.”

“Good. Because I want you, all of you, that includes your family, the swanky address, or a boxy home in the country. It doesn’t matter much to me where we live. I guarantee you that wherever you are, I’ll be happy. Because I want to marry you, Josh. We’ll adopt children. We’ll adopt five if that’s what you want.
Because I love you.”

“’Bout time you realized I’m the best thing that ever happened to you since that alleyway.”

A laugh sneaked out. “I’ve known that for months now. I just had to get past some things. I want a Christmas wedding. I think between Lena and Zoe, Velma and your mother, the four of them will be able to put something together that fast. I’m pretty sure Phyllis and Lena will drag me to every wedding boutique in Seattle. And you know what? I’m going to let them. I’m going to look so amazing it’ll blow your socks off at the altar.”

“You blow me away right where I stand now, Skye. Why Christmas? Why then?”

“I don’t know. I like Christmas. It’ll be cold out but we’ll compensate by going somewhere tropical for a honeymoon. Maybe Maui for Kathy Monroe, how’s that sound?”

“Oh, I think I can do better than Hawaii, Skye.”

“You can?”

“How about Saint Kitts?” he asked as he went over to a kitchen drawer by her little stove. He pulled out a travel brochure, waved it toward her.

She eyed the paper in his hand. “How long have you had that stashed there?”

“Since I bought this,” he answered, taking out a box from his jacket pocket. He flipped it open so she could see the diamond solitaire.

She stared at the rock as she bounced on her toes. “I thought you said you walked out without buying it.”

“I lied.”

She held out her left hand. “Then slip it on my finger.”

He picked up her hand, slid it in place. “Marry me, Skye.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “Absolutely. Yes. My answer is yes.”

F
our days before Christmas, the high predicted for Seattle was a chilly fifty-four degrees. But inside the century-old waterfront chapel on Orcas Island, the one-hundred or so guests didn’t seem to mind the north wind or the wintery, gray day. 

The sun might not have been shining. The sky overcast and dreary, but the mood among those waiting for Skye to make her appearance was positively festive.

At the end of the aisle, a nervous Josh waited for his future wife in front of an arched window overlooking the bay. Co-best men, Todd Graham and Tate Brock, stayed busy as they took turns escorting the few late arrivals to their seats.

As flutes soared in the auditorium, a prelude to the main event, Travis stood in the back in the small vestibule waiting while Lena Bowers and Velma Gentry helped Skye with her long flowing feathery veil. At least that’s what they said they intended to do when they’d gone in the room more than an hour earlier.

Feeling tense and overdressed in the tux he’d agree to put on, Travis adjusted the tie again that felt like a noose around his neck. When the door opened to the dressing room and Lena emerged, dabbing at her eyes and holding onto Velma, Travis knew it was time.

At that moment, realization hit him that this was really happening. Although his role might’ve been simple, it was far from easy. In a matter of minutes, he had to take his daughter to Josh. He hoped he could get his feet to move.

When Todd appeared at his elbow, holding out his arm for Lena to take her to her seat, Travis watched as Tate did the same thing with Velma.

Travis heard the flutes change to lilting violin strings and the unmistakable sound of
Ode to Joy
by Beethoven. The music brought a hush to the sanctuary as the noise, laughter, and conversation came to a halt.

The bridesmaids emerged out of the same room where Skye had been locked away to get ready. Wearing matching floor-length coral gowns, the girls giggled as they formed a line to wait their turn at the processional. The youngest went first. Eleven-year-old Ali Crandon started toward the altar. Next, it was fourteen-year-old
Hailey Strickland’s turn, followed by Erin Prescott. Carrying pale pink peonies and a basket of white rose petals, which each one had been tasked to drop their fair share along the way, the girls finally reached the steps to the platform. Like everyone else in the chapel, the teens turned to watch the bride’s approach.

Skye appeared in the doorway to take Travis’s arm. Wearing a strapless gown in ivory silk and lace with a beaded bodice that met in a contoured fit before flaring out, Skye clutched her own bouquet of crimson stargazers interlaced with white roses—and took a deep breath.

Feeling like Cinderella for real, she glanced around to see all the familiar faces sitting in the pews. Pleased to see her side just as crowded as Josh’s, she grinned at Harry and Callie who stood up and smiled at her from five feet away.

Trying not to stare at the crowd before making her way toward Josh, she’d never considered herself a fan of pink. And who knew it came in so many different shades from light to dark? She had to hand it to Phyllis, Lena and Velma though. Turns out, the three women had made excellent wedding planners. 

At the end of the aisle, Josh got his first glimpse of Skye since they’d parted at the rehearsal dinner the night before. His nerves fell away. The air all but backed up in his chest as he took in the vision walking toward him. He had to remember his lungs needed air. 

There was a moment when Travis and Skye reached the altar where his future father-in-law leaned in to him and whispered, “Hurt her and there’ll be nowhere for you to hide. Got it?”

Josh grinned, expecting as much. In an equally low voice, Josh answered back, “No need for that. I don’t intend to ever hurt her.”

“Keep her safe then,” Travis said as he slapped Josh on the back. He slipped Skye’s hand into Josh’s and waited several beats for Chaska
Mingan, one of the Nez Perce elders, to ask him the question.

Chaska stared at his friend, Travis Nakota, long and hard. “Who gives this woman in marriage?”

Travis cleared his throat and said, “Her father does.”

With that, Josh and Skye looked at each other and mounted the steps together.

But before Chaska began reading from what they had prepared just for them, Josh leaned in, wrapped Skye up in his arms, rested his forehead on hers. “Your path is now mine. We walk in like-minded spirit.”

“I know. Two wolves, two hunters, mated for life—running through their own forest and fields of yellow flowers, playing, laughing—loving each other along the way. Forever is the way of the wolf,” Skye said softly as Kiya looked on, intent to watch over both of them.

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The Box of Bones

A Skye Cree Novel

The B
OX OF BONES

Prologue

Twenty years earlier

Fort Lewis, Washington

“Y
ou made soup for dinner? What kind of an idiot woman thinks a man can make a meal outta soup?”

Black-haired beauty, Trisha Danes,
barely out of her teens, had only been married to the twenty-two – year old army corporal for six months. But Trisha had already decided it had been the worst time of her life. How was she supposed to know that Milo got pissed off about everything
before
he’d slipped a twenty-dollar ring on her finger? That’s what she got for marrying somebody she’d only known a short two months.

She
trembled a little at the sound of Milo’s angry tone. Lately he always seemed to be mad about something. And tonight was no exception.

In her best Carolina drawl, she tried to
pacify him. “It’s…not…soup, honey. It’s stew and it has lots of meat and veggies like potatoes and carrots and onions, just like you like,” Trisha pointed out.

“Well, whatever it is
, you made it too damn watery that it looks like soup to me. I can see the bottom of the damn pan,” Milo groused.

That was because she’d tried to stretch all the ingredients. But she didn’t say this to Milo. Instead
she did her best to appease him again and offered, “Okay, okay, no need to get upset. How about I fix you a nice grilled cheese instead? You like those. You can eat it with the…soup.”

“I’m not eating a damned sandwich. A man wants a
real meal when he gets home from working a ten-hour shift not a bunch of cheese on toast.”

Trisha sucked in a
nervous breath. It might be different if Milo had an exhausting job loading trucks for the army from six in the morning until four in the afternoon. But he didn’t. What Milo did was sit on his ass at a desk inputting data into a computer all day, keeping track of shipments coming onto and going off the base. Not exactly grueling work in Trisha’s mind. But she didn’t dare mention that at the moment. She didn’t want to fight. And because of that she went to the refrigerator and dug out the carton of eggs. “How about I scramble you up some of these?”

“Damn it, woman!
That’s breakfast food. I want you to fix me supper. What about that don’t you understand?”

Now was
probably not a good time to remind Milo that they still had another week to go till payday. He could eat a cheese sandwich, or the two scrambled eggs or the watery stew. Honestly though, Trisha was getting mighty tired of Milo’s temper flaring like a volcano over the least little thing like what he had for dinner. Trisha backed away from the fridge as Milo stormed over to the same appliance and yanked the door open to see for himself what was inside.

Trisha wasn’t taking any chances. She
moved three feet away to the counter.

“There’s nothing in her
e but some ketchup, mustard and mayo. We don’t even have a hotdog to throw on the stove. Where the hell is the food?”

It wasn’t like she’d eaten it up herself.
Beginning to shake now with fear that he might take it up a notch, which she’d seen him do lately, she did her best to remind him of their situation. “We have seven dollars in our checking account, Milo. It’s gotta last at least another six days before I can go to the PX. We’ve used up our allotment for food. Look, I’ve got a can of beans in the pantry I can throw in and add it to the stew. That’ll make it a lot thicker.”

But when
Milo slammed the ice-box door shut and wheeled around with fire in his eyes, Trisha knew she was in trouble. “Don’t you dare hit me again! I didn’t move three thousand miles all the way across the country to a place where all it does is rain all the damned time for you to use me as a punching bag every single time you get mad about something! I’m not putting up with you hitting me anymore, Milo.”

“
Oh yeah? Then leave. Get out of my face
and
my house. What good are you anyway? Can’t even fix a damn meal the right way,” he groused.

But when she reached for the keys
, laying out on the counter, to the only vehicle they owned, Milo’s truck, he slapped her hand away. “You ain’t takin’ my pickup. You wanna get out of here? Fine, you walk. You leave with what’s on your back.”

“That’s not right.”

“Yeah, well neither is me coming home and finding a crappy meal on the stove.” With that, he shoved her through the back door. “Now get your ass out of my sight before I decide to smack you.”

“Where am I supposed to go
, Milo?”

“Hey, you wanna leave
? What the hell do I care where you go?” He pushed her onto the narrow porch and then slammed the door shut in her face.

The minute she heard the lock turn on the other side,
Trisha’s shoulders slumped. What was she supposed to do now? She took two steps and started pounding on the door. “At least give me my purse. Come on, Milo. I need my wallet! It has my ID in it.”

When the door cracked open slightly, she had hope. But then Milo tossed her handbag over her head and
it landed on the wet patch of dirt and weedy grass behind her.

“There. Satisfied now? By the way, I took the
checkbook out of it, too. I don’t want you writing hot paper all over town that I’ll have to cover. Now get out of my sight! You knock on this door again and I’ll bash your face in.”

Knowing he would do it, Trisha backed down the steps and ran over to retrieve her p
ocketbook. She brushed off the tan faux leather grain hoping all the grime came off.

It was beginning to get dark
and already chilly for October. The sun dipped in the west over the tips of the evergreens as she made her way through the complex heading to the nearest pay phone, a good half mile away.

She didn’t even have her jacket.
Asshole Milo, she thought, as she tromped off in the direction of the PX. What she had ever seen in the piece of shit, she could only wonder now?

It was time to call her
stepmom, Brandy Sue Grainger, collect back in Charlotte. Trisha hoped the woman accepted the charges. After all, it had been her stepmother who had tried to warn her about marrying Milo. She wished now she’d listened to Brandy. Not only that, Trisha hoped she could talk Brandy Sue into sending her bus fare to get back home. If that didn’t happen, she’d have to hitchhike her way clear across the country. But first, she’d have to wait for Milo to go to work in the morning to go back to the apartment to get her clothes. 

As
Trisha contemplated where she planned to sleep that night, a jeep pulled alongside her with the windows rolled down. That seemed odd to Trisha because she’d been here two months and not a single soul had gone out of their way to be friendly to her.

When the man behind the wheel
brought the car to the side of the road and came to a stop, Trisha stopped walking.

“You need a ride
, honey? It’s awful cold out here and you don’t even have a coat on.”

He seemed nice enough and wow was he ever cute, all that dark hair and all. Maybe her luck
in the man department had turned.

As she opened the passenger door and hopped into the front seat, Trisha
had no way of knowing it was the last ride she would ever take.