Honor Bound(25)

A half hour later, Aislinn felt better. Her arm had been examined and diagnosed as having nothing more than a painful scratch. She had washed at the sink and had used a borrowed hairbrush to untangle her hair. To replace her tattered blouse and dirty jeans, Alice lent her a traditional tunic blouse and long skirt of a Navaho woman, having taken them from a storage trunk against the wall. "It's very kind of you to agree to wait here until … until Father dies."

Aislinn buttoned the blouse. "I expected to be taken to an outlaws's hideout." She glanced toward the bed where both Gene and Greywolf were attending the elderly Indian. "I don't understand why he didn't just tell me why he had escaped."

"My son is often defensive."

"And mistrustful."

Alice briefly laid her hand on Aislinn's arm. "We have some soup that's still hot. Would you like some?"

"Please." Only then did she realize that she was starving. Alice sat at the table with her while she ate. Aislinn used that opportunity to ask questions about Greywolf, questions that had previously piqued her curiosity.

"Am I to understand that he was serving a three-year sentence for a crime he didn't actually commit?"

"Yes," Alice replied. "Lucas was guilty of only one thing—of organizing that demonstration on the steps of the courthouse in Phoenix. He had gone through all the legal channels. He had secured a permit to march. It wasn't supposed to get violent."

"What happened?"

"Some of the marchers, much more militant-minded than Lucas, got rowdy. Before Lucas could regain control, public property was being vandalized and fights had broken out. It resulted in a brawl. Several people, including policemen, were injured."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Because he had already won a reputation as a dissident, Lucas was the first one arrested."

"Why didn't he tell them he was trying to put a stop to the violence?"

"He refused to name the men who were actually responsible. He represented himself at his trial and wouldn't allow anyone else to speak in his defense. But I think that the judge and jury had already made up their minds before the case ever came to trial. There was a lot of media publicity about it. He was found guilty. The sentence was disproportionately severe."

"Wouldn't he have been better off to hire a lawyer to defend him?" Aislinn asked.

Alice smiled. "My son didn't tell you much about himself, did he?" Aislinn shook her head. "He is a lawyer."

Speechlessly Aislinn stared at the other woman. "A lawyer?"

"A disbarred one now," she said sadly. "That's one reason he's so bitter. He wanted to help our people through the legal system. Now he won't be able to."

Aislinn could hardly assimilate everything Alice had told her. It seemed that Mr. Greywolf was more complex than even she had imagined. She glanced at the cot just as he stood and turned toward the table where she was sitting with Alice. Gene Dexter laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You said 'our people,'" Aislinn remarked to Alice. "Your Indian heritage is extremely important to you. Is that why you and Lucas use the name Greywolf?"

"What name should we use?" Alice asked, apparently bewildered by the question.

"Why, Dexter," Aislinn said, equally bewildered. "Isn't Gene Lucas's father?"

Aislinn was met with three stunned stares. Alice's velvety brown eyes were the first to look away. A becoming blush stained her dusky cheeks. Gene Dexter cleared his throat uncomfortably. Greywolf's response was somewhat more abrupt and to the point.

"No, he isn't."





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Chapter 5



"Alice, Joseph is asking for you," Gene said diplomatically. They withdrew, Gene with his arm around Alice's shoulders.

Aislinn wished the proverbial hole would open up and swallow her. "I th-thought since you're only half Indian … I mean…"

"Well you thought wrong." Greywolf dropped into one of the chairs at the table. "What are you still doing here anyway? I thought that by now you would have wheedled Gene into taking you back to civilization."

"He's got better things to do, like taking care of your grandfather."

Balancing his chair on its two back legs, he looked up at her tauntingly. "Or maybe this life of crime has proven to be exciting. Maybe you don't want to go home."

She gave him a fulminating look. "Of course I do. It's just that I'm not as shallow and unfeeling as you seem to think."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that I sympathize with you and your mother. Instead of terrorizing me, holding a knife on me and tying me up, you could have told me why you escaped prison. I would have helped you."

He uttered a sound that could have passed for a laugh. It wasn't a jovial sound, but one laden with skepticism and rebuke.

"A nice, respectable, law-abiding WASP like you, giving aid to an escaped convict, an escaped Indian convict?" His tone was derisive. "I seriously doubt that. Anyway, I couldn't gamble on your kindheartedness. I've learned to be distrustful." The front legs of the chair hit the floor hard, as though punctuating his statement. "Is there any more of that soup?"