Honor Bound(27)

Aislinn knew that he was right, so she said nothing.

"I went straight into law school. I was eager to set up practice, to help keep the Indians from being exploited by mining companies and such. And I did win a few cases, but not nearly enough. I became disillusioned with the legal system, which I found out is as political as anything else in the world. Justice is not blind.

"So I began playing dirty ball, too. I became much more outspoken and critical. I organized the Indian protesters so they would have a louder voice. I staged peaceful demonstrations. My activities only served to win me a reputation as a troublemaker who bore watching. When they had the opportunity to arrest me and lock me up for a long time, they did."

He sat back in his chair and eyed Aislinn stonily. "So there. Are you satisfied now? Did you learn what you wanted to know?"

It was a lengthier speech than she could ever have imagined him making. The missing pieces were easy to fit in. He belonged in neither society, being neither wholly Indian nor wholly Anglo. She knew the slurs he must have been subjected to. Words like "breed" would have been intolerable for a headstrong, proud young man.

He was smart and physically superior. No doubt other Indian discontents looked up to him as their leader and rallied to his side. He became someone the Anglo community feared. Still, she thought, most of Lucas Greywolf's hardships stemmed from his own deep-seated bitterness and stubbornness.

He could have saved himself years in prison by naming the guilty parties. Aislinn could just imagine the granite hardness of his jaw when he refused to answer the authorities' questions.

"You've got a chip on your shoulder," she said candidly.

Surprisingly he smiled, though it was a chilling grin. "You're damned right I do. Now. Not always. When I left the reservation to go to college, I was full of naiveté and high ideals."

"But society did a number on you."

"Go ahead, mock me. I'm used to it."

"Did you ever stop to think that the reason you weren't included wasn't because you are Indian, but because of your less-than-charming personality?"

Again his hand lashed out and caught her wrist. "What do you know about it? Nothing," he growled. "Even your name reeks of your pure Anglo-Saxon blood. Have you ever been invited to a party and plied with liquor just so the others can see how much alcohol an Indian can really tolerate? 'How drunk will he get?' 'Maybe he'll put on a war bonnet and do a dance for us.' 'Where's your bow and arrow, Chief?'"

"Stop it!" She tried to pull her arm free but she couldn't.

Both had stood, though neither noticed. He had her bent at an awkward angle over the table. His teeth were clenched, and though his voice was as smooth as honey, it carried with it a terrible malice. "After you're subjected to that kind of ridicule, you come back and tell me all about that chip on my shoulder, Miss Andrews. You—"

"Lucas!"

His mother's sharp reprimand ended Greywolf's tirade abruptly. He stared deep into Aislinn's eyes for another heartbeat before he dropped her hand and spun around. "He's calling for you," Alice said. Her beautiful eyes sawed back and forth between her son and his captive, as though wary of the sparks she sensed crackling between them. She took Lucas's arm and led him back to the cot.

Aislinn watched them. The top of Alice's head barely reached his shoulder. The arm he settled across her narrow shoulders as they approached the sickbed conveyed affection and tenderness. She couldn't imagine him experiencing those natural human emotions.

"You have to forgive Lucas." Gene Dexter's quiet voice coaxed Aislinn out of her musings.

"Why should I? He's a grown man, accountable for his actions. Bad behavior is inexcusable, no matter the cause of it."

The doctor sighed and poured himself a cup of coffee. "You're right, of course." As he sipped his coffee, he, too, watched the mother and son kneeling at the bedside of the dying man. "I've known Lucas since he was a boy. He's always been angry. Bitter. Alice's mother was Navaho, but Joseph is Apache. Lucas inherited that warrior spirit."

"You've known them that long?"

He nodded. "I came to the reservation fresh out of my year of residency."

"Why?" She blushed when the doctor looked down at her, a smile curving his lips. Good Lord! Was Greywolf's rudeness rubbing off on her? "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

"That's all right. I'm happy to answer." He drew his brows together, collecting his thoughts, carefully choosing his words. "I felt a 'calling,' I guess you might say. I was young and idealistic. I wanted to make a difference, not a lot of money."

"I'm sure you have." She paused before adding, "At least in the lives of Alice and Lucas Greywolf." When she dared to glance at him from the corner of her eye, she saw that he wasn't fooled by her subtle probing.

"I met Alice when she brought Lucas to the clinic with a broken arm. Over the next several weeks we became friends, and I asked if she would be willing to lend me a hand at the clinic. I trained her in nursing skills. We've been working together ever since."

His feelings for Alice Greywolf ran much deeper than those of a doctor for his dedicated nurse, but Aislinn didn't have the opportunity to press him on the issue. Just then Alice turned toward Gene, her lovely face stricken with alarm.