Part 3 (1/2)
”Don't you want to rest the first day?”
”Don't try to put us off. I'm ready to get started.”
Tank wished he could walk away without another word. ”I wasn't expecting you. I have some things to take care of today. I'll be over in the morning.”
Kipp's eyes grew colder. ”How far is this place you have in mind?”
”About a two-hour walk, though it may take longer than two hours with cheechakos along.” Augusta looked blank at the word. ”Greenhorns,” he said. ”We have some pretty challenging terrain to travel.” But not nearly as challenging as working with this group. Tank realized he was taking a perverse pleasure in waiting for their reaction. It was hardly Christian, and he should be ashamed. The guy riled him, big-time. ”We'll camp out a day or two at a time, then come back to our cabins for a day or two and go back.”
Augusta grimaced and looked down at her mudcovered boots. ”My feet already hurt.”
”We saw a couple of bears earlier,” Kipp said.
Tank saw the suspicion in Kipp's narrowed gaze. ”You can find bears just about anywhere in Alaska. But if you want large numbers, we need to go deeper into the bush. I'll be over at six.”
Four.
Janine Walker's office was a no-frills cubicle lined with books that made it smell like a library. The window behind the desk looked out on the Chugach Mountains. Tenacious had been used to describe the thirty-five-year-old female attorney, but Marley would have called Janine Walker tough. She was tough in high school, but college and experience had honed that quality to a barbed edge. Just what she needed. Her brother-in-law would be a formidable foe.
Marley Gillespie eyed her lawyer. ”So the papers have been served?”
Janine nodded. ”Your father took them out himself. Tank wasn't happy. He wants to talk to you. Can you handle him?”
”Of course.” Marley wished she could get her hands on Janine to do something with that freckled, blotchy skin. And that black suit did nothing for her. She should be wearing khaki or army green. Marley folded her hands in her lap and studied her nails. It was time for a manicure. She would have one before she went back to the wilds of Stalwart. And a facial too. She'd need all her strength to withstand Tank La.s.siter. ”What's our next step?”
”The judge has ordered a home study. We can hope it will show Tank is gone too much to be a good father.”
”How long before I can get Brooke and get out of there?”
Janine frowned. ”I've told you this is a long shot, Marley. Most judges are reluctant to strip custody from a biological father.”
Marley's temperature spiked, and she jerked her head up to stare at her attorney. ”He killed my sister,” she said fiercely. ”I won't let him destroy Brooke's life too. Leigh wants me to do this.”
Janine's long face softened. ”Leigh is dead, Marley. You have to accept it.”
This woman understands nothing about love and commitment, Marley thought. Janine was an only child. What did she know of sharing soft giggles in the night with a twin sister, of pacts to support one another forever? Leigh still came in the night, her soft voice begging Marley to save Brooke from Tank. And Marley intended to do just that-even if she had to break the law.
She rose and drew out her car keys. ”Just take care of it, Janine. There'll be a bonus if you can get it done quickly.”
”I may not be able to get it done at all,” Janine said quietly.
Marley didn't answer. She stalked to the door and let herself out into a day overcast with dark clouds that matched her mood. If the law failed her, she'd take it into her own hands.
Haley followed the path beyond the charred cabin to the present dig. Out in the open field, she felt safer. In fact, some of her most pleasant memories were of digging in the dirt with her parents. She stopped and snapped a few pictures of the meadow where she and Chloe used to build snow forts. She found the fis.h.i.+ng spot she and Chloe loved and took photos of that as well. The memorial sc.r.a.pbook she planned was shaping up nicely. And so far, there had been no nightmares. Maybe her shrink was right.
A small cabin stood at the edge of the site. It hadn't been there when she was here last. A man shoveled dirt into a handmade sieve of wired screen in a wood frame, her father's favorite tool for finding small artifacts. She stood and watched him a few minutes. About forty, he had black hair that gleamed in the sun as much as the tanned and perspiring skin of his bare back.
He turned and saw her. His eyes widened, and he raised a hand in greeting. ”Howdy. It's not often I get such lovely company out here.” He grabbed a denim s.h.i.+rt that lay across the wheelbarrow and pulled it on. Still b.u.t.toning it up, he approached her. He wiped his hand on his jeans, then thrust it out. ”Ned Bundle,” he said.
She shook it. ”Haley Walsh.”
His brown eyes studied her. ”Walsh. You must be Grady and Maggie's daughter. You look too much like Maggie not to be related.”
”That's right.” Haley felt tongue-tied at the appreciation in his glance. She suppressed a nervous giggle.
”So sorry about your parents. It was a tragedy. They were brilliant. Thanks to their vision and insight, we know so much more about the first entries of humans into the Americas.” He waved his hand over the site. ”They are a.s.sociated with one of the greatest migratory events of human history-the peopling of the New World. The first Alaskans who created these sites went on to spread across North and South America. As far as Native Americans are concerned, all roads seem to lead back to Alaska. It was the original homeland in the New World.”
Haley blinked, and he laughed. ”Sorry, I'm getting carried away,” he said. ”You can tell it's my pa.s.sion. What are you doing here? Come to take your parents' place on the dig?” He gave a crooked smile full of hope.
”Hardly. I'm a city girl myself. I'm here for the summer to photograph a bear activist. I just wandered over to see where I lived when I was a child.” He didn't need to know more than that. She was quickly discovering her parents hadn't talked about her much. It wasn't likely she'd encounter anyone who knew much about her past.
”Too bad. It gets quite lonely out here. Can I show you around?”
She glanced at her watch. ”Maybe later. The team is likely looking for me. I'd better get back. Nice to meet you.” She could almost hear her father's voice behind Ned's pa.s.sion for his work. She barely touched her fingers to his, then beat a hasty retreat.
She wandered down to the lake and walked out onto the rickety pier. She sat down to watch a family of loons paddle nearby. She and Chloe used to feed the loons here. She snapped some pictures. The memory sharpened as the smell of spruce mixed with the fresh scent of the lake. Oscar crouched nearby like a cat ready to pounce if the loons got close enough.
She curled her legs under her so they wouldn't touch the water. She wasn't sure how to feel about the discovery that she had a half sister. Mostly, she felt numb. At least she'd found out something about her family. Maybe this Joy would be able to tell her more. The next time she saw Tank, she would ask him how to find the girl. She heard a child's voice and turned her head. Oscar left the loons and ran to meet the woman and small girl who approached along the path that skirted the lake. Haley stood as well and dusted off her jeans.
The young woman was near Haley's age and had a friendly, open face. Her dark-brown eyes widened when she saw Haley. ”h.e.l.lo,” she said. ”I hope I'm not disturbing you. Are you fis.h.i.+ng?”
The little girl bent over and tried to pick up Oscar. ”What a cute little dog,” she said. Oscar's tail was wagging hard enough to fall off. He licked the child's face, and she giggled.
”Careful if you pick him up,” Haley warned. ”A dachshund has a weak back. You don't want to drop him.”
”I know,” the girl said. ”I like wiener dogs.”
She talked older than the five- or six-year-old she appeared to be. ”Yes, he is,” Haley said. ”His name is Oscar.”
”Just pet him,” the woman told the child. She turned a friendly smile on Haley. ”I'm Libby La.s.siter.”
La.s.siter. She must be Tank's wife. Haley thought he'd have some Amazon woman to match his size, someone who could chop wood. This woman had curly brown hair that stuck out in all directions. Dressed in jeans, she was tall and slim, and her matching dark eyes looked Haley over with eager friendliness.
Though she wanted to be alone, she mustered a smile. ”I'm Haley Walsh. I'm the photographer for the bear project.”
”Oh, you're the ones who are putting that scowl on my brother's face.” Libby smiled and held out her hand. ”I'm glad to see another woman though.”
Haley shook her hand and mentally catalogued her. Sister, not wife. ”Your little girl is darling.”
”She's my niece, not my daughter. Tank is her daddy.”
So he was married. The little girl's s.h.i.+ny curls hung down her back almost like a raven s.h.i.+rley Temple. She crouched beside the child. ”What's your name, sweetheart?”
”Brooke.” The little girl touched Haley's hair. ”Your hair is like a penny. Coppery. You're very pretty.”
”So are you.” Haley smiled at her. ”You look a lot like your dad.”