A Certain Kind of Hero by Kathleen Eagle Read Free Book Online Page B

in my way,” Gideon said calmly.
    â€œNo, 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 be a royal pain sometimes. He couldn’t walk away and leave Raina and the boys with the boat as long as these guys werestanding there. He was going 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, the 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.
    â€œYou 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.”
    Bill’s uniform probably had something to do with the way the small crowd parted for him. “You boys have a problem with that?”
    â€œNo problem at all,” the Redskins fan said, “unless they’re taking more than their rightful limit.”
    â€œHow does that concern you? I don’t see a badge on any of you.”
    â€œI 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 cuttin’ 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 spearfishing, either.”
    â€œYou talk to your legislator about it. You call the attorney general’s office,” Bill suggested. “You don’t bother 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 ’em know what’s comin’ down the pike if they don’t drop this thing. You remember the violence in Wisconsin over the same issue.”
    â€œWe’re trying to avoid the kind of trouble they had over treaty rights in Wisconsin.” Bill glanced his friend’s way. “Gideon here’s Chippewa. He can go over to Wisconsin and do all the spearfishing and gill netting the law allows.”
    â€œYeah, well, go on over to Wisconsin, then, ’cause you ain’t gettin’ 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 concurrence—a quick glare and another adjustment of the baseball cap—and the four sauntered down the dock toward a club cab four-wheel drive pickup that was parked at the end.
    â€œHis family’s probably been coming up to their summer cabin on the lake for what—two,