Winter's Child by Margaret Coel Read Free Book Online Page B

territory, his wife and child a couple steps behind. He was tall, a little paunch above a silver buffalo belt buckle, a cowboy hat clasped against one thigh. He tossed a backward nod. “This here is my wife, Myra. And this is our daughter, Mary Ann.” He reached over and placed a protective hand on the child’s head.
    Vicky came around the desk and shook the man’s hand first, thepalm roughened and wind-seared. His wife’s palm was softer, the grip surprisingly strong and resolute. “Hello, Mary Ann,” she said, leaning down toward the pretty little girl, who lifted a hand and gave a little wave.
    Vicky gestured toward the chairs in front of her desk, then took her own seat and waited for the family to settle in. Mary Ann had a small bag, beaded and quilled, which she spread on her lap. She removed a pad and pencil and set about drawing something.
    â€œClint’s secretary mentioned you might call,” Vicky said. An awkward beginning, an awkward circumstance.
    Myra Little Shield pulled a tissue from the woven bag on her lap and began dabbing at the corners of her eyes. She glanced over at the child, who looked up and gave her mother a reassuring smile, then went back to her drawing. The smile seemed to fortify Myra, who straightened herself against the chair and drew in a long breath. Thirtyish, black hair brushing her shoulders, no makeup or lipstick, and a take-me-as-I-am look about her. She was attractive, with traces of the kind of beauty that had propelled a number of young Arapaho women to the Miss Indian America crown. She gave Vicky a weak smile, squeezed the tissue in the fist she dropped on top of her bag, and turned toward her husband. Waiting. It was his place to lead the way.
    Eldon took his time. Vicky could almost see the thoughts shadowing his face. Sun splashed the window behind the couple, and a column of sunlight illuminated the dust in the air. Finally Eldon said, “We were shocked when we heard about Clint. Never expected anything like that to happen. Talked to him yesterday, and he said he was going to meet with another lawyer. That lawyer being you, from what Clint’s secretary told us. He sounded a little, I don’t know . . .” He shrugged. “Serious.”
    â€œDid he say why he wanted to bring me in on the case?”
    The man gave another shrug, then gripped the armrests hard, knuckles popping white in his brown hands, like a cowboy steadying himself on the fence before the bronco hurtles out the gate onto the rodeo grounds. He glanced down at the little girl, then back at Vicky. “This isn’t the time . . .”
    Vicky came around the desk and smiled down at the child. “Mary Ann, would you like to keep Annie company in the outer office?”
    â€œWho’s Annie?” The little girl made several pencil swipes on the pad before she looked up, blue eyes filled with innocence and wonder in a heart-shaped face. There was a little dimple in her chin. Her fingernails were rosy pink.
    â€œMy secretary. You met her when you came in. You could show her your drawings. She would like that very much.”
    The little girl gave her father, then her mother, a sideways glance. They both nodded, and she jumped up and started for the outer office. Vicky went with her. “Mary Ann has some drawings to show you,” she told Annie as the child sidled in next to Annie’s chair and opened her pad.
    Vicky closed the beveled glass doors behind her and went back to her desk. The Little Shields had angled their chairs toward the doors so they could keep an eye on Mary Ann and—more important, Vicky realized—so Mary Ann could keep an eye on them.
    â€œClint wasn’t one to talk about his business,” Eldon said. “Went about doing what he had to do.”
    â€œNever wanted to give us reason to get discouraged.” Myra’s eyes locked on her husband as if they were the same person. His turn