Winter Prey

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sheriff Hjak didn't object when Keoman accompanied him out of the cabin and down to the lake. Caleb remained on the glassed-in deck with Kymbria, studying her surreptitiously when he could. Obviously, he wasn't furtive enough. Her deep brown eyes held a dangerous glint when she turned away from the windows with no warning.

"Why are you staring at me? And don't say you weren't, because I could see your reflection in the windows."

"Sorry," Caleb apologized in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone. "Just admiring a beautiful woman."

"No, you weren't," she replied. "I'm a trained counselor. That wasn't admiration in your expression. It was speculation."

Caleb shrugged, hoping she would take it neither as an admission nor an argument. "All right. I was wondering if you knew why Keoman was so interested in that fetish. And what he meant about this being a totally different situation."

"Why didn't you ask him? And why should I know what he's thinking?"

Obviously, she was a lot sharper than him. He shouldn't have tried to pull information out of her without breaking his promise of secrecy to Keoman. Caleb tried to shovel himself out of the hole he'd dug and pull out the foot that had ended up in his mouth when he tumbled into the hole.

"I got the impression you and the shaman had been together a while this morning."

Her frown increased, and Caleb realized he'd only antagonized her deeper.

"And that means he spent the night?" she flared.

"None of my business if he did, but he would have had to arrived late last night. After he was at my cabin."

She spread her hands and shrugged in a what-does-that-have-to-do-with-things manner.

"I'm sorry," Caleb apologized again. "All I can say is that I haven't had enough caffeine yet this morning."

"I doubt that's the problem," Kymbria said astutely, studying him for a second. "Why don't you come out and say what you're dancing all around."

Because it would mean I might as well pack up and head home. He admitted, though, to a desire to have this woman's - if not admiration, then at least approval.

"Has Keoman told you why I'm here?"

"Should he have?" she asked in return.

"Not necessarily. You are a Chippewa tribal member, though, aren't you?"

"Officially, yes, I am a tribal member. Ojibway, which we prefer to be called rather than Chippewa. And if you'd studied our culture before you came up here, you'd know that Keoman's not called a shaman. He's a Midė, a member of the Midewiwin Society. I'm surprised he hasn't corrected you if you've been calling him a shaman."

At least her tone of voice was less hostile, more along the line of informational, if somewhat patronizing.

"Mostly I guess I've thought of him as a healer," Caleb said. "But thanks for the correction."

"Well, I haven't been an actual part of the tribe for...wait a minute. You didn't have to introduce yourself to Sheriff Hjak when he came in, either. So you know both him and Keoman. How long have you been here in the Northwood?"

"Only a couple days," Caleb said before he thought.

"And what are you doing here? How did you get to know both Keoman and the sheriff so quickly?"

Again, he couldn't answer that without violating Keoman's confidence. He still wasn't sure why the shaman...the Midė...wanted to keep the real reason for Caleb's presence here under wraps, but for now, he had to abide by his wishes. Otherwise, Keoman and the tribal Elders would close against him. He could warn her about something else, though.