Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,46
going to talk to my father about this. Together we must learn the truth.”
He took hold of her arms. “No. You mustn’t say anything about it. Your father doesn’t want you or your mother knowing about it. He made me swear to say nothing.”
“But now that I know—”
“No!” His tone was harsh. “Look, it’s bad enough that you were out there. He’ll be livid if he finds out. Just don’t say anything. In return for you keeping this between us, I’ll tell you whatever I learn. Promise me you’ll stay quiet about it.”
“Well . . . all right. I promise . . . for now.” She wasn’t sure what exactly had him so upset. Was he worried that she would cause problems for his own investigation?
Before she could ask, he slipped into the shadows and was gone. He’d left her within ten yards of her house. Connie didn’t know what to think or do. She was touched that he was working to see her father cleared, but at the same time she was confused by the kiss. It hadn’t filled her with the elation and love she had thought it would. Not that she’d thought it would now, but in the past she had figured it would send her soaring, fill her stomach with the fluttering of butterfly wings, and fill the air with fireworks. It had done none of those things.
“What are you doing out here? It’s well past one in the morning.”
Connie started at the sound of Tom’s voice. “You gave me a fright. I wish you wouldn’t sneak up on me.”
“I was worried about you. I heard you slip out of the house earlier.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bother you. When we were at the store earlier today, I heard a group of men talking about something happening at the river tonight. I went to see what was going on, and it turned out they were smuggling whiskey onto the reservation.”
“What? That could have been dangerous! Why didn’t you tell me? I could have gone with you.”
The moon slid out from behind the clouds, and she could see Tom’s worried expression. “I wasn’t sure if what I’d overheard meant anything. I certainly didn’t expect to see them smuggling whiskey.”
“Was that Clint with you? Did you tell him?”
“Yes. I mean, no.” She sighed. “Yes, it was Clint, but no, I didn’t tell him what I’d heard nor anything else. When I was creeping along the riverbank, Clint caught me and dragged me into the brush to hide. He did tell me he’s trying to figure out who’s smuggling whiskey onto the reservation. Then I heard one of the men wondering where Smith was.”
“Who is Smith?”
“I don’t know. I asked Clint, but he didn’t seem to know either, and all he wanted to talk about was the kiss.”
She hadn’t meant to mention that, but since it was Tom and she usually told him everything, Connie wasn’t overly concerned.
Tom, however, seemed to see it differently. “Kiss? What kiss?”
“Oh, it was nothing, really. Clint kissed me. I think he’s trying to get me to refocus my attention on the past and how I felt for him, but honestly, I don’t know what I feel anymore. That kiss didn’t make me feel anything but confused. I thought there would be fireworks and butterflies in my stomach, but there was nothing.” She started for the house. “We need to figure out who Smith is. Something tells me he’s an important part of this. I think we’re on to something big.”
Tom said nothing, and he didn’t follow her toward the house. No doubt he was still upset with her.
“I promise I won’t go out again without you,” she called over her shoulder. Hopefully that would settle him down.
Chapter 11
Tom spent the next few days meeting people either with Clint or Adam Browning. The people seemed apprehensive of him—even hostile at first—but once they’d spent a little time visiting, the Native people seemed more accepting of him. Two weeks after their arrival, he and Connie began their work together as a team. They started with the people who were on good terms with the Brownings. It was generally felt among the Native people that a friend of a friend was worthy of trust until proven unworthy. Of course, not everyone on the reservation considered the Brownings friends.
They started their official recording of Native culture and history with Rose Johnson. Rosy told many stories from her youth, while Tom and Connie took turns writing down