Montana Midwife

“The stew can simmer for a while.”

Not holding back, Tab told the whole story of Misty and the murder, the possible serial killer connection, the chopper and Aiden. When she mentioned his name, she heard a breathless change in her voice. She pictured the tall, lean cowboy, and a rush of excitement went through her. In an attempt to hide that reaction, she turned her back on Grandma and opened the refrigerator door to take out a pitcher of cold water.

“Aiden Gabriel,” her grandma said. “He’s a handsome man.”

“Is he?” Her tone pitched to a higher octave. “I didn’t notice. I was more concerned about his sister.”

“You don’t fool me. When you were a girl and spent the summer at the Gabriel ranch, you liked him, liked him very much.” She sang a little song about sailing away with the man of her dreams. “Didn’t you ask me for a totem to cause a man to fall in love with you?”

Tab didn’t deny it. “I was a silly teenager then.”

“And now, you’re both grown up. Could be good timing. From what I hear, Aiden broke up with his long-time girlfriend. She lives in California and doesn’t care about ranch life.”

Tab poured cold spring water into a Mason jar and took a sip. People who lived on the rez seemed isolated, and yet the gossip grapevine relayed information more quickly than cell phone texting. “How do you know so much about Aiden’s love life?”

“His mother and I see each other often. I bring her baked goods, and Sylvia gives me beef. She’s happy about the blessing of a new baby.”

“It doesn’t bother her that Misty is so young and so unmarried?”

“If anyone understands about unexpected pregnancy, it’s Sylvia Gabriel.” Grandma leaned back in her chair and folded her hands on her lap, a signal that she was about to tell a story. “Sylvia nearly died in childbirth. She had a difficult labor, ending in Caesarian section and a serious loss of blood. But after she had Aiden, she wanted more children. She and her husband tried everything. I know this because she came to me and asked how to increase her fertility.”

Maria Spotted Bear not only had a reputation as an excellent baker but also for healing and cures. Tab had learned young how to locate, harvest and prepare many herbs for teas and salves. “Red clover, squaw berry and yams. Those are all good to promote fertility.”

“Nothing worked and she gave up—satisfied to have a healthy son and a good marriage. Fourteen years later, when Sylvia was thirty-seven years old, she had Misty. A happy surprise.”

Her cell phone buzzed. The screen showed Aiden was the caller. As soon as she saw his name, she remembered that she’d promised to call him when she reached her grandma’s house.

“I’m home,” she said when she picked up. “We’re just about to sit down for dinner.”

“I’m glad, but that’s not why I was calling.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that he trusted her to take care of herself, or to feel bad that he wasn’t checking up on her.

“Misty asked if you could come over to the ranch tonight, maybe in an hour or so. Is that convenient?”

His tone was cool and distant, more appropriate for a business transaction than a personal request. “Aiden, what’s going on?”

“They found another body. She’s from Henley, and her name is Ellen.”

That was the name Wally mentioned. He’d said that Ellen was with David Welling. “A blonde?”

“Yes.”

She heard other voices in the background. They were arguing. “What else?”

“The victim was wearing a gold, engraved wristwatch. It belongs to my sister.”

The link to another murder was bad for Misty. Her story about the mystery gunman who grabbed her rifle and disappeared sounded even more flimsy. Tab didn’t know how she could help other than to offer moral support. Sometimes, that was enough. “I’ll be there.”

Chapter Five

If Tab had gotten her way, she would have tucked her grandma into bed for a solid eight hours of sleep before she left. But Grandma really wanted to come along. She argued that Sylvia Gabriel was a very good friend of the family, and friends take care of friends. What Grandma didn’t say was that these murders were more exciting than anything that had happened since the fire at the casino in Crow Agency.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Tab’s van, she fiddled with the wrist brace Tab had insisted that she wear. “The tribe should have jurisdiction. The dead girl was found on the rez.”

Tab was tired of running through the logistical reasons why Joseph Lefthand couldn’t handle a complicated investigation. She jumped to the bottom line, which was something her grandma—who took part in tribal council—would understand. “It would be expensive. The tribe would have to hire a special coroner to do the autopsies.”

“Are they going to cut that poor girl open?”

Tab shot her a skeptical glance. With her long white braids, patterned wool jacket, long skirt and moccasins, Maria Spotted Bear was just a few head feathers short of playing a tribal elder at the annual reenactment of Custer’s Last Stand. Not an entirely true image. Grandma kept up with the times.

“Don’t pretend that you don’t know about autopsies,” Tab said. “You’ve got television on satellite dish. You’ve watched police shows.”

“And hospital shows to keep up with what you’re doing.” Slyly, she asked, “Are those shows truthful?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tab muttered sarcastically. “Every doctor is gorgeous, and every case is fascinating.”

“You see what I mean? I’ve heard about detectives, but I don’t know what they do.”

Tab shrugged. “Neither do I. Not exactly.”

“I can tell you one thing. To find a killer, you don’t need fancy equipment or autopsies. You need to be smart.” Grandma tapped the side of her head. “A real detective should have the instincts of a hunter.”

“Do you think Joseph Lefthand has those instincts?”

“Better him than Sheriff Steve.”

Tab had met both men at the meeting in Crow Agency. Both seemed decent and hard-working. Both were deeply concerned about the young women who had gone missing. Tab wondered if she ought to be more worried since she and Grandma lived alone without any security other than the rifles they kept in the front closet.

Her van jostled along the back roads between her grandma’s house and the Gabriel ranch. Though Tab hadn’t driven the route in years, she remembered the way. When she spent the summer at the ranch, she’d traveled back and forth many times. Later, on other visits to her grandma, she’d make a point of stopping by to see Misty … and maybe to catch a glimpse of Aiden.

“When was the last time you came to the ranch?” her grandma asked.

“It must have been two years ago. Misty was in high school.” She’d been surprised by Misty’s physical maturity. The little girl she’d once known had become a woman, but she’d still run to greet Tab and give her a massive hug. She hadn’t seen Aiden on that trip.

Her grandma nodded. “After you moved to Missoula for nursing school, you barely had time for me on your visits.”

When Tab came to her grandma’s house, there was usually a specific reason, like taking care of home repairs or making sure her grandma got a checkup with the local doctor. Though Maria Spotted Bear was self-sufficient and didn’t need constant watching over, both Tab and her dad made a point of checking in with Grandma, just to be sure she was okay.

As her van rounded the last curve leading to the Gabriel ranch, Tab saw lights shining from every window of the two-story, cedar-sided ranch house with the peaked roof. Several vehicles parked outside the three-car garage to the left of the house. To the right was a barn with a corrugated metal roof. She knew that Aiden lived in a separate cabin behind the barn. Did he keep his helicopter back there?

She parked her van at the end of a row of cars. From the back, she took a satchel containing a sweet potato pie and the cornbread her grandma had made for their dinner. Maria Spotted Bear never went visiting empty-handed, even though it seemed somewhat inappropriate to bring pie to a murder investigation.

Approaching the house, Tab glanced at the far left upstairs window under the eaves. That had been her bedroom during the summer she’d lived here. She remembered a long-ago night when she couldn’t sleep and had perched on the sill, looking out at the long, straight driveway. She’d spotted Aiden, striding toward the house with his border collie trotting along beside him. For some reason—she’d never known why—he wasn’t wearing a shirt, just his jeans, boots and hat. For a moment, he’d paused. His shoulders rose and fell as though he was sighing. He’d taken off his beat-up Stetson and tilted his head to gaze at the moon. The silvery light bathed him in an ethereal glow—an image that branded itself indelibly in her mind.

Her grandma climbed the three steps to the veranda ahead of her and rapped on the door. A stocky woman in a denim vest opened the door.

“Maria Spotted Bear,” the woman said in an authoritative alto voice. “Is this an official visit? Are you representing the tribal council?”