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Standing at the kitchen counter on one foot and her crutches, Dela Alvaro, spread peanut butter on her toast as Mugshot licked his lips.
“You can have one bite as long as you don’t drool all over the floor,” Dela said, smiling at her roommate, a 140-pound, three-legged, German Shepard Malamute cross dog. She’d saved him when a reckless teenage driver hit the animal. The dog’s owner didn’t want to pay for saving Mugshot, Dela stepped in and became, then Eats-a-lot’s, new owner. They made a good pair, both being amputees.
Her phone buzzed on the counter beside the peanut butter jar. A glance at the number and her hand stilled, the knife resting on the toast. “Who do you think this could be?” she said to Mugshot, staring at a number she didn’t know.
“Only one way to find out.” She slid her finger across the screen and poked the speaker icon. “Hello?”
“Dela Alvaro?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Yes. And you are?”
“Ina Winter. You saved my life three months ago.”
Dela remembered the woman and the way her body had been flung out the door of her home. “How are you doing?” She’d heard the woman had been taken to another reservation and reunited with her son. The reason her husband had nearly killed his wife, was his trying to find out where she’d hid their son.
“I am doing good. My son is with me and we are starting over. Soon I will be free of my husband.” The woman’s words grew stronger as she talked.
“That’s good news. Who has been taking care of your donkey?” Dela and Mugshot liked stopping by on their jogs to pet the woman’s donkey. That was what they’d been doing the day she’d witnessed the woman fly out the door.
“Poor Jethro isn’t doing well. A neighbor says my husband hasn’t been home for two weeks. She has given Jethro all the hay I had there, but he is not getting enough. She can’t take him. He was given to my son as a gift from my uncle who is no longer with us. Would you be able to take him? Care for him?” The pleading in the woman’s voice reminded Dela of the night three months ago when the woman had pleaded to let her die.
“Sure. I have enough room, and Mugshot, my dog, likes Jethro.” She thought about how she didn’t really have a need for a donkey but it would give Mugshot company while she was at work.
“Thank you! Thank you so much. I didn’t want him to go to someone who would treat him bad.”
“Just make sure your husband knows you asked me to take the donkey.” She didn’t want to get caught up in their marital dispute.
“He won’t care. He has never liked Jethro. And as my neighbor says, he hasn’t even been home.” Ina ended the connection.
Dela glanced down at Mugshot. “It looks like you’re getting a buddy.”
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦
Two hours later, Dela was dressed in her work uniform and wearing a jacket to block the cold March air as she walked down the road to Ina’s house. She jogged through the area most days with Mugshot on a leash beside her. It was their exercise.
She heard the donkey before she spotted him. He stood with his head pointed at the house across the street, braying. That must be the neighbor who had been feeding him. Walking closer, she called out to the donkey.
“Hey, Jethro. How would you like to come hang out with Mugshot?” She walked up to the fence and petted the animal. His ears had always fascinated her. They were so fuzzy and long. He rubbed his nose on her arm. “I need to find a rope to lead you with.”
A quick scan of the yard didn’t reveal a vehicle. She hoped Mr. Winter was still gone. She didn’t need an altercation with him. He could charge her with trespassing even though she had his wife’s consent to get the donkey.
She walked onto the property and opened the door to the small building beside the donkey’s pen. The weak sunlight from the open door gave her just enough light to see a halter and rope. She grabbed that and turned around.
The man that had thrown his wife out of the house after beating her to near death, charged across the yard toward Dela.
Her mind switched to combat mode. She’d been in the army seventeen years. Ten of those years had been with the military police. She knew how to deal with an enraged person wielding a knife.
Dela flung the lead rope at her attacker, looping the rope around the man’s arm holding the knife. She jerked the lead, and her attacker lost his grip on the weapon. The knife flew through the air.
The man didn’t stop. He lashed out with his other hand, catching her alongside the head as he’d done on their first encounter. She punched him in the face and tried to wipe his feet out from under him. Only too late she remembered her prosthesis didn’t work the same as a real leg. She ended up on the ground. Before she could clamber to her feet, Mr. Winter grabbed the knife and dropped down on her, straddling her body on his bent knees.
“You took my wife and my son from me.” He raised the knife up with both hands.
She slammed her hands into his balls and rolled out from under him. The knife dropped from his hands, he grasped at his crotch, moaning, and fell to his side. Dela picked up the knife and shoved to her feet. She carried the weapon into the small building and stuck it in a crack in the wall.
Walking out of the shed, she cast a glance at the man lying on his side, puking. Dela knew she should feel sympathetic, but after him attacking her twice, he could choke on his vomit.
She picked up the halter and rope, caught Jethro, and headed for home. On the way, she called Heath Seaver, her high school boyfriend, and now Tribal Police Officer. She wanted to make sure she gave her statement before Mr. Winter ran to the tribal police.
“Hey, Dela. I’m headed to the casino. A guest had their car broken into,” Heath answered.
“Can you send someone else?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder toward the Winter property.
“What’s wrong?” His teasing tone was all business now.
She told him about the call from Ina and being attacked by Winter. “I left him rolling on the ground holding his nuts. I just wanted to say he attacked me and I had permission to take the donkey.” Her hands shook remembering the way the man had charged her and how the sunlight had glinted off the long blade of the knife.
“Do you think he’s going to say you stole the animal?” Heath asked.
“That and possibly that I assaulted him. But he came at me. I was minding my own business, doing a favor for his wife.” She turned into her driveway and walked to the backyard. She needed to call Travis to come over and check the fence before she let the donkey loose in her large lot. She’d known the acre and a half was more than she needed, but the privacy it gave her had appealed.
“I’ll go around and check on him when I finish up at the casino.” Heath’s calm voice eased the tension knotting her shoulders.
“Thanks. I’ll head to work as soon as I get Jethro water and make sure he and Mugshot aren’t going to destroy anything in the backyard.” She ended the call, feeling relieved that Heath would be checking on Ina’s husband.
She opened the gate to the backyard. Mugshot stood in the door of his doghouse. “Come on over and meet your new roommate.”
Since the donkey hadn’t had a halter on in the pasture, she removed it from the animal and watched him slowly walk toward Mugshot. The two touched noses and the donkey went to mowing her grass.
“This might work out well,” she said, watching the donkey eat and Mugshot laying back down in the dog house with his head out the door, his gaze on the animal in his domain.
“I’m going to get ready for work. You two get acquainted.” She entered the house, tossed her muddy clothing to the side in the bathroom, took a shower, and braided her long dark hair before putting on the same shirt and new khaki pants. A study of her face in the mirror showed slight bruising on the side of her face where Winter had landed the first blow. She patted some concealer over it and picked up a clean jacket. She was ready for her job as head of security at the Spotted Pony Casino on the Confederated Tribe of the Umatilla Reservation.
