Free Native Born by Jenna Kernan

if you win. Just like rodeo.” Which was how he and then Gabe had made money to help support the family.
    â€œThere’s a big powwow up in South Dakota on the Sweetgrass reservation. She was bringing Jovanna to her first competition. They got hit head-on by a drunk driver. My mother was killed instantly and Jovanna survived. They were wearing their regalia and my mom’s ID was still at the campsite. She was listed as a Jane Doe. It took them a week to even tell us about the accident. By then she was already buried up in the Sweetgrass reservation cemetery.”
    â€œBut why didn’t they ID Jovanna and send her back to you?”
    Clyne swiped a hand over his face.
    â€œBecause the report said ‘no survivors.’ We were told she had died with our mom.”
    â€œBut how?”
    â€œPenmanship. The state police officer wrote one survivor and it got transposed into no survivors on the report.”
    Cassidy thumped back against the side of her car as she absorbed this.
    â€œHow did you figure it out?”
    â€œThe cemetery records showed that they buried only one body. We were trying to place a stone lamb on Jovanna’s grave and discovered the mistake.”
    Cassidy swiped a tear from her cheek. Clyne’s throat felt tight.
    â€œWe better go,” he said.
    She nodded and slipped into her dark government-issue sedan and started the engine. He trudged to his SUV and led the way. Cassidy followed him in her sedan with the tinted windows. She followed him to the door of his grandmother’s home, where she met the first member of their family, Buster, a rather old and partially deaf sheepdog who, at twelve, was the most senior one of them.
    The family hound was a mix of several breeds with the long snout of a collie and the mismatched blue and brown eyes of a husky. Buster’s legs and face were a buff color and his back showed the blanket common in some collies and shepherd breeds. His full, bushy tail wagged as he reached them.
    His walk was stiff but he still bowed a greeting to Cassidy, who offered her hand for Buster’s inspection. His white muzzle and clouding eyes revealed his age. Buster was gentle but protective, which was why he was surprised to see him lick Cassidy’s hand.
    She followed the shepherd mix to the living room, where his grandmother made introductions to his brothers and their wives and Gabe’s fiancé. Uncle Luke arrived for supper. He was wise enough to know that Glendora’s cooking was not to be missed. Finally, Cassidy followed him to the table, where they posed for a photo, taken by Luke, and then all sat.
    He didn’t want her here. So why did he keep looking at her?
    His grandmother’s table was round so there was no head of the table. But she had placed Cassidy next to him. Better, he thought, for he could keep an eye on her.
    In deference to their guest, the family spoke in English. Only the prayer of thanks was offered in Apache. The meal smelled delicious, but the scent of Cassidy kept intruding. She smelled of summer flowers and baby powder and he wanted to tuck her under his arm and inhale.
    Cassidy listened as Kino and Clay spoke of their time with the Shadow Wolves on the Arizona border. Gabe relayed tales of when he and Clyne rode the rodeo circuit together. Finally Glendora steered the conversation to Cassidy. She started with Luke, asking how they had met and what it was like working together. Luke’s comments were far too glowing for Clyne’s taste.
    Clyne focused on his meal but his heart wasn’t in it. Cassidy’s presence was ruining his appetite.
    His grandmother left the table to retrieve the dessert, two fresh-made pecan pies. Kino’s wife, Lea, rose heavily to her feet to help serve. Her hand went occasionally to her round belly, caressing the place where her first child grew. Only one more month and Clyne would be an uncle.
    Once all the plates were full, Glendora resumed her seat and