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Authors: Renee Simons
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cabinet.
"Stay away from this guy," she whispered to her reflection, dragging unsteady fingers through her tousled hair. But like a parent lecturing a recalcitrant child, she feared the warning would go unheeded.
In the living room, Stormwalker had fallen asleep with one arm draped over the back of the sofa. She covered him with an afghan, then curled up in a leather chair from which she could watch him.
In a fitful sleep, he tossed about and muttered unintelligibly. His restlessness drew her to him but when she touched his forehead with the back of her hand she found it cool and dry. She straightened the shawl and went to the window where she perched on the deep wooden sill.
Darkness ruled, inside and out. The rising moon gave the clouds a stormy, silver-edged drama. Through the open window an occasional breeze carried the faint sound of drums and sometimes, chanting. How sad, she thought, that he'd been made to feel unwelcome by people like Billy Winter.
How sad, or how fitting? He betrayed the country Dar gave his life to protect. He's getting what he deserves.
Even as the thought formed she discarded it. If she still believed he'd committed treason she would have let Billy finish what he'd started, no matter what Mac had ordered. If her feelings about him hadn't changed, she wouldn't have chosen to use the .38 to protect him when she'd sworn never to fire it again.
An old memory washed over her in a wave of icy dread. She heard again the shot from the robbery suspect's gun that had slammed into her body and the answering round from her service revolver as it brought down the perpetrator, who'd turned out to be no more than a frightened boy. She began to shake.
She shook so hard her teeth chattered, forcing her to bite down on her tongue. She knew the reaction would pass. It always had before. Something would rekindle the memory of that night and the months of physical and emotional rehabilitation. Then the shakes would begin until sheer willpower controlled them.
Stormwalker’s voice cut through the turmoil of emotion bombarding her. "Why aren't you watching the dancing at the powwow?"
"Someone should be here with you," she whispered, trying to add steel to her voice and to pretend more confidence than she felt. She cleared her throat. "Just in case."
"I'm okay, but you're not. I can feel it even at a distance."
"I'll be fine."
She heard him shift position on the sofa. "Come here."
"No. I've got to go." Control hovered just out of reach.
"What are you afraid of?"
His voice caressed her senses, adding a new kind of torment. Of what you make me feel. And want.
"Nothing. It's late. I have work to do."
She slipped from her perch and went to the door. By the time she turned the knob, he was at her side with his hand resting gently on her arm. The warmth of his touch on her bare skin found an echo in the deepest part of her, where a damp heat sprang to life. This is ridiculous, she thought, unacceptable, to react this way to this man.
"Are you sorry you helped me today?"
She was grateful for the darkness hiding a guilty blush. "No, of course not. I just have to go."
"Then go. No one's stopping you."
"Will you be all right alone?"
He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I've been alone before."
"I know," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
"Hell, lady, it's probably no more than I deserve. Right?"
She shivered. "I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to. I know what you're thinking."
"How convenient," she said. "That will save us a lot of unnecessary conversation."
Forget her prideful claim that she would never back down. She needed to get away from him. Now. She heard his steps behind her and left him standing on the porch as she got into her car and drove off into the night.
Chapter 6
Stormwalker sat on the steps of the general store and watched Zan and the Banner girl talk outside the younger woman's house. Finally, Zan took her leave and started up the street. She walked gracefully,
"Stay away from this guy," she whispered to her reflection, dragging unsteady fingers through her tousled hair. But like a parent lecturing a recalcitrant child, she feared the warning would go unheeded.
In the living room, Stormwalker had fallen asleep with one arm draped over the back of the sofa. She covered him with an afghan, then curled up in a leather chair from which she could watch him.
In a fitful sleep, he tossed about and muttered unintelligibly. His restlessness drew her to him but when she touched his forehead with the back of her hand she found it cool and dry. She straightened the shawl and went to the window where she perched on the deep wooden sill.
Darkness ruled, inside and out. The rising moon gave the clouds a stormy, silver-edged drama. Through the open window an occasional breeze carried the faint sound of drums and sometimes, chanting. How sad, she thought, that he'd been made to feel unwelcome by people like Billy Winter.
How sad, or how fitting? He betrayed the country Dar gave his life to protect. He's getting what he deserves.
Even as the thought formed she discarded it. If she still believed he'd committed treason she would have let Billy finish what he'd started, no matter what Mac had ordered. If her feelings about him hadn't changed, she wouldn't have chosen to use the .38 to protect him when she'd sworn never to fire it again.
An old memory washed over her in a wave of icy dread. She heard again the shot from the robbery suspect's gun that had slammed into her body and the answering round from her service revolver as it brought down the perpetrator, who'd turned out to be no more than a frightened boy. She began to shake.
She shook so hard her teeth chattered, forcing her to bite down on her tongue. She knew the reaction would pass. It always had before. Something would rekindle the memory of that night and the months of physical and emotional rehabilitation. Then the shakes would begin until sheer willpower controlled them.
Stormwalker’s voice cut through the turmoil of emotion bombarding her. "Why aren't you watching the dancing at the powwow?"
"Someone should be here with you," she whispered, trying to add steel to her voice and to pretend more confidence than she felt. She cleared her throat. "Just in case."
"I'm okay, but you're not. I can feel it even at a distance."
"I'll be fine."
She heard him shift position on the sofa. "Come here."
"No. I've got to go." Control hovered just out of reach.
"What are you afraid of?"
His voice caressed her senses, adding a new kind of torment. Of what you make me feel. And want.
"Nothing. It's late. I have work to do."
She slipped from her perch and went to the door. By the time she turned the knob, he was at her side with his hand resting gently on her arm. The warmth of his touch on her bare skin found an echo in the deepest part of her, where a damp heat sprang to life. This is ridiculous, she thought, unacceptable, to react this way to this man.
"Are you sorry you helped me today?"
She was grateful for the darkness hiding a guilty blush. "No, of course not. I just have to go."
"Then go. No one's stopping you."
"Will you be all right alone?"
He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I've been alone before."
"I know," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
"Hell, lady, it's probably no more than I deserve. Right?"
She shivered. "I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to. I know what you're thinking."
"How convenient," she said. "That will save us a lot of unnecessary conversation."
Forget her prideful claim that she would never back down. She needed to get away from him. Now. She heard his steps behind her and left him standing on the porch as she got into her car and drove off into the night.
Chapter 6
Stormwalker sat on the steps of the general store and watched Zan and the Banner girl talk outside the younger woman's house. Finally, Zan took her leave and started up the street. She walked gracefully,
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