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It sank straight to the pit of his stomach and made him ache. Crazy, he thought, to want her more even when she insulted him.
    He held out an arm. “Step nimbly, gal. Do you mind walkin’? It’s not far.”
    After a moment she reluctantly slipped her hand under his elbow. “Fine. Which church do you attend, Mr. Gallatin?”
    “Methodist,” he said firmly.
    To his surprise, she laughed. Cutting wickedly shrewd eyes at him, she announced, “I just won a bet, Mr. Gallatin. Thank you. Rebecca said you’d pick the Baptist church because it’s next door to your favorite gambling hall.”
    Justis stared at her in exasperation. Then, to retaliate, he asked, “What, no blinders, Katie?”
    He stroked the side of her face with his fingers, brushed the tip of her nose, and even trailed his forefinger along the line of her stern, tempting mouth. “Don’t you want to go get that ugly black bonnet and hide yourface so nobody’ll know an Injun is traipsing around town like she thinks she belongs?”
    She raised her chin proudly. She knew he was manipulating her, but she could play that game as well. “No, let everyone see me with you. I think a savage and a heathen make a fine pair.”
    He nodded sardonically, but placed a possessive hand over the fingers she curled around his arm. They walked down the steps and into the sunshine side by side.

CHAPTER 4
     
    T HE CHURCH was just a big arbor built of poles and rough logs in a field down the road from the hotel. The backless benches were interspersed with tree stumps. Katherine decided that the people sitting on the stumps were lucky—the rough plank benches bristled with splinters.
    She looked straight ahead and tried to ignore the stares as she and Justis entered the arbor. How many women were eyeing her with distaste not only for being an Indian but also for having this handsome, well-dressed rapscallion, undoubtedly the catch of the town, by her side?
    He didn’t wear his hat, which was just as well. It would have looked completely ridiculous on his shaggy chestnut hair, much like putting a fancy halter on a wild bull, she thought. Hair such as his made people wary, thinking that its unruliness implied rebellion and anger—which in Justis Gallatin’s case was not far from the truth. She admitted that it intrigued her because of that.
    A woman came over and tugged at her sleeve. Katherinegave her cautious attention. “I knowed your family,” the woman said. “And they was fine folks. I was sorry to hear what happened.”
    More people came up to her and offered their sympathies. Some had done business with her parents and prized their friendship; some had been the recipients of Blue Song charity. Stunned, Katherine murmured her thanks. Tears blurred her eyes, and she held them back by sheer force of will. She would never cry in front of these people if she could help it.
    “Come along,” Justis said gently.
    They sat down on a bench and were silent for several minutes. Katherine stared at the grassy earth beneath her feet, unable to talk without showing her grief. She still held Justis’s arm, and the slow stroking of his fingertips on her hand was an act of compassion she couldn’t bring herself to rebuke.
    Finally she got herself under control and looked at him. “Thank you.”
    His green eyes were shrewd and thoughtful. “Reckon church was a good idea. You see that there are some folks who don’t want to run the Cherokees off. You see that you’ve got friends.”
    “Good. Perhaps one of them will give me employment.”
    He frowned. “They’re not gonna stir up trouble by encouraging a Cherokee to settle in town. You’d just get insulted, and then I’d have to beat the tarnation out of whoever insulted you. Besides, you don’t need to work for money. I’ll take care of you.”
    His leg was pressed tightly to hers; his hand clamped her fingers to his arm as if he demanded that she hold on to him throughout the service. She moved away and tugged her hand