Having learned over the weeks that it was dangerous to approach the rear of a horse, Jenna eased herself toward the pinto's head and waited for Gage to come to her. When he didn't right away, disappointment made her frown.
"I brought you some coffee."
"Don't want any, thanks."
The crease between her eyes deepened. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing's wrong." He didn't look at her, but focused his brush strokes on the pinto's rear leg.
In his bent position his hair fell over his shoulders in a black drape. Instantly, Jenna was back in Gage's bed, his hair teasing her flesh like a gossamer curtain. She blinked to dispel the memory and twisted to set the mugs down on a nearby railing.
"Of course, something's wrong. I'm not an idiot. Look at me, Gage. Talk to me."
He straightened then, his hand lowering to his side. Clear annoyance flashed in his dark eyes.
When he didn't speak, she said, "This isn't how you greet someone with whom you've just —" she felt the need to choose her words carefully "— been intimate."
Confusion scrambled her thoughts. She'd come out here expecting . . . what? A warm embrace? A seductive kiss?
Yes, dammit! That was exactly what she'd expected. Having been met with his glaring indifference was baffling.
"So you think sex is going to change everything between us."
It wasn't a question, but a statement. And although she was still uncertain about what he was trying to imply — what it was that had him so apathetic — she didn't like his tone at all.
He stalked past her and hung the brush on a hook on the wall with more force than was necessary. "It changes nothing." He gazed off, raking his fingers through his hair. "Who the hell am I kidding? It changes everything."
Jenna wanted to reach out to him. He was close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, smell the clean, warm scent of him, but some quiet voice deep inside told her it would be unwise to touch him. He wasn't indifferent about what had happened between them; he was cross.
He stepped around her, clicked his tongue and the horse started for the door. As the animal passed, Gage swatted its flank and said, "Go," and the pinto trotted out into the sunny paddock.
Keeping her tone as calm as possible, Jenna asked, "Why are you angry with me this morning?"
"I'm not angry with you." He walked several steps away from her, then turned to face her. "I'm angry with myself." Strain made his features go taut.
"But why?"
"I'm a cheat," he said. "And a thief. I stole your virginity."
Without hesitation, she softly replied, "You can't steal what was freely given."
Simple logic, however, wasn't enough to cool his irritation. Suddenly, it seemed as if he had more energy than he could contain. He paced two steps in one direction, then two steps back. "I've spent the past year feeling cheated. And now —" he raised his palm and slapped it against his chest "— I'm the cheater."
Jenna knew his blurted statement was important, but before she could put the pieces together, he continued his rant.
"The Great Spirit stole my family. Left me here alone." He averted his gaze to the far wall. "And this woman is thrust into my life. A woman who not only kept me from finding the release meant for me the day of that damned storm, but who forced her way into my home. Into my life. Who seduced me with her flashing eyes. Her gorgeous body. I'm only human. I'm just a man."
He talked about her as if she were someone else. Some third party they were discussing. But they weren't talking about someone else. It was her!
Gage seemed to refuse to meet her gaze. And after all the things he'd said, that infuriated her. If he intended to blame her for the state of his life, the least he could do was look at her.
"So you feel that this is all my fault?" Her volume tipped upward and slight sarcasm laced the question. "You feel that I'm responsible for the fact that we made love last night?"
"We didn't make love," he countered. "We had sex."
Humiliation made her face flame red-hot. She wanted to shout at him. She wanted to rail and scream. But she didn't. She was too mortified to speak.
Why should it bother her how he chose to describe what had happened between them? It shouldn't. It wasn't as if she'd expected last night to transform their empty vows or change their meaningless marriage into something real.
She swallowed, but her throat was so dry that the action actually hurt. The overwhelming shame his curt, tactless opinion of their intimacy caused her was significant.
No man could trigger this kind of indignity, this kind of pain unless she felt something for him. Something deep. Something significant.
Jenna shoved the notion from her mind. Now was not the time for her to evaluate her feelings for Gage Dalton.
"What we experienced last night," she snapped, "was beautiful. And I refuse to allow you to cheapen that. Okay, so you don't agree that we made love." She shrugged. "So you want to call it sex. Fine. But whatever name you choose to put to it doesn't change the fact that it was wonderful."
Regret etched into the hard planes of his handsome face, and that only stirred her fury all the more.
"I can't believe," she barreled ahead, full steam, "that you're still bitter that I saved your lousy neck. That I kept you from driving into that flood on Reservation Road. How stupid can you be?"
Whatever remorse might have flitted through him vanished as her insult evidently took hold. His eyes narrowed in what she took to be a warning, but she didn't even consider heeding it.
"Have you stopped for one minute to think "-" she tilted her head slightly " that it wasn't me who saved you that day? But that it was Kit-tan-it-to'wet? That the Great Spirit had a plan that you never imagined?"
His fury was back on full throttle. He didn't have to say anything for her to know it. She could feel it.
Before he could respond, she said, "Relief from grief doesn't have to mean the end of one's life, Gage. But it would mean the end of life as you know it. Relief could come in the form of a new life — a new love."
Embarrassment flashed through her when she saw his jaw tick. Pressing her palm to her chest, she rushed to clarify, "Not necessarily me. That's not what I'm suggesting. But the Great One could bring you a woman to love, Gage. A woman who could make all the hurt and grief disappear. If you could just open yourself up to the idea and let it happen."
For a long moment, silence reverberated off the walls of the stable. Oh, there was sound — birdsong coming from the trees outside, the soft snorts and occasional whinny of the horses that remained in their stalls. But the silence between the two of them was deafening.
Finally, Gage said, "My heart is too frozen to feel love."
Frustration made Jenna clench her teeth. "I wouldn't be surprised to learn that you don't even have a heart."
She felt so hurt and so angry that she found it difficult to take a breath. Apparently, he'd succeeded in reining in his emotions. He stood there looking arrogant and unmoved. How could he be so unresponsive when he'd hurt her with words that had been as sharp as a well honed ax?
She'd done her best to make him understand that life had much to offer. Love. Joy. Hope. A future. But he refused to see it.
Oh, she realized that he was blinded by the guilt he wore like a heavy wool coat. That he was left in the land of the living while his wife and daughter had died.
It seemed that his grief was so high he couldn't climb over it, and so wide he couldn't see around it. If he wanted to live the remainder of his days alone and lonely, who was she to tell him he couldn't?
"I'm leaving," she announced. "I'm packing up our things. Lily and I will be gone before the day is over."
She turned and walked toward the door.
"But you can't go."
Jenna turned, her brows raised. "Oh?"
"Have you forgotten about the Council? You can't take Lily off Broken Bow. Not without their permission, anyway."
Right now, she didn't want an
yone telling her what she could or couldn't do.
"Just let them try to stop me." She turned back toward the doorway and took a single step . . . and that was all the time it took for her to remember. Hoo'ma. Chee'pai. The rest of the Elders. The entire reservation of Lenape who were striving to preserve the treasure that was their heritage.
How could she disrespect their efforts by walking away with Lily when they truly felt the baby was part of their family?
She couldn't.
Her shoulders rounded in defeat and she reached up to smooth her fingers across her forehead, marveling that she'd actually succeeded in making this complicated and messy situation more complicated and messy.
She turned to Gage and sighed. Subdued now, she said, "I'll request a meeting with the Council. But rest assured, I won't be under your roof come nightfall."
Jenna spooned oatmeal into Lily's mouth, swiped the baby's chin with a napkin and then looked across the table at Arlene. "Thanks for letting us stay with you last night," she told her friend.
They were eating breakfast at Hannah's restaurant just down the street from Arlene's house. Having barged in on Arlene yesterday afternoon, Jenna had invited her to breakfast at the diner with the hope of offering the woman a small treat as a show of appreciation for her generous hospitality.
There had been another reason Jenna wanted to go out to eat. As a diversion for Lily. It seemed the toddler was feeling out of sorts. Jenna feared it was because she was missing Gage. Lily and Gage had developed a surprisingly close bond over the past weeks. The baby seemed to sense when he was about to come in from the stable for the evening, and Lily's bedtime ritual included a hug and a kiss from Gage. She'd had trouble falling asleep last night and had awoken several times during the night. Jenna felt badly that yet another person was being yanked out of Lily's life, but for the life of her she didn't know how it could be helped.
"It's no problem," Arlene said. "You know that. You and Lily are welcome to stay for as long as you need."
Hannah moseyed over to their table and refilled her mother's coffee cup. She looked at Jenna, lifting the pot. "More?"
"Please." Jenna slid the cup and saucer toward Hannah, but was careful to keep well out of Lily's reach.
"I'm sorry you and Gage are having trouble," Hannah said casually.
"I'm afraid this is more than trouble," Jenna admitted. "I won't be going back there."
Arlene reached across the table to pat Jenna's hand. "Don't say that. The two of you might be able to work things out."
Jenna loved having the support of friends. It made her feel less alone.
She shook her head. "I don't think that will be possible. Gage has . . ."
Issues was the word she was going to use, but she left it unsaid. Yes, he was living with a tremendous amount of guilt. Yes, he refused to see the future as the bright hope it was meant to be. But it was the fact that he refused to open his heart to love that was going to make it impossible for Gage to ever find happiness. That was the overwhelmingly sad fact of the matter.
The door of the diner opened and Gage strolled in. Something amazing happened to Jenna's entire body. She tingled. All over. He looked so good standing there in his tight T-shirt and form-fitting jeans. His long hair was loose, his black eyes intense.
She did a quick emotional assessment.
Did he look as if he'd slept well? Was he worried? Upset?
Jenna knew she shouldn't care. But she did.
Holy heaven! She was in love with the man.
She'd suspected it yesterday when he'd cut her to the bone with his angry words and blame. She'd considered the notion again last night when she'd lain in that lonely bed at Arlene's house, her mind incapable of thinking about anything but Gage. And she'd nearly come to the fearful conclusion this morning when she awoke from a vivid, extremely erotic dream featuring Gage.
But each time the suspicions would creep in, she'd done her best to shut them out. However, there was no sense denying reality when it was staring her right in the face.
She loved Gage Dalton. Every thought in her head, every cell in her body was screaming the truth.
"Hi there, Gage," Hannah greeted. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"Yes, please," he said, but his eyes never left Jenna. "But I'll take it to go, Hannah, il you don't mind. I've got work waiting for me at home."
He strode across the diner toward Jenna's table.
Arlene murmured, "Maybe I should excuse myself. Give you two some privacy."
"Don't you move," Jenna warned, tossing the woman a quick, narrow-eyed glance.
The instant Lily realized Gage was nearby, she clapped her hands and then raised her arms toward him. As though it was second nature, Gage reached out and plucked the toddler from the high chair.
"Morning, sunbeam," he said. Lily wrapped her small arms around his neck and stole a hug. For an instant, Gage looked as if he was in paradise.
Holding the toddler in one arm, he directed his attention to Jenna. "Good morning."
She nodded a silent greeting.
Arlene slid her chair out. "I need to visit the ladies' room," she said in a rush. "Sit down, Gage." Avoiding Jenna's eyes, Arlene added, "I'll be back in a sec."
Traitor, Jenna wanted to call after her.
Gage remained standing. "I found this at the house." He held up a blue stuffed toy elephant that was one of Lily's favorites. "I thought Lily might miss it."
Jenna had been so focused on his handsome face that she hadn't even noticed he'd been carrying the animal. Lily giggled, accepting the toy from Gage as if it were abrand-new plaything.
What Lily misses, Jenna wanted to say, is you. But voicing that thought would be pure foolishness. He'd made his feelings clear. Having Jenna and Lily at the ranch only churned up Gage's guilt. Made him angry enough to lash out at Jenna. She refused to subject herself or the baby to that.
"Thank you." So he wouldn't misinterpret her expression of gratitude, she added, "I'm sure Lily appreciates your bringing her elephant to her."
With the baby's attention on the stuffed animal, tension seemed to settle over Jenna and Gage. He shifted his weight on his feet. She had to concentrate to remain still. Clearly, they were both discomfited.
Finally, he asked, "Were you able to schedule a meeting with the Elders?"
She nodded. "But not until tomorrow. Hoo'ma said one of the Council members is out of town. They agreed to see me at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon."
"Would you like me to be there?"
The offer startled her. "Why?" The question tumbled off her tongue before she-could stop it. Without allowing him to answer, she said, "No, I don't think that will be necessary."
"Okay. Whatever you want."
Oh, no, she thought. That statement was dead wrong.
Strain pulled the air taut again. Gage transferred Lily to the crook of his opposite arm.
"After I tend the horses this morning," he said quietly, "I've got to drive into Billings to meet a client. I won't be home all afternoon. So if you want to come out to the ranch to work, you're welcome to."
Jenna had left her computer at Gage's house, telling him she'd come for it when she and Lily were settled.
"Thanks," she told him. "I might do that."
It felt as if the atmosphere grew weighted.
"Well, if there's nothing else ..." He paused. "I guess I'll be going."
But he didn't go, and Jenna couldn't help but think he had something more to say. Or that he suspected she had more to say and he wanted to give her every chance to say it. Well, she'd said everything that had been on her mind. Yesterday.
Gage kissed Lily on the forehead, then gently handed her over to Jenna and turned away from them. He stopped at the register long enough to pay Hannah for his coffee, and then he left the diner.
Nerves twittered in the pit of Jenna's belly to the point that she actually felt queasy. She watched the small group of Elders enter the room and take their seats at the head table.
Through the whole ordeal of facing the deaths of Amy and David, of uprooting herself in order to take care of her niece, Jenna had learned just how strong she was. Oh, she had grieved. However, she'd managed her grief well, she believed. As well as grief could be managed, anyway. She even felt that she'd risen above her anguish in order to create a loving and nurturing environment for Lily. But it would be foolish for her to think she had overcome all her vulnerabilities. The Council members casually chatting at the front of the hall had the power to turn her world upside down again. Jenna truly feared the Elders' response when she told them that she and Gage had separated.
Would they take the baby from her?
The silent question scared her so badly, she could scarcely put two coherent thoughts together. She would not allow anyone to come between her and her niece.
Being the oldest member of the Council, Hoo'ma opened the meeting with a formal greeting, and then asked everyone to bow their heads in prayer as she asked The Great One to be with them and help them in their job of guiding the tribe.
"As all of you know," Hoo'ma addressed the group, "Jenna Dalton has asked to meet with us today." The old woman directed her dark gaze to Jenna. "This is a small community, and news travels faster than the wind. Many of us are aware that you and Lily are staying with Arlene Johnson. We are grateful to you for asking to meet with us. Gossip and innuendo are terrible things, like mean floodwaters that eat away the soil from around a tree's roots. Eventually, even the mightiest oak will fall.
"In light of the situation we are in," Hoo'ma continued, "I hope that you have come here to put an end to hearsay by letting us know exactly what is taking place."
Were it not for the deep concern and obvious support shadowing the woman's gaze, Jenna would have had trouble maintaining eye contact with Hoo'ma. For some reason, her earlier-than-expected separation from Gage made Jenna feel as if she'd failed everyone on the Council. Nerves dried out her lips and she skimmed her tongue along them, and then balled her fists anxiously.
Jenna looked down the row of Lenape Elders. She saw a wide variety of emotions reflected in their laces doubt, disappointment, curiosity, encouragement and regret. Chee'pai's expression could only be described as smug. But Jenna refused to let the shaman intimidate her.
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