of Dr. Travis Westcott—single Dr. Travis Westcott.
But her grandmother, the senior member of the Council Elders, had asked Diana to make this trip, to prepare a set of five-year-old twin boys for their naming ceremony, as a personal favor. Diana had been taught to grant all her Elders the utmost respect, and she’d have at least considered the request no matter which Council member had approached her. But she loved her grandmother dearly. She’d move heaven and earth if doing so would please the woman who had raised her.
Diana knew that the doctor was a successful man. Someone who could afford to raise and educate the young twins. A man who took his responsibilities seriously. And he was half Kolheek. These had been the facts that had swayed the Council to allow their own to be adopted by someone living off the reservation.
But the thing that concerned Diana was Travis Westcott’s single status. With her heart barely mended from her difficult divorce, she didn’t relish the thought of being cooped up in a house with a man who was most probably “on the hunt.” Since returning to the reservation ten months ago, she’d been pursued by every bachelor within the reservation boundaries, and even some outside them. She’d turned down more date invitations than a Christmas turkey had feathers. Why couldn’t men take no for an answer without getting their pride all knocked out of joint?
Her grandmother had told Diana that her worry about suffering the doctor’s attentions was like interest on a loan she may never owe. Then the woman had gone on to assuredly say that she felt Diana could handle herself in any situation. “If the need arises, simply be honest with the man,” her grandmother had suggested. “Just as you’ve been with the others.”
So Diana had decided to do just that. She’d help Jared and Josh, and she’d do her best to steer clear of Travis Westcott.
However, she couldn’t help but wonder how the doctor was going to react to the Elder’s condition of having a Medicine Woman live in his home for a while. Men were strange creatures who didn’t take very well to ideas that weren’t their own. Diana’s mouth quirked up at one corner. Her grandmother—amazing woman that she was—would convince him that the stipulation was necessary, Diana was certain of it.
Just then the door opened, and she was summoned into the Council room.
The air was thick, and one look at Travis Westcott’s face told her he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t happy at all. But even with a frown marring his high, intelligent forehead, she couldn’t help but recognize that he was a handsome man. A very handsome man.
Surprisingly, her knees turned rubbery and her stomach churned as if it had been invaded by a slew of fluttering butterflies. This anxiety bewildered her. Was she worried because the man was so obviously irritated? Or because he was so startlingly handsome?
What nonsense, she silently chided. She stood a little straighter. Never again would she be intimidated by an angry man. Or a handsome one, either, for that matter.
His displeasure seemed tempered, even if only for a moment, as his jet-black gaze perused her face. Something lit in his eyes. Surprise? Appreciation? Interest? Mere curiosity? Diana couldn’t tell. But she felt her mouth draw into a hard line. She refused to be concerned with his curiosity, his appreciation or his interest, and she immediately averted her gaze, focusing her attention on the Council members. More specifically, her grandmother.
“Dr. Westcott,” her grandmother said to the doctor, “I’d like you to meet my granddaughter, Diana Chapman. Diana, Dr. Westcott.”
The doctor met her halfway and reached out to shake her hand.
His grip was firm and warm and…secure.
She had to force herself not to step back in surprise at the thought. Why would that descriptive term come to mind? But she didn’t have time to linger over the unsettling question.
“Please,” he said to her softly, “call me Travis.”
She offered him a professional smile. “Only if you’ll call me Diana.”
He nodded, holding onto her hand for what she felt was a little longer than necessary. Then every inch of her skin prickled with awkwardness and her palm felt distinctly chilled when contact between their hands was broken.
“Congratulations on the successful adoption of Jared and Josh,” she said.
“Thanks.” He then added, “I think.”
Was the aside his attempt at good-natured teasing? she wondered. His own self-doubt? Or was he rebelling against her presence being forced on himself and the boys?
“I’m not sure yet that the adoption is successful,” he said.
“Be assured—”
Diana looked toward the Council table as her grandmother spoke to Travis.
“—the adoption is complete. Now that you have agreed to accept Diana’s help, we are happy to release the boys to you.”
The doctor’s immense happiness seemed to fairly pulse from him, Diana observed. But the frown on his brow quickly returned.
“For how long?” he asked.
The Council, as a whole, looked confused by his question. But it was Diana’s grandmother who continued to speak on their behalf.
“Forever,” she told him. “Or at least until Jared and Josh reach maturity.”
“No, no,” he said. “I wasn’t referring to the boys. Um…no offence to Ms. Chapman—”
“Diana,” she softly reminded him. Surely they could be on a first name basis and still act professionally toward each other.
At her prompt, his mouth curled slightly at the corners as he cast her a quick glance, and Diana got the nerve-racking and overwhelming sense that, if this man were to ever truly smile at her, his face would be transformed from merely handsome to utterly and breathtakingly gorgeous.
He directed his gaze at her grandmother. “Just how long will I be expected to…” His words trailed into a brief and awkward pause. He tried again. “How long will Diana be with me and the boys?”
The elderly woman nodded her understanding. “In two short months the boys will turn six. It is the Kolheek tradition to hold a naming ceremony on—or close to—a child’s sixth birthday.”
Diana watched Travis shake his head.
“Naming ceremony? But the boys already have names.”
“Kolheek names,” the Council woman explained.
Knowing she could clarify in a way he would understand, Diana offered, “Long ago, the infant mortality rate was very high. Parents discovered it was best to wait—”
“That is the rationalization given by cultural professors at colleges and universities.” Diana’s grandmother enunciated the words with gentle but firm disapproval. “The real reason is that the Kolheek believe a child should have the chance to develop a personality before he is gifted with a name.”
A patient smile tugged at the corners of Diana’s mouth. This wasn’t the first time she and her grandmother had clashed over her academic cultural studies of the Kolheek
