it’s really late. You two need to get some sleep.”
“But we ain’t tired.” Even as he said the words, Jared bounded off Josh’s bed and onto his own, sliding down onto the mattress and tucking his feet under the covers.
“New situations have a way of getting you all worked up.” Travis picked up the forgotten pillow from where it lay on Josh’s bed, plumped it up and then tucked it behind Jared’s head. “But if you’ll lay still for a bit, I’m sure you’ll fall asleep soon enough.” Then he began to untangle Josh’s bedclothes.
Josh just stared at him. Finally the boy said, “It’s quiet here.”
Travis smiled as he drew the blanket up over Josh’s legs. He had no idea what the child meant by the remark.
Then Jared spoke up. “At the home, Sammy cries. A lot. And Mrs. Basset turns up the TV really loud at night. She says we give her big pains ’cause she can’t hear her shows. She gets pretty mad. Her face gets all red.”
Realizing that the boys were explaining the difference between bedtime at the orphanage and here, Travis nodded. “I see.”
“Mrs. Basset yells.” Josh’s voice was tiny. “Jared couldn’t sleep with me. One boy to a bed. That’s the rule.”
The state home had housed at least two dozen other children. The twins were probably used to constant chaos, noise and mayhem. Living here would be a distinct contrast for them. It would take some getting used to, Travis silently surmised.
“You want Jared to sleep in your bed?”
Josh swallowed, blinked in anxious hesitation, then he nodded.
Travis looked over at Jared, lifted Josh’s blanket and swiped his hand through the air in a movement meant to stir things into motion. “Don’t worry,” he told them softly. “You’ll get used to the quiet. Silence can be a nice thing.”
Jared scooted down onto the bed next to Josh. “B-but we ain’t tired,” he repeated his original complaint.
“We aren’t tired.” Travis couldn’t help correcting the boy’s improper grammar. “Like I said, if you lay still—”
“How about a story?”
Travis directed his gaze toward the soft, feminine voice coming from the doorway.
Diana was dressed in a simple white robe that was tied at the waist with a sash. Light glistened on the long, straight rope of hair that was pulled over one shoulder. The pristine fabric of the robe accentuated the coppery skin of her bare arms and legs.
Legs. Travis couldn’t help but notice the shapely knees, firm calves and tiny ankles. Even her feet were cute.
The thought startled him and he felt his eyes go wide for a millisecond, before he forced his gaze back up to her face. Damn it! Ogling this woman’s body was the last thing he’d meant to do!
He was human. A human male. The testosterone pumping though his veins made appreciating the female form a most inherent act. But if he was going to eye the woman every time they were in the same room together, he was going to be in for a long and uncomfortable couple of months.
“You—” His mouth and throat had gone dry at the sight of her and that made his voice sound gravelly. He shoved the awareness he felt aside, cleared his throat and started again. “You want to tell the boys a story?”
She nodded, her wide, sensuous mouth twisting wryly.
Her very kissable lips made his heart thud against his ribs.
“If I’m to get to sleep anytime soon,” she quipped lightly, “I think Jared and Josh need a little spirit-calming medicine.”
He cast her a quizzical glance. “Medicine?”
Her chuckle was velvety rich, like sweet cream, and the fine hairs on the back of his neck raised. Damn, but this woman was too…appealing.
Control yourself! he silently demanded.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not suggesting drugs. I’m talking about good, old-fashioned entertainment. Entertainment designed especially for…” she then turned her attention first to Jared and then to Josh as she stole closer “…little boys at bedtime.”
She sat down on the edge of Jared’s bed. Travis was conscious of how close she was. He could smell the warm, clean, lemony fragrance of her.
“Long ago,” she began, “before there were such things as paper and pencils, The People kept their history through stories. They sat around a fire at night with the stars winking at them high above, and they taught their children where they came from. They recounted tales of brave warriors and hunters. They told of times gone by. They told of their hopes and dreams to come. The children heard about floods and fire and acts of nature that formed the tribe into what it was. Through the Shaman’s words, battles were relived. Wars with other tribes over hunting rights disputes. Wars with the Europeans. The children learned of the good times, when crops and hunting were bountiful. And they heard about hardships, when blizzards came, and stayed, and made hunting impossible. The Shaman would also tell of brave leaders and great chiefs…”
Travis looked at the faces of the twins, saw that Diana had caught them up in the web she was spinning. Easing himself down to sit on Josh’s bed, Travis was extremely careful not to allow his knee to touch hers. She was so close. He looked at her face, at her expressive eyes, and found himself quickly pulled into the past right along with the boys. Her soft voice was lulling, mesmerizing, and he clearly understood what she meant when she’d said that storytelling was spirit-calming medicine.
“One such chief,” she continued, “was called Half Moon. He got his name from the pale, crescent-shaped scar he had here.” She reached up and gingerly touched her face high on the left cheekbone. “When he was a small child, he wandered into a pen of wild horses. His mother watched helplessly as the animals stampeded. They reared and bolted and bucked. They thrashed and finally broke the fence. Half Moon could have been killed. Should have been killed. But instead he walked from the pen all on his own. He’d been kicked in the face, the horse’s hoof leaving a curved gash on his cheek. The whole tribe knew that Half Moon had survived what any normal child would not have. The People knew that Half Moon would be a great man when he grew. He would be smart. And brave. And he would lead The People toward wonderful things.”
Her words were like magic, drawing them deeper and deeper into the moment. Her eyes danced with emotion, her tone rose and then softened for the greatest impact. It was clearly evident that she’d told this tale many times. That she herself reveled in the history of her tribe. And that in this verbal tradition—whether the story was myth or reality—she was celebrating her proud heritage.
Travis tore his eyes from her beaming face and looked at the boys. They, too, were held entranced by the enchantment she conjured. This connection to the past was a good thing for Jared and Josh. Of that he couldn’t be more sure than he was at this moment, seeing the fascination in their eyes.
“And Half Moon did grow to be a great man,” Diana said. “He was all the things The People knew he would be. He was a great chief. Wiser than many others. Half Moon was the man who made the Big Negotiation. He knew the Europeans were in our land to stay. He knew they would soon outnumber The People. So he made it possible for us to have a place.
