when she told him why she’d flagged him down. What did he think? That she made a habit of standing out in the rain to direct traffic during every storm that swept across the great state of Montana?
As perturbed as she was, Jenna realized she couldn’t take her eyes off him. His shoulders were broad and muscular beneath his wet denim shirt, clear evidence that, whatever he did for a living, he worked hard. Rain saturated his long hair, turning it to a slick, black river that coursed down his back. He certainly was solid. Well built. A stone wall of a man…with granite for a brain, no doubt. She parted her lips to speak again, and tasted the sweet, cool rainwater on her tongue. Shaking her head, she forced herself into action, walking forward until she was beside him.
“It’s obvious that Kit-tan-it-to’wet had plans for me today,” he murmured. “Plans to bring relief.” His black eyes raked over her.
For the merest fraction of a second, she considered how she must look. Surely, the pelting rain had smeared her mascara. With raccoon eyes and her hair plastered to her head, she must be a frightful sight to behold.
The man seemed oblivious to her appearance, though, as he charged, “You changed my path.”
Jenna squared her shoulders. She didn’t like his tone. She had no idea what he was talking about, but a person could only take so much insolence before losing it.
“I don’t know why you would be angry,” she snapped. “Anyone with an ounce of intellect could see that I saved your butt. I kept you from driving into that.” She pointed at the dangerous waters.
Evidently unimpressed, he only stared at her, his jaw muscle ticking. Finally, he choked out, “Not only did you change my path, but now I am indebted to you. I owe you a Life Gift. One that I am obliged to repay.”
His gaze was as stormy as the sky overhead, and that completely baffled her.
“You don’t owe me anything,” she stated with as much patience as she could muster. “I did what any decent human being would do. I narrowly avoided a dangerous catastrophe, and I did what I could to see that you avoided it, too. Let’s not blow this out of proportion.”
Amy. David. The accident. Deaconess Hospital. Like sparks flashing in the darkness, the thoughts rose to the forefront of her mind.
“Look, I’ve got to go,” she told him. Her gaze darted to the cut on his temple. She saw that an angry lump had risen there. “I’m on my way to Billings. To the hospital. I could take you there. To see a doctor about that—”
With the speed of a bolt of lightning, he grasped her forearm. “I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you. I don’t know who you are, or where I can find you…”
He stopped speaking suddenly, apparently sensing her fear. He released his hold on her arm. Common sense told Jenna she should flee from this stranger who had put his hands on her, but she watched his tongue trace his bottom lip, whisking away the rainwater, and she felt something akin to static electricity dance along her nerve endings. Goose bumps rose on her arms.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t blame you for being leery. I had no right to do that.”
His tone was softer now, but he didn’t smile. Jenna got the distinct impression that smiling wasn’t something that came easily for him.
“You don’t know me,” he continued, his words rolling faster from that wide, beautiful mouth.
Beautiful? The observation nearly shocked a gasp from her. Jenna, hon, a silent voice screamed in her head, anxiety over Amy has driven you halfway to the loony bin.
“Let me try to rectify that. I’m Gage. Gage Dalton. And I live here on the rez. On Broken Bow Reservation. I was on my way to Billings. To meet someone.”
He was attempting to put her at ease; however, some self-preserving instinct told her to get away from him. Now. However, something else inside her—something bone-deep—was calling for her to stay, to listen to his explanation, which only frightened her more.
“I have to go,” she stressed, swiping the moisture from her face and backing away. “There’s been an emergency. My sister—”
Alarm cut off her words and widened her eyes when he reached out to once again halt her retreat. But he caught himself, balled his hand into a fist and lowered it to his side without touching her. “I mean you no harm.” Then he did the most extraordinary thing. He splayed his palm against his chest, right over his heart. A pledge.
Although the fear pulsing through her subsided, the urgent need to get to Amy swelled like the floodwaters of Porcupine Creek.
Without knowing exactly why, she whispered, “Jenna. My name’s Jenna Butler. I really do have to go.”
His desperation seemed to hum like a silent tune. She knew she should be on her way. Amy needed her. But Jenna simply couldn’t get the muscles of her legs to obey her frantic commands.
“Look—” his black brows inched together “—it would be impossible for me to make you understand what…to understand my beliefs. But I cannot—” He stopped. His corded throat convulsed in a swallow. “Owing a Life Gift is—” Again, he halted. “I must repay you in some way.”
Getting to Amy was Jenna’s only thought now. The swollen creek had cost her precious time. She would have to backtrack nearly ten miles to get to the interstate.
“I really don’t have time for this. I’ve already told you that you owe me nothing.”
Irritation flickered in his taut features. “It doesn’t matter what you think I do or do not owe.”
A whispery thought floated at the fringes of her brain, telling her she should feel insulted by his blunt words, but then a sudden and desperate idea flashed in her head. “There is something you could do. Say a prayer that my sister, Amy, is okay.”
With that, she turned on her heel and made a mad dash for her car. She got in, jammed the engine into gear and got herself turned in the right direction. As she sped back toward the rise in the road, she glanced in the rear-view mirror at the tall Native American standing in the pouring rain.
Chapter One
Two months later
“This is absolutely insane.” However, the murmured opinion didn’t discourage the determination in her step as she tramped across the neatly trimmed grass between the house and the gravel drive. “The man is not going to help you. He probably won’t even remember you.”
Normal, everyday behavior for Jenna didn’t customarily include talking to herself. But her life had been anything but normal over the course of the past eight weeks. Thick emotion threatened to consume her when she contemplated all she’d endured, all she continued to endure; the sadness, the grief, the overwhelming frustration of dealing with the Lenape Council of Elders. So she thrust the thoughts from her mind and, instead, focused on the reason she’d come to Broken Bow—finding a solution to her problem.
Yes, coming here might be crazy. And, yes, once she presented her proposition, the man might laugh her into next week. But she’d turned the situation over in her head every which way, and this was the only answer she’d come up with.
The
