Bound by Honor by Donna Clayton Page B

tone softened as she added, "It's time you made peace with your grandfather, as well. It's silly that the two of you live so close, yet continue to let the wall of silence between you stand. Knock it down, Gage. It would be easy enough to do."
    Jenna quickly hid her surprise. She'd had no idea that Gage had a grandfather living on Broken Bow, or that they weren't speaking.
    "What's silly —" Gage's dark gaze glittered with a good-natured cheer "— is that you honestly believe I'll take your advice."
    Hannah chuckled. "Isn't there an old adage that says keep banging them over the head and someday the message will sink in? Come on," she coaxed. "Come to the dance, at least. Jenna needs to experience a gathering."
    "I'd love to go," Jenna said.
    "It's this Saturday," Hannah told them. "People will start congregating early, I'm sure, since they'll be coming from miles around. But dinner won't be served until ax. It 's a potl uck, so bring your appetite and a dish of some sort to share. Doesn't have to be fancy. There'll be a bonfire once the sun goes down. There'll be music. Plenty of dancing. And storytelling, too. You'll have fun."
    Hannah's dark eyes filled with concern as she changed the subject. "I heard you were over at the storage unit this morning. You okay?"
    Jenna hoped the smile and nod she offered would set Hannah's mind at ease. "I left Lily with your mother. Did she tell you where we went?"
    "I knew Mom was watching this cute thing —" Hannah ruffled Lily's hair eliciting a gleeful gurgle from the happy baby "— but I've had three different customers who stopped in this morning mention that they'd seen Gage's truck out at the self-storage place. I just hope you weren't too upset."
    It warmed Jenna to know she had people who were concerned about her. "I'm okay," she said. "I had a somber moment or two. That's to be expected, I guess. But I wasn't alone. Gage was right there with me."
    Jenna gazed gratefully at Gage, and had to suppress her grin when she saw that he looked ill at ease.
    "It's good to have someone to share those kinds of things with," Hannah observed.
    She patted Gage on the shoulder. "You're a good guy."
    He was a good guy, Jenna realized. Going with her on her trip to the storage unit wasn't something he'd had to do, yet he hadn't hesitated to offer his support.
    "I found lots of artwork," Jenna told Hannah. "One thing I learned today is that my sister and her husband were very prolific."
    "Are you going to sell it?" Hannah asked.
    "I haven't had a chance to think about it," Jenna said. "I sure can't leave it where it is."
    "I agree," Gage said. "It would be a shame if all that work was left hidden away in that building. I mean, David Collins had several shows in Chicago, didn't he? And you said that he and your sister would want people to enjoy their art."
    "Jenna," Hannah said, "why don't you ask the Council if you could display David and Amy's work in the Community Center? You could even post prices on them. Or you could place some of the pieces on consignment with an art gallery in Billings. Heck," she continued, "you could contact a Chicago gallery for that matter, to see if they'd be willing to sell the work for you."
    "A gallery would expect a hefty cut of the profits, I'm sure, ” Gage warned.
    The idea of selling the artwork set Jenna's thoughts churning. "A Web site," she murmured. "I could create a Web site with pictures of all the pieces." Her excitement intensified as ideas continued to come to her. "In fact, I could make a Web site to accommodate all the artisans here on Broken Bow. There have to be other artists on the reservation."
    Hannah's face lit up. "There are. John Riddle makes beautiful pottery, and his wife weaves baskets in the authentic Lenape fashion. There's a woman who still makes hide clothing — dresses, capes, trousers. I don't know if that's considered art, but I fear that'll someday become a lost skill. My cousin, Lisa Johnson, paints. So does Harold King. I'm