Hearts in Defiance (Romance in the Rockies Book 2) by Heather Blanton Page A

promised Sanchez two women,” he said more to himself than Black
Elk. The white woman should not have fought. And now we are too near the
meeting place to turn back. He wanted to bash her head in again.
    There was one other place they could get women quickly.
One-Who-Cries pondered Black Elk, the big brave towering over him like a
hulking shadow, and an idea came to him. Black Elk had been to Defiance. And
now he would go back.
    ~~~

 
     
    Eleven
     
     
    Wrapped in an old, tattered quilt, Naomi sat down on a log by the
river, her favorite place to pray. The
radiance from a brilliant full moon washed the last hour before sunrise in
shades of silver and gray. Above the pewter mountains, diamonds shimmered and
blinked in the sky. As always, this view filled up her soul. If she couldn’t
sleep, at least she could marvel at God’s handiwork.
    How many times had she retreated to this spot over the last year?
Initially she had come to fuss and fume. The ache of John’s absence and her
anger over God’s betrayal had consumed her. Slowly, though, her loving
Father had healed her and she had come to accept Defiance as a town in need of
witnesses. Even more slowly, she had accepted her feelings for Charles.
    “Why is Matthew here now, Lord?” she wondered aloud. “He makes my
life with John so fresh and the grief so raw.” She swallowed, surprised by the
tightness in her throat. “I thought I’d laid him to rest.”
    Overwhelmed with emotions she couldn’t make heads or tails of, she
sagged on the log and watched the moon beams dance on the rippling water. She
shouldn’t be confused. John was dead. Matthew was John’s twin on the surface
only. Charles had turned out to be a good man who loved her enough to take a
bullet for her and her family. Yet, she was struggling—
    “Couldn’t sleep? May I be so bold as to assume that’s because you
were thinking of me?”
    His tease, wrapped in a silky, Southern drawl released a torrent
of butterflies in her. He stood near the water’s edge with his frockcoat pulled
back on one side, his hand resting on the holstered .44. The other hand hung at
his side and his fingers fidgeted, playing piano on his leg. He started toward
her, hesitated, then ambled over and sat down. Lacing his fingers, he rested
his elbows on his knees and stared out over the glimmering water. Naomi stared
at him, taken aback by the uncertainty she sensed in him.
    “Were you? Thinking about me?”
    “Yes.” She bit her lip, feeling guilty, even unfaithful somehow,
that she hadn’t been thinking about him only . Several seconds passed and
he continued to stare at the water. Hugging herself against the chill, she
waited, giving him time to find his words.
    “It must be unimaginably difficult to see the ghost, so to speak,
of John.” He tapped his fingertips against one another. “And confusing.”
    “The grief feels fresh all over again.” A muscle ticked in his
cheek, as if he’d guessed that already and the thought wasn’t welcome. She knew
she needed to say something reassuring, for both their sakes. “Time. I just
need time to deal with it.”
    “Is it just me, or is he the spitting image of John?”
    “They are identical … were identical, in looks. That’s
where the similarities end. Matthew was quite a handful. He was always in
trouble and John was forever getting him out of it.”
    Charles sighed, a sad sound that surprised her. She’d never seen
him this unsure. He turned abruptly and straddled the log, moving closer to
her. Pushing his hat back, he searched Naomi’s face, his own gaze determined in
the steely light of dawn. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t know if I should
be worried or not. I told myself I wasn’t, yet here I am at five o’clock in the
morning hoping you’d be out here.”
    “You’re worried about us?”
    His taciturn expression hid his answer.
    Drowning in confusion, she turned her head. “I won’t lie. It’s
hard. He even almost smells like