Even now, Hank, Shane's foreman, watched over him like a mother hen.
When Shane had left in search of Rebecca, Tanner asked to come along. Feeling he was too young, and not wanting to put his son's life in danger, Shane had told him no, insisting he stay and help Hank and the other hands prepare a room for Rebecca. Shane knew Tanner tried to show some enthusiasm toward having his young cousin come live with them, but again the all male environment was about to be invaded. He could only hope things went well between them. He'd become accustomed to having just the two of them in their spacious home--a home built for he and Lily and the four children they had planned to have. It would be different to have a young girl underfoot, but they would manage.
Thoughts of his ranch slipped away when from the corner of his eye he saw the flap to the half-breed's teepee open and the white women step out. Jordan held Rebecca's hand in her own. Their hair was plaited identical, their dresses so alike, they could have passed as mother and daughter, or even sisters. Shane watched as Jordan glanced toward the group of men, her gaze lingering on the half-breed. It was the first time Shane had seen the man's face soften. But when she quickly looked away, all softness disappeared. Shane lifted a brow, curious.
Shane's glance instantly moved to the blonde who'd confronted him yesterday. The thin doeskin dress hug provocatively to her curves, stopping just below her knees. She wore moccasins, and Shane found himself staring at the expanse of skin that was exposed between the hem of her dress and the tops of her moccasins. Her calves were well-defined, much as he guessed her thighs would be. Her legs were long and she was taller than all of the Indian women in the village he had seen this far, though he doubted she'd reach to his collar bone.
Filling his mug with coffee, he smiled when he looked up to find her watching him. She was stirring something in a black kettle, her movements methodical, her look pure ice. She then poured a bowl full of the fare and surprised him when a moment later she walked toward him. Instinctively he readied himself to get a face full of whatever it was she held in her hands.
She smiled, though it appeared strained, and asked in a too-sweet voice, "Would you like something to eat, Mr. Catalono?" Her jaw was clenched so tight he wondered why her teeth didn't snap. It was obvious she had been asked to serve him, no doubt by the half-breed who watched their every move.
He raised a brow. "That depends, what's on the menu?"
Her eyes narrowed, obviously realizing his question held a double innuendo.
"I didn't ask. I usually don't, I just eat what's available."
He glanced down at the bowl in her hands. "Is that because you don't like knowing what's in your stew, Miss..."
Her eyes widened, and he could see the wheel turning in her mind.
"Well, are you going to tell me your name?"
"Hoffman," she blurted, pushing the bowl at him. Their fingers touched for a second and she jumped as though burned.
He smiled. "See, that wasn't so hard. Nice to meet you, Miss Hoffman."
Her mouth opened, but she quickly snapped it shut. Another few awkward moments passed before she blurted, "I'm sorry for yesterday. I had no right to speak to you as I did. I know that you came to get your niece, and it is a very noble thing indeed. I was just concerned--"
"Apology accepted," he said, smiling at the blush that raced up her neck. "Miss Hoffman, how is it you and your cousin came to be captives, and what exactly is expected of you?"
She appeared more relaxed now as she watched him tentatively. "We take care of Gray Hawk's needs."
He almost smiled, but refrained. "His needs?" he repeated, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
"Yes." Her eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. "But not in the way you're
When Shane had left in search of Rebecca, Tanner asked to come along. Feeling he was too young, and not wanting to put his son's life in danger, Shane had told him no, insisting he stay and help Hank and the other hands prepare a room for Rebecca. Shane knew Tanner tried to show some enthusiasm toward having his young cousin come live with them, but again the all male environment was about to be invaded. He could only hope things went well between them. He'd become accustomed to having just the two of them in their spacious home--a home built for he and Lily and the four children they had planned to have. It would be different to have a young girl underfoot, but they would manage.
Thoughts of his ranch slipped away when from the corner of his eye he saw the flap to the half-breed's teepee open and the white women step out. Jordan held Rebecca's hand in her own. Their hair was plaited identical, their dresses so alike, they could have passed as mother and daughter, or even sisters. Shane watched as Jordan glanced toward the group of men, her gaze lingering on the half-breed. It was the first time Shane had seen the man's face soften. But when she quickly looked away, all softness disappeared. Shane lifted a brow, curious.
Shane's glance instantly moved to the blonde who'd confronted him yesterday. The thin doeskin dress hug provocatively to her curves, stopping just below her knees. She wore moccasins, and Shane found himself staring at the expanse of skin that was exposed between the hem of her dress and the tops of her moccasins. Her calves were well-defined, much as he guessed her thighs would be. Her legs were long and she was taller than all of the Indian women in the village he had seen this far, though he doubted she'd reach to his collar bone.
Filling his mug with coffee, he smiled when he looked up to find her watching him. She was stirring something in a black kettle, her movements methodical, her look pure ice. She then poured a bowl full of the fare and surprised him when a moment later she walked toward him. Instinctively he readied himself to get a face full of whatever it was she held in her hands.
She smiled, though it appeared strained, and asked in a too-sweet voice, "Would you like something to eat, Mr. Catalono?" Her jaw was clenched so tight he wondered why her teeth didn't snap. It was obvious she had been asked to serve him, no doubt by the half-breed who watched their every move.
He raised a brow. "That depends, what's on the menu?"
Her eyes narrowed, obviously realizing his question held a double innuendo.
"I didn't ask. I usually don't, I just eat what's available."
He glanced down at the bowl in her hands. "Is that because you don't like knowing what's in your stew, Miss..."
Her eyes widened, and he could see the wheel turning in her mind.
"Well, are you going to tell me your name?"
"Hoffman," she blurted, pushing the bowl at him. Their fingers touched for a second and she jumped as though burned.
He smiled. "See, that wasn't so hard. Nice to meet you, Miss Hoffman."
Her mouth opened, but she quickly snapped it shut. Another few awkward moments passed before she blurted, "I'm sorry for yesterday. I had no right to speak to you as I did. I know that you came to get your niece, and it is a very noble thing indeed. I was just concerned--"
"Apology accepted," he said, smiling at the blush that raced up her neck. "Miss Hoffman, how is it you and your cousin came to be captives, and what exactly is expected of you?"
She appeared more relaxed now as she watched him tentatively. "We take care of Gray Hawk's needs."
He almost smiled, but refrained. "His needs?" he repeated, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
"Yes." Her eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. "But not in the way you're
Similar Books
