“You owe me for saving your life.

You told me so yourself. You called it something. A life present?”

Gage hadn’t forgotten. The debt he owed Jenna had weighed heavily on his mind over the past weeks. He had every intention of returning the favor. Somehow. Someway. If he did not, he would suffer for all eternity, for his soul would not be permitted to cross over to the other side. However, he refused to believe that the gift would take the form of a wedding band.

“Life Gift,” he corrected. “But you can’t expect me to marry you.”

“Do you owe me, Gage Dalton?”

Chagrin shot through him, and he knew she sensed it. And it only made her doggedness all the stronger.

“Are you going to pay your debt…or aren’t you?”

Jenna Butler had him backed into a corner, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

Dear Reader,

What is the best gift you ever received? Chances are it came from a loved one and reflects to some degree the love you share. Or maybe the gift was something like a cruise or a trip to an exotic locale that raised the hope of finding romance and lasting love. Well, it’s no different for this month’s heroes and heroines, who will all receive special gifts that extend beyond the holiday season to provide a lifetime of happiness.

Karen Rose Smith starts off this month’s offerings with Twelfth Night Proposal (#1794)—the final installment in the SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE continuity. Set during the holidays, the hero’s love enables the plain-Jane heroine to become the glowing beauty she was always meant to be. In The Dating Game (#1795) by Shirley Jump, a package delivered to the wrong address lands the heroine on a reality dating show. Julianna Morris writes a memorable romance with Meet Me under the Mistletoe (#1796), in which the heroine ends up giving a widower the son he “lost” when his mother died. Finally, in Donna Clayton’s stirring romance Bound by Honor (#1797), the heroine receives a “life present” when she saves the Native American hero’s life.

When you’re drawing up your New Year’s resolutions, be sure to put reading Silhouette Romance right at the top. After all, it’s the love these heroines discover that reminds us all of what truly matters most in life.

With all best wishes for the holidays and a happy and healthy 2006.

Ann Leslie Tuttle

Associate Senior Editor

Bound by Honor
Donna Clayton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Books by Donna Clayton

Silhouette Romance

Mountain Laurel #720

Taking Love in Stride #781

Return of the Runaway Bride #999

Wife for a While #1039

Nanny and the Professor #1066

Fortune’s Bride #1118

Daddy Down the Aisle #1162

*Miss Maxwell Becomes a Mom #1211

*Nanny in the Nick of Time #1217

*Beauty and the Bachelor Dad #1223

†The Stand-By Significant Other #1284

†Who’s the Father of Jenny’s Baby? #1302

The Boss and the Beauty #1342

His Ten-Year-Old Secret #1373

Her Dream Come True #1399

Adopted Dad #1417

His Wild Young Bride #1441

**The Nanny Proposal #1477

**The Doctor’s Medicine Woman #1483

**Rachel and the M.D. #1489

Who Will Father My Baby? #1507

In Pursuit of a Princess #1582

††The Sheriff’s 6-Year-Old Secret #1623

††The Doctor’s Pregnant Proposal #1635

††Thunder in the Night #1647

The Nanny’s Plan #1701

Because of Baby #1723

Bound by Honor #1737

Silhouette Books

The Coltons

Close Proximity

Logan’s Legacy

Royal Seduction

DONNA CLAYTON

is a bestselling, award-winning author. She and her husband divide their time between homes in northern Delaware and Maryland’s Eastern Shore. They have two sons. Donna also writes women’s fiction as Donna Fasano.

Please write to Donna care of Silhouette Books. She’d love to hear from you!

Dear Reader,

I have long been interested in and captivated by Native American cultures, and I’ve done quite a bit of research that I’ve used in such books as The Doctor’s Medicine Woman, Close Proximity, in my three-book series called THE THUNDER CLAN, and in this book, Bound by Honor.

Although many Native American tribes did not have a written language, they did have a strong oral tradition that kept (and continues to keep) their history vividly alive. Naturally, this custom touches the storyteller in me. I can easily imagine sitting in an intimate circle with family and friends while listening to dramatic tales of the past.

While doing some reading from my ever-growing reference library, I came upon an account of the belief in the Life Gift. If a person’s life is saved by another, then that person owes a Life Gift—a debt that must be repaid. The idea intrigued me, and soon the plot of Bound by Honor began to take shape.

This book holds a special place in my heart. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Prologue

The wipers thumped furiously across the windshield. Jenna Butler leaned forward, straining to see the narrow road through the thick curtain of driving rain. Her knuckles were white against the gray steering wheel, every muscle in her body stiff. Worry and fear ripped at her gut.

Amy had to be okay. Jenna refused to consider any notion other than arriving at the hospital to find her sister bright-eyed and chattering away as usual. The harried E.R. nurse who had called from Deaconess Hospital offered little in the way of information, only notifying Jenna of the auto accident and urging her to come to the hospital as soon as the storm subsided.

Spring always brought rain to the southern plains of Montana, but storms of this magnitude were rare. Black clouds billowed and ill-omened thunder rolled across the sky. However, bad weather couldn’t keep Jenna from Amy, not if her sister had been shaken up…or hurt…or worse.

Panic chilled her to the bone. No! Jenna wouldn’t think that way. Amy was fine. She was healthy, and whole, and fine.

Jenna repeated the silent chant as the car crested a small rise in the road. Her spine went rigid when she registered the danger that awaited her directly ahead. She stomped on the brake pedal. The tires squealed in protest, and the back end of the car fishtailed. Jenna’s heart hammered. A scream gathered at the back of her throat, but it died when the tires grabbed the blacktop and the car came to a sudden, jerky halt.

Inhaling a ragged breath, she blinked, realizing that she was staring at a field of sodden wheat. Luckily, she was still on the asphalt, but her car straddled both lanes, perpendicular to oncoming traffic. The wipers slapped a rhythmic tune, the engine purred, rain battered the roof in a torrent. She looked to her left and saw the sloped road from where she’d come. To her right, she saw the water. That wasn’t just water, she realized. It was a river. A flash flood had washed out Reservation Road.

It was too late to regret not having taken the highway. Getting to the hospital in Billings as quickly as possible had been Jenna’s only thought, so she’d taken the shortest route, the one that cut through Broken Bow Reservation. She pounded the steering wheel in frustration.

Lights in her peripheral vision drew her attention. The water coursing down the window distorted her view, but there was no mistaking the pickup that was racing over the small ridge in the road. The driver didn’t slow down, but headed straight for her. Adrenaline surged. If she pulled her car forward to avoid a collision, the approaching driver might plunge headlong into the floodwaters roiling across the washed-out road.

Without hesitation, she shoved open her door. Fat raindrops pelted her full in the face as she bolted from the car, waving her arms frantically.

Rubber screeched against the wet pavement and the battered truck spun in a circle before skidding onto the narrow strip of weedy mud that separated the roadway from the wheat field. Stunned, Jenna shoved her hair from her face and raced to the truck. The handle felt icy against her fingertips as she pulled open the driver’s side door.

“Are you all right?” Even as the question burst from her lips, she could see the trickle of blood oozing from a small cut on the man’s temple. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Oh, Lord, you’re hurt.”

He looked up at her then, and Jenna felt as if a rumble of stormy thunder had shuddered through her being. Never had she seen eyes so black. Like chips of polished onyx. His fierce gaze seemed to latch onto her, connect with something deep within, tug at her very soul.

Jenna swallowed. Suppressed the shiver that threatened to jolt through her. And then she took a tentative backward step.

What was the matter with her? Whimsy had never had a place in her thought processes. Romanticism was Amy’s department. Jenna was logical. Rational. Suddenly, she understood. She was running on pure, high-octane nervous energy.

“I-is anything broken?” she stammered. “Can you move?”

The man had the high, regal cheekbones and swarthy complexion distinctive of Native American ancestry. She had no choice but to admit that he was handsome. He was more than merely handsome. Striking would be a better word to describe him.

Again, she was astounded by his eyes. Black orbs that seared into her like laser beams. Suddenly, she had the thought that she should do or say something before she fell headlong into his inscrutable gaze.

Tilting her head a fraction, she carefully enunciated, “Are you able to respond? Can you hear me?”

His sharp features grew taut with obvious annoyance. Great, Jenna thought. Dealing with an angry man was the last thing she needed.

“Of course, I can hear you.” Accusation honed his tone to flint. “I could have run you over. What the hell are you doing in the middle of the road?”

Saving your lousy neck, she wanted to snap at him, but didn’t. Instead, she stood there with rain running down her face in rivulets, soaking through her clothes until they were plastered to her skin, and explained, “Porcupine Creek overflowed its banks. The road’s washed out. I nearly drove into it myself.”

Seemingly unmindful of the downpour, the man shoved himself from his truck and stalked up the road far enough to view for himself the flood churning and swirling as it raced across the yawning gap in the asphalt. She wondered if he hadn’t believed her 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 plain plank steps leading to the door of the rustic but contemporary ranch were sturdy under her feet. The covered porch offered a shady respite from the sweltering summer sun. The house was built with rough-hewn timber. Lifting her hand, she rapped on the door before anxiety stole away her nerve.

During the past weeks, the reservation had become a familiar place to her…a place filled with little more than apprehension and defeat. When the idea of garnering the help of Gage Dalton had popped into her head several days ago, she’d begun asking around about him.

However, as hard as she’d tried, she’d been unsuccessful in getting anyone to talk about him. What little information she had been able to gather about the man had left her feeling extremely unsure as to whether she should even attempt to approach him. But she simply had to do something.

Jenna hated feeling desperate, but that was exactly how she and her circumstances could be described. If he turned his back on her, she didn’t know what she would do.

When he didn’t answer the door, unexpected relief swept through her.

“Get in your car and drive away,” she muttered under her breath. But instead of listening to reason, she reached up and knocked again. This time even harder. A mocking voice inside her head warned once again that this scheme was utterly outrageous.

The house showed no sign of life.

Dalton pretty much keeps to himself.

Rarely leaves his ranch.

Prefers to be left alone.

Those were the few pieces of information Jenna had accumulated while trying to locate Gage Dalton. Those who had talked to her had made him sound like some kind of hermit. And each and every person she’d approached, whether they offered information or not, had cast a peculiar glance, obviously wondering why she was searching for the man, but thankfully they’d been too polite to probe.

At a nearby service station, the talkative teenage boy who had checked her car’s oil had commented, “We haven’t seen much of Gage for the past year.” Then he’d offered the most curious clue of all when he’d added, “The accident changed him.”

Although she’d wanted to query further, other customers had occupied the boy’s attention.

She should have taken the teen’s words as a warning. Put together with her own tense experience with the man the tragic day of that horrendous storm, she should be running for the high hills, not seeking him out with a request for what was sure to be an awesome benevolence, if he agreed to help her. Doubt reared its head, hissing like an ugly snake, but she refused to surrender. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—back away from this. She had too much at stake.

Gage Dalton was her only hope. Her only chance of getting what she wanted.

The people of Broken Bow had inferred that Gage was an island—a lone and wounded man who kept himself isolated from the world. Well, he couldn’t avoid her. She meant to see him.

“Gage Dalton!”

Several birds in the treetops were startled into flight.

She descended the porch steps and rounded the corner of the house. To her surprise, she saw a fenced paddock where two black-and-white horses moseyed about. There were several outbuildings, as well as a large stable located down a short, dusty lane.

The property was substantial, she realized, amazed she hadn’t observed its size as she’d approached the house in her car. She turned, her gaze scanning the hard-packed, winding gravel drive. Fences spanned as far as she could see, and more horses grazed in one of several enclosed meadows. She’d seen enough western movies to identify those horses. Gage Dalton bred pintos.

She called, “Hello!”

He stepped into her view, stopping in the open double doors of the stable. Shirtless, he clasped a metal rake in one hand.

Her eyes cruised down the length of him. Sunlight gleamed against his bronze chest. Abdominal muscles rippled all the way down to the worn blue jeans that rode low on his trim waist and hugged his thighs. She dragged her gaze back up to his face. Those black eyes homed in on her, making her feel as if the very air around her had constricted. Even though he must have been nearly fifty yards away, she could sense the same tense displeasure pulsing from him as she’d felt the terrible, stormy day when they’d first met. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting a visitor, nor was he happy to see one.

The sight of him impelled her to turn tail and run. But thoughts of little Lily whispered through her mind, prompting Jenna to stand her ground. Her motive for being here was all-important. Even the formidable Gage Dalton couldn’t keep her from getting what she wanted.

Well, he could. But she planned to do everything in her power to see that he didn’t.

Ignoring his unwelcoming countenance, Jenna trudged toward him. She hoped her cheery smile hid the emotions warring inside her.

The closer her steps brought her to him, the heavier her doubt about his help grew.

A soft summer breeze fluttered the ends of his long hair.

“Hello, there.” She was pleased that her greeting came out so smoothly. But then the stammering started. “I—I was a little wet and disheveled w-when we last m-met…and it’s been weeks ago…so…well…I don’t know if you remember me, but—”

“Jenna Butler.”

Her shoulders relaxed as relief soothed the anxiety that provoked the awkward song and dance she’d just performed. Without thought, she softened her tone to nearly a whisper and murmured, “Oh, good. You do remember.”

The seconds ticking by felt like eons as the warm sunshine beat down on her head and shoulders. Finally, he shifted his grip on the wooden pole, planting the rake’s prongs into the ground. The impatience in the gesture had her nervousness sprouting to life all over again.

Jenna had known the task at hand was going to be tough, but she hadn’t realized just how tough. Now that she was face-to-face with Gage Dalton and about to ask an awesome favor…why, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt more ill at ease.

“H-how are you?” she blurted. “You hit your head during the accident, I remember.”

“I’m alive.”

She couldn’t read much from his deadpan expression. Feeling the need to infuse some amiability between them, she chuckled. “That’s good. Sure beats the alternative.”

Her humor seemed lost on him.

Grasping for something more to break the ice, she looked around her, commenting, “You’ve got a nice place here.”

“I like it.”

So he wasn’t much of a talker. She should have guessed as much, judging from what she’d learned of him. But it sure would be nice if she didn’t have to work so hard.

She had to warm things up a little before broaching the favor she needed from him. If she just blurted out her question, cold turkey, he’d think she was insane.

Jenna, my girl, a voice in her head groaned silently, you are insane.

She tried again. “The horses are beautiful.” Glancing over at the animals in the pen, she added, “I’ve never spent much time around horses, but I know those are pintos from the old cowboy movies I watched as a kid. They sure are majestic-looking creatures. Proud. Untouchable. They might be enclosed, but they sure do look wild.”

As if on cue, one of the horses snorted and clawed at the dusty ground with his hoof.

“They’re tame,” he assured her. “What you see is attitude. If a horse is broken to the point that it’s docile, it’s no better than a pack mule. My horses are intelligent and strong and spirited.”

Seemed Gage Dalton possessed a healthy share of attitude himself. Life sparked in his onyx eyes as he talked about the animals he raised. Then he leveled his gaze on her.

“Is that why you’re here? You’re interested in a pinto?”

The question elicited another chuckle from her, this one completely natural. “Oh, no,” she told him. “Not me. I wouldn’t know one end of a horse from the other.”

She couldn’t tell if the tiny crease that suddenly marred his high brow was a sign of curiosity or suspicion. He glanced down at the ground, tapped the rake absently with his foot, and then lifted his chin to meet her gaze.

“Well, you’ve found out that I weathered the accident just fine,” he said. “And you’ve complimented my ranch. And my horses. We could talk about the weather, if you like. Or how rising gasoline prices are thinning our wallets. But I’d prefer it if we cut the small talk. I have stalls to muck before I can stable those horses. Why don’t you save us both some time and tell me why you’re here?”

The blunt question left her momentarily speechless. But then, before she’d even had time to think, words began tumbling off her tongue.

“My sister died. The day of the storm. The day you and I met on the road. I remember telling you I was on my way to the hospital.” Anguish gathered in a tight ball high in her chest. “Her husband was killed, too. They…they ran off the road. The car flipped. Into a ravine. My brother-in-law died instantly. Amy…my sister…sh-she held on for several hours.” The emotion rose to knot in her throat. It became so overwhelming that she had to glance toward the horizon as she whispered, “But she passed soon after I reached the hospital.”

Jenna blinked back the tears that burned her eyes. She would not cry. She didn’t know this man, refused to show her vulnerability to him. He had to know her story, though. Otherwise, how could he understand her plight? The tribal council had forced her into a desperate situation, and that was the only reason she was here. But Gage Dalton must not see her as weak. Because she wasn’t.

It was the stark silence that drew her from her thoughts. Why didn’t he say something? What kind of person didn’t offer condolences after learning about a death in the family? In this case, two deaths.

Her gaze clashed with Gage’s, and the sentiment clouding his eyes shocked her. Sympathy rolled off him in waves. He didn’t have to say a word; everything he felt was expressed in those soft black orbs.

The muscle in the back of his jaw went taut, and he seemed to be engaged in a mental struggle of some sort. His tone was tight, his words grating, when he finally spoke.

“I know grief well.” He swallowed.

His keen, too-intense focus on her made her feel as if she were the only person alive on Earth at that moment.

“May your heart find healing.”

Of all the cards and letters, flowers and prayers she’d received from friends and business acquaintances since losing Amy and David, Jenna couldn’t recall a more comforting wish. She found his words both simple and beautiful. Abundantly so.

Hot tears made a fresh attack, but she blinked them back. She still had a great deal to explain before she could broach the sensitive subject of why she’d come to him for help. Losing herself in sorrow was something she couldn’t afford to do.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her breath hitching between the two short words. Willing a vibrant potency into her voice, she repeated, “Thank you very much.”

Another gust of warm summer wind blew across the Montana prairie lands. The sun high overhead continued to heat her shoulders and back through her light cotton top. Slowly, she was able to push the sorrow at bay and latch onto the resolve that had brought her here in the first place.

“Amy was married to a Lenape Indian who lived on Broken Bow,” Jenna told Gage. “David Collins was his name.”

“The artist?” Gage propped the metal rake he’d been holding against the stable door. “I knew he lived on the rez, even met him a couple of times. I’ve seen some of his work. Very abstract-looking. Canvases that incorporate paint as well as three-dimensional material.”

“It’s called mixed media.”

“He’s very talented.” His tone lowered an octave as he said, “I guess I should say was. He signed his works Foxfire, didn’t he?”

Jenna nodded.

Gage continued, “I think I read somewhere that his wife was an artist, too.”

Jenna nodded. “Amy was a painter. She met David in Chicago when she attended a showing of his work. They got married shortly thereafter.”

Gage shook his head. “I hadn’t heard about the accident.”

From what she’d learned of this man’s solitary existence, Jenna wasn’t surprised.

“They left behind a baby,” she told him. “Lily. My niece. She’s just over six months old.”

Emotion softened the harsh angles of his handsome face. Could that be sadness?

His reaction took Jenna aback. She hadn’t expected his compassion. Not at all. She’d anticipated he would be completely unemotional. Relieved that she’d been wrong, she hoped his empathy might impel him to help her.

Reaching up, she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear before she spoke again. “The night of the accident, Lily had been with David’s parents. I thank God every day that Lily wasn’t in that car. Health problems make it impossible for Mr. and Mrs. Collins to care for my niece, so she’s been staying with a sitter here on the reservation. A woman named Arlene Johnson. I went to collect Lily, but Arlene refused to allow me to take Lily home with me. Arlene said I’d have to get permission from the Council. I had no idea at the time what she was talking about. Amy and David left no will. But I’m family. I didn’t need anyone’s permission but the state of Montana’s to take custody of my niece.

“A lawyer in Billings told me he couldn’t help me,” she continued. “He said the residents of Broken Bow aren’t held accountable to the laws of the United States. That Native Americans govern themselves. That I would be at the mercy of the Council of Elders overseeing the tribe.” Her voice went hoarse as she added, “He didn’t offer me much hope of getting Lily.”

Gage’s chin tipped up a fraction. “Everything you were told is true. We are managed by the Elders. There are eight men and women on our—”

“I know. I’ve met them.” Her response was flat, but she couldn’t help it. Those people had made the past eight weeks of her life utterly miserable.

Evidently, he took exception to the impudent implication in her tone. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, and she wondered just how hard his pecs might feel beneath her fingertips.

Gage shifted his weight.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, embarrassed by her inability to suppress her feelings about the Elders—but probably more so that she’d become too aware of his physique.

She looked him in the eye. “I don’t mean any disrespect. Honestly, I don’t. It’s just that…well, I’ve spent the past two months feeling terribly frustrated. I’ve done everything the Council has asked of me. I’ve answered a battery of questions. I’ve opened myself completely. Revealed my past. My present. My dreams for the future. I’ve confessed that I’ve spent my whole life building my e-commerce business, maybe to my own detriment since I have no husband or children of my own. I’ve revealed my financial situation. I’ve proved that building commercial Web sites is profitable. I’ve submitted to a physical. I’ve laid out my philosophy of life. I’ve told them all they want to know. I’ve pleaded with them. Told them that I’m willing to change my whole life in order to raise Lily. Explained that losing Amy and David has opened my eyes to what family means. I begged them, Gage, during meeting after meeting. For two long months. Yet they continue to thwart me at every turn.” Her tone grew nearly frantic. “I need some help. I need an ally. And I need one now.”

Suddenly, the sympathy Gage had shown for her situation seemed to have evaporated like morning dew under the heat of the sun. At some point during her explanation of her dealings with the Elders of his tribe—she couldn’t say exactly when—his entire body had gone rigid.

He’d transformed back into the hard-hearted man she’d met the day of the storm. This was the response she’d been expecting when she first thought to seek him out.

“The only reason you came here,” he accused, “is because I’m Indian. You think I can influence the Council in some way.”

Nearby, she heard one of the horses whinny. She didn’t dare break eye contact with Gage. Doing so would send the message that she was somehow ashamed of coming here.

Well, she wasn’t ashamed. Obtaining custody of Lily was her only concern. And she’d face a bevy of Councils to get what she wanted. She’d face one angry Lenape Indian, too.

Her niece needed her. And Jenna needed to raise her sister’s baby.

An ache wrenched her heart when she pondered the notion of forever losing the guardianship of Lily. But Jenna swallowed the pain. She had a cause to plead. And she’d better come up with a damned good argument.

She squared her shoulders. “I’m not going to lie to you, Gage,” she began quietly. “I am here because you’re Native American. Lenape, specifically. David was the only man from Broken Bow that I knew. I’ve done some work for Cheyenne-owned businesses. But I don’t know any of those people well enough to ask for their help now.”

“And you know me?”

“No. No, I don’t. But I’m desperate, Gage. One of the reasons the Council won’t let me have Lily is because I’m white. I might not like the position I find myself in, but I need help from someone of Native American ancestry. Someone from the Lenape tribe. Someone from Broken Bow. And you fit all those criteria.”

His expression turned stormy, and Jenna began to feel the first pangs of hopelessness. But she plowed ahead. “Lily and I need to be together. That baby is all I have left of Amy and David. I’m the only maternal relative Lily’s got left. And David’s parents aren’t able to care for her. Like I said, they haven’t been keeping Lily. She’s been living with the sitter, for goodness’ sake!”

Despite her determination not to look weak, utter frustration made her eyes well. A huge, watery tear rolled down her face. Feeling it tickle her skin, she lifted her hand and dashed it away.

“Please try to understand,” she whispered. “I love that baby!”

The muscles in his jaw constricted. Reaching up, he rubbed his hand over his chin, then scrubbed the back of his neck, his gaze drifting off toward the horizon.

Finally, he turned his gaze to her again. “Jenna, it’s not that I don’t want to help you. It’s just that…” He shook his head and looked away again, dragging his fingers through his long, glossy hair.

His hesitation lifted her spirits the merest fraction. Was there a chance she could make her plan come to fruition? Was there a chance she’d made him grasp the gravity of her situation?

Gage moistened his lips then, riveting Jenna’s gaze to his mouth. She wondered about his kiss. Would it be searing? Would it be sweet? Would it be soft?

A strange current danced through her. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply through her nose, exhaled through her mouth. Anxiety was wreaking havoc on her nervous system, making her entertain the most peculiar thoughts.

“Look, Jenna.”

The intensity of his black eyes jolted her.

“I just don’t see how I can help you. I do understand that you need someone to do something. You need someone—an Indian—to plead your case to the Council. You need someone to stand up for you. But this doesn’t have anything to do with me. It’s none of my business.” He pressed his palm flat against his chest. “I’d give you a character reference. But I don’t even know you.”

Oh, God. He was turning her down. Misery sank in her gut like a lead weight.

“It’s not a character reference I need, Gage.” She might as well come completely clean. What could it hurt at this point? “As I told you, one of the reasons the Council won’t let me have Lily is because I’m white. The other reason is because I’m single.”

Confusion knit his brow. Jenna bit back a frustrated sigh. He still wasn’t getting it. She was going to have to spell it out.

“What I need—” she spoke slowly and succinctly, “—is a husband.”

Chapter Two

Gage gaped at the woman standing before him. Staring was rude. His parents had taught him that long ago. But he couldn’t help it. The request Jenna Butler had made shocked the words right out of him and made him forget good manners.

“You’re looking at me like I’m nuts,” she said. “My idea isn’t all that crazy, you know.”

Nuts. Crazy. Perfect adjectives to describe her and her suggestion.

“For weeks, the Council has used my ethnicity as an excuse for why I can’t have Lily.”

Nervous agitation had her clenching and unclenching her fists. Gage could tell she wasn’t even aware she was doing it.

“I met with them last week. And that’s when they claimed that if I were to take her from Broken Bow,” she continued, “and raise her in the ‘white world,’ as they put it, that Lily would lose touch with her Native American heritage, that she’d forget who she is and where she came from. That she’d forget she was Delaware. I promised them I wouldn’t let that happen. But evidently, they don’t believe me.”

Gage’s gaze strayed over her lovely face. Her features were delicate—gracefully arched eyebrows, thick lashes framing almond-shaped eyes, a pert little nose. Her pale skin glowed with the iridescence of moonlight, fresh and shimmery. The noonday sun burnished her shoulder-length auburn hair, the ends curling softly and resting against the topmost part of her full, rounded breasts.

Awareness tightened deep in his belly and made his mouth go dry. Gage frowned. Admiring this woman’s body was the last thing he should be doing. He forced his gaze back to her face and immediately noticed that her eyes were doe-brown, soft and dewy. Shadowy half circles smudged the skin beneath them, evidence that she’d spent many a sleepless night wrestling with her problem.

“Finally, I became so frustrated that I lost my temper,” she continued. “I reminded them all that Lily was half white. I told them that it was wrong to keep me from raising my niece because of my race.”

His brows rose heavenward. Customarily, deeming what was right and wrong was the job of the Elders, not those who stood before them.

“I told them that I loved that baby, and that I would treat her as my own. Gage, she is my own. I was so angry. My tongue got away from me. I blurted out that if they didn’t give me custody of Lily, that it would be a sin. One that they would have to answer for.”

He imagined the Council receiving a good dressing-down from this woman and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Luckily, he wrestled it under control.

Jenna Butler was a fighter. That much was undeniable.

“How did the Elders respond?”

Fire sparked in her eyes. “They called a halt to the meeting, then and there. I phoned every day for nearly a week. I thought I’d lose my mind. Finally, they agreed to see me again. Just yesterday. That’s when I discovered their trumped-up concern that I was single and unable to give Lily a stable upbringing.”

She shook her head in aggravation, her hair brushing those luscious mounds of—

Gage cut his eyes to the ground, studying the toes of his dusty work boots.

“It’s not fair, Gage. And it’s not right! I’m not going to let them do this to me. Or to Lily.”

He couldn’t help but admire her determination and strength. She had a will of iron. That was good. Going head-to-head with the Council, she would certainly need it.

Her chin tipped upward. “I don’t want to lower myself to begging. But if that’s what it will take to get you to help me, then I will. Please, Gage, I need you.”

What the hell could he possibly say to this woman?

Reaching behind him, he pulled a kerchief from his back pocket and swiped it across his brow. Not that he was hot or perspiring. He was stalling for time. He needed to think. He needed to come up with some way to let Jenna Butler down easy.

“Gage.”

Something in the way she said his name eased the tension in him.

“Please.”

“Look,” he began, “there’s a big difference between asking for my help and asking me to—”

His throat caught, making it impossible for him to voice the words he never thought he’d utter again.

“Marry me,” she supplied. “I’m asking you to marry me, Gage, so that I can get custody of Lily. If you’ll do this for me, the Council can’t possibly refuse me. Their excuses will be worthless. For I’ll no longer be single, and my husband will be Delaware.”

Great Spirit above! She presented her plan as if it were a completely logical course of action.

“You’re asking me to deceive the Elders of my tribe.” He bunched the handkerchief in his palm. “If they discover that I’m helping you trick them, they could force me to leave Broken Bow.”

Such drastic action hadn’t been taken for generations, as far as he knew; however, the possibility remained.

Surprise momentarily slackened her jaw. “I hadn’t realized that.” Instantly, her resolve sparked anew. “But I won’t let that happen, Gage. I promise you, I won’t.”

Although he’d had his share of run-ins with the Council, he felt the need to speak up for his leaders now. “They’re not looking to torture you, Jenna. Their number one priority is your niece’s best interest. You have to understand that. Priority number two is the tribe. David Collins’s daughter is considered by the Elders to be Delaware. It doesn’t matter that her mother was white. The child is Indian. She is an important part of the tribal clan. Think of it as an extended family. The Delaware family. The child—”

“The child’s name—” ire tightened her facial muscles “—is Lily. And she’s got Butler blood running through her, too. She might be an important part of your tribe, but she’s the only family I have left.”

Anger evidently got the better of her, and with her fists balled, she dug her toe into the dirt. A tiny tuft of dust billowed and then settled over her white canvas sneaker.

“You’re spouting off the same hogwash that the Council has been giving me for weeks.”

The woman’s steel was to be admired, but she was also beginning to annoy him. “You have no idea just how serious the Elders are about their responsibilities to this tribe.”

Defeat rounded her shoulders. “I’m terribly sorry, Gage,” she said. “I never meant to…”

She didn’t finish her sentence. Tilting her chin sharply, she looked at the sky, exhaled and then swallowed. Gage couldn’t help but notice the elegant length of her throat. Again, he dragged his attention to her face, but found himself enthralled with the ripeness of her mouth—full, moist lips that promised passion. Her kiss would taste as sweet as wild honey, he was sure.

Irritation churned in his gut as he remembered being assaulted with the exact same thought the day of the storm. The first time they’d met. That day, rainwater had streamed down her face, making her coral-colored lips glisten with tantalizing wetness. How many nights since then had he dreamed about suckling the moisture from them? Like an elusive wraith, she had haunted his sleep for weeks. He never knew when she would appear in his dreams, and when she did, he always awakened in a sweat, yearning and need pulsing through his body.

His indignation smoldered. However, his anger wasn’t directed at her, but at himself. Why wasn’t he able to control his own mind? His own flesh? These damnable carnal thoughts?

He’d concluded that his anxiety was the cause, that he was being plagued by the dreams because he was worrying about repaying the woman what he owed. However, why the night fantasies would take on such an erotic tone continued to confuse him.

“Losing Amy and David has been so hard,” she whispered. “And not being able to have Lily with me has been…well, it’s been like losing my entire family.”

Moisture made her brown eyes shine, and a tear rolled down her milky cheek. He experienced the most peculiar reaction. He wanted to comfort her. To reach out and wipe away that tear. To offer the solution she so desperately searched for.

What the hell? Had he lost his mind? Was he honestly contemplating her crazy scheme?

No! a voice in his head shouted. A union such as the one this woman was suggesting would make a mockery of the marriage he’d had—and lost. A loving union that had ended much too soon.

Marrying Jenna Butler would denigrate the memory of the woman he’d loved. The woman he continued to mourn.

Taking sacred vows that would tie him to a complete stranger in order that she might obtain custody of a baby would disrespect the infant daughter he’d lost so tragically…a child for whom Gage grieved every day of his miserable life.

“I’m sorry.” Emotion swam in the pit of his gut, hazed his thinking. But he fought to remain resolute. “Jenna, I understand your pain. More than you realize.” The lump that had swelled in his throat made it difficult to breathe. “But I cannot help you.”

Her chin trembled, and Gage had to force himself not to look away from the heartbreak expressed on her angelic face. He couldn’t let her tears affect him. He braced himself by gritting his teeth so tightly that a dull ache began to pulsate in the joints of his jaw.

“You can’t? Or you won’t?”

“What does it matter? I refuse to participate in your foolish plan. You cannot dupe the Council into handing over your niece. You try, and they’ll forbid you from having any contact with her.”

Jenna’s eyes went wide. “They can’t do that.”

“They can. And they will, if they come to the conclusion that that’s what’s best for your niece. They are the law on Broken Bow.”

Suddenly, her resolve crumbled. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with soft sobs. Discomfited, Gage stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. He sympathized with her, but there was nothing he could do.

“You owe me!” she exclaimed, jerking up her head to glare at him as she dashed at her tears. “You told me so yourself. You owe me for saving your life that day the storm washed out Reservation Road. You called it something. A present. Wasn’t it? A life present?”

Of course, he hadn’t forgotten. The debt he owed had weighed heavy on his mind over the past weeks. But since she’d presented her ludicrous proposal, he’d hoped like hell she wouldn’t remember. He had every intention of returning the favor. Somehow. Someway. If he did not, he would suffer for all eternity, for his soul would not be permitted to cross over to the other side. However, he refused to believe that the gift would take the form of a wedding band. It wouldn’t if there was any chance he could avoid it.

“Life Gift,” he corrected her. “I owe you a Life Gift.” He pulled his hands free from his pockets and lifted them, palms up. “Before you left me there on the road, you asked me to pray for your sister. I did that.”

“But your prayer didn’t keep Amy alive, now did it?”

They stared at each other in silence. Finally, he said, “You can’t expect me to marry you.”

“Why?” True concern creased her forehead. “Do your beliefs dictate against such a union? Marrying out of need rather than love?”

“No.” He shook his head. Were he not an honorable man, he’d lie his way out of this. “But you have to agree, you’re asking an awful lot of me here. Even if I would consider it, the Elders aren’t going to be fooled, Jenna. They won’t trust a marriage that’s coming at them out of the blue. They’d be suspicious. Surely, they’d require that you live here. On the rez. With me. Your husband.”

“I’m prepared to do that,” she told him. Her face was still damp, but hope shone in her still-moist eyes and eagerness brightened her tone. “A couple of months should do it, don’t you think? Surely not more than three.”

“But I don’t even know you.” He planted his hands on his hips, baffled by the fact that she was truly serious about this outrageous idea.

“Within three months,” she continued in a rush, “I’m certain I can win them over. I can prove to the Elders that I’m worthy to raise Lily. They’ll see me everywhere with her. I’ll attend all of the community functions. I’ll even participate. You have gatherings and special celebrations, right? I read about them in the paper all the time.” She didn’t wait for an answer. “And anytime we’re away from the ranch, I’ll play the part of a loving and devoted wife so no one will ever know of our marriage pact. I promise you that the truth will never come out. I’ll need to learn all I can about your culture if I’m to teach Lily. I can’t start too soon with something so important, right? The Council will love my attitude on that subject, don’t you—”

“Jenna! Stop!”

She went quiet.

“I can’t do this.” He let the words sink in, and then he firmly repeated, “I can’t.”

He braced himself for more tears, but what he hadn’t prepared himself for was the tenacity that firmed her jaw.

“So your life isn’t worth three measly months of your time?”

Accusation made her question uncomfortably sharp. Without breaking eye contact with him, she sniffed and reached up to rub the tip of her nose with the back of her hand.

Shame fell on his shoulders like a load of cinder blocks. He tried to shrug the feeling off, but it only grew heavier. He frowned.

He would not allow her to humiliate him into doing something—

“Do you owe me, Gage Dalton? The day of the storm, you made this Life Gift sound like a very serious thing.”

She had no idea just how serious.

Chagrin shot through him like white-hot lightning, and she clearly sensed it. He knew she could tell what her allegations were doing to him. And it only made her doggedness all the stronger.

She folded her arms across her chest. “So…are you going to pay your debt, or aren’t you?”

Jenna Butler had him backed into a corner, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.

“And you have proof that this marriage is actually going to take place?”

Disapproval tightened the shaman’s wrinkled face. Of all the Elders sitting at the long oak table, Chee’pai had presented Jenna with the most vehement resistance. A contrary man, he’d been adamant from day one that Lily not leave the reservation.

“Of course,” Jenna told him. Nerves writhed in her stomach, turned her knees jelly-weak, but she made every effort to keep her hand from trembling when she offered the marriage license to him. He took it from her. Although he hadn’t ever been blatantly disrespectful, Jenna never failed to feel the mighty weight of his condemnation during the many Council meetings she’d attended. The man was simply and clearly opposed to her gaining custody of Lily.

He didn’t bother to look at the legal document but demanded. “Why did you not tell us of your plans to marry before today?”

Jenna squared her shoulders. “You didn’t ask.”

Chee’pai scowled at what he obviously perceived as impertinence.

“I have answered all your questions,” she reminded him. She let her gaze trail down the row of men and women. “I have held nothing back. Not one of you can say differently. How could I have answered questions that haven’t been asked?”

No one offered an argument.

“And this man is Indian?” another council member asked.

“He is Delaware,” Jenna said. “He lives on Broken Bow. And Lily and I will live here, too…with him. We’ll be married at the courthouse in Forsyth just as soon as the blood test results are in.”

Montana’s required test for rubella was all that stood between Jenna and Lily.

“It shouldn’t take long. The lab tech promised to rush things for me.” She clamped her lips shut. She was talking too fast, submitting too much information.

Gage had offered to come with her to this meeting, but Jenna had felt the need to face the group alone, to see this fight to the end on her own.

Chee’pai almost shoved her license at the Elder sitting to his left, a man who actually scrutinized the paper. Something in the document made the man grow still, but Jenna didn’t have time to wonder what it might be before Chee’pai addressed the group.

“For me,” the shaman announced, “this changes nothing.”

Disappointment assailed her. She must keep a positive attitude. This man was one voice among eight. Surely, someone in the group would see reason. If no one did, she was going to have to think fast.

Gage had warned her against lying to the Elders. To do so would forever jeopardize her integrity in the eyes of the Council. Jenna had planned to speak nothing but the truth; however, desperation often made people do things they wouldn’t normally do, say things they wouldn’t normally say, act in ways that were alien. Hopefully, the Elders wouldn’t push her to those extremes.

That was one of the reasons she’d come alone. If she were forced to say or do anything reckless, she didn’t want Gage to be tainted by her wayward behavior.

The marriage license continued down the row of solemn-faced Council members.

“I have a question.”

The woman who spoke had vivid green eyes. Her long gray hair was parted in the middle and trailed over her shoulders in two thick braids. Her bony shoulders were rounded by the years.

“I mean no disrespect,” the woman continued, “but I’d like to know when you met your fiancé. How long have you known each other?”

Anxiety flared like hungry flames, threatening to consume Jenna. Although there hadn’t been any direct accusation in the questions they’d asked, this was as close as any of them had come to suggesting she might be up to something not quite legitimate. Obviously, they’d be suspicious of the marriage. It would be silly for Jenna to think otherwise. However, before this moment, none of them had implied that she might be scheming in order to gain custody of Lily. She’d expected Chee’pai would have been the one who might make blatant charges, but it seemed that doubt had others willing to question her, as well.

Garnering control of her voice, Jenna said, “I met him before this…situation began. Before my sister died.”

It was not a lie. Jenna voiced the words with a clear conscience.

The woman nodded and said nothing more.

Hoo’ma sat at the very end of the table, and she had just finished studying Jenna’s license. The old woman’s nut-brown eyes flashed with astonishment, and Jenna grew curious. What on earth was the woman thinking? Why had many of the Elders reacted to the license with what looked to be surprise?

Hoo’ma radiated calmness, even in her silence.

Over the weeks of this ordeal, Jenna had discovered that Hoo’ma was well respected by the other Council members. It was apparent that she was the oldest member of the Council, and Jenna had inadvertently learned that her name meant grandmother in the language of this tribe. She didn’t speak often, but when she did, everyone paid close attention.

Hoo’ma leaned her frail body forward, and all eyes turned to her.

“I see that you are to marry Gage Dalton,” she said.

Jenna went still. Something had sparked in the wizened woman’s tone when she uttered Gage’s name. It was as if she wanted the others to pay attention, to take special note. The Elders who hadn’t had a chance to see the certificate for themselves did just that; the ones who had read it nodded in silent agreement. But what exactly were they acknowledging? Their reaction was puzzling.

“Gage plans to take this woman as his wife?” Incredulity sharpened Chee’pai’s question.

Hoo’ma ignored him. Lacing her knobby fingers together, she rested her hands on the tabletop and addressed Jenna. “Marriage is a sacred union, my child. The ties that bind men and women may vary. Some are brought together by love. Others by necessity. Even others by—” one of her shoulders lifted a fraction “—who knows what reasons? But the bonds between a husband and wife are the threads that hold together the very universe, and they could not—and would not—happen if the Great One opposed.”

Several aged gazes slid from Hoo’ma’s. The woman’s unspoken chastisement thickened the air. Evidently, Hoo’ma thought the doubtful questions about this impending marriage were inappropriate.

“I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate you,” she continued to address Jenna. “On behalf of the Council, I wish you and Gage every happiness.” She swiveled her head to take in her fellow Council members. “Now, I think the time has come to allow Lily to go to her rightful home.”

“Ma’ta!” Chee’pai stood.

The opposition in the man’s tone couldn’t be missed, and Jenna knew the man said no in his native tongue.

“Our tribe is dwindling by the moment!” The shaman’s face was fury-red. “We send our children off to colleges and they do not return. Our young adults leave Broken Bow for jobs in the city. If we allow this to continue, our clan will be no more!”

Unruffled by Chee’pai’s outburst, Hoo’ma looked past the shaman and directed her attention to the others at the table.

“Jenna has complied with our every demand with patience.” The woman’s wrinkled cheeks bore the hint of a smile as she murmured, “For the most part.” She slid her folded hands into her lap. “She has promised to respect Lily’s Delaware heritage. It is our tradition to give our children roots.” She squared herself to Chee’pai as she added, “It is also our tradition to give them wings. If the roots are deep enough, they will not forget from where they come.”

The shaman seethed, but he did not speak.

“This marriage is a good thing,” Hoo’ma said. “As soon as Jenna and Gage are wed, they should have Lily. They should become a family. I can feel healing and enlightenment approaching. For all concerned. I am surprised, Chee’pai, that you haven’t felt it, too.” After a pause that obviously called for reflection, she pronounced, “Let us vote.”

Chapter Three

“Are you upset about the civil service?” Jenna had finally garnered enough courage to ask the question that had been rolling in her mind since they’d left the courthouse. She glanced at Gage tentatively.

“Why would I be upset?” His attention never wavered from the road ahead as he drove his pickup on I-94 toward Broken Bow. “Other than the fact that I hadn’t planned on repaying a Life Gift with wedding vows.”

She ignored his murmured aside. She couldn’t regret having pledged herself to Gage in front of a Rosebud County clerk of the court. The marriage certificate in her possession was mandatory in gaining custody of Lily. To Jenna, it hadn’t mattered that the ceremony was short and quite dispassionate. Even with the requested rush on the tests, the wait for results had meant another excruciating week without Lily. The truth be known, Jenna was relieved to have the formalities over so quickly.

She had her doubts about Gage.

“Well,” she began, “my guess is that you’re, um, a very spiritual person. I thought that you might have felt peculiar about going to the courthouse to get married as opposed to…” She faltered for a moment. “Well, as opposed to having a religious ceremony.”

“And you came to those conclusions merely because I’m Indian?”

Accusation edged the question, and Jenna felt suddenly self-conscious. She hadn’t meant to offend him.

Before she could respond, he said, “You shouldn’t form opinions about Native Americans based solely on stereotypes.”

Now she felt insulted herself. “I was doing no such thing.”

The raised brows on his chiseled profile were clear evidence that he was unconvinced.

“I wasn’t,” she insisted, shifting on the seat.

“So why would you think I’d be upset that we married at the courthouse?” he pressed.

She lifted one shoulder a fraction. “Because of the things you said the day we met. You used a name…Kitan To-wet—” her tongue tripped over the foreign word “—I think it was. You spoke as if this was some great force or entity. Like fate. Or God.” Heat flushed her cheeks when she realized how this must sound to him, as if she had him figured out because of the things he’d said that day. “You said Kitan To-wet had plans for you, and that I’d messed up those plans.”

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