Heart of the Hunter (3 page)

He stared down at her, one black brow arching slightly, as
if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Are you sure we can’t discuss it?” he asked in a voice as
seductive as candlelight and champagne. “Maybe grab a cup of coffee in the
motel coffee shop?”

“I’m sure,” she said, wondering if he was truly suggesting
what she was thinking. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Kelly stared pointedly at his muscular forearm, which was
resting along the top edge of the car door.

His dark eyes flashed with anger as he stepped away from the
car.

In an instant, Kelly shut the door and locked it. Shoving
the key into the ignition, she gave it a twist, put the gearshift in drive and
pulled away from the curb.

But she couldn’t resist a look in her rearview mirror. For
some reason, she had expected him to have vanished from sight, but he stood in
the middle of the narrow two-lane street, staring after her.

Kelly let out a long ragged breath as she turned the corner
at the end of the block. Whoever the man was, he intrigued and frightened her as
no one ever had.

Lee Roan Horse felt his brows draw together in a frown as he
watched the light blue Camaro careen around the corner and disappear from
sight.

His first meeting with Miss Kelly McBride hadn’t gone quite
as planned, he thought wryly. For a moment there, she had looked at him the way
most white women did, with a mixture of interest and curiosity, and then, for
no reason that he could fathom, she had stared at him as if she were seeing a
ghost.

So, he mused, what now?

Hands shoved in the back pockets of his jeans, he crossed
the street to where his battered Ford truck was parked and climbed inside, only
to sit staring out the windshield, his finger tapping on the steering wheel.
She had something he wanted and he had two choices—ask for it, or take it.

He’d tried asking…

* * * * *

Kelly sat up, jerked from a sound sleep by a sudden
coldness. She glanced quickly around the room, shivering as a gust of wind blew
in through the window across from the bed.

Her mouth went suddenly dry as she stared at the window. She
had closed it before she went to bed.

Her heart began to beat triple time as she saw a faint
shadow move in the hallway. Instinctively, she reached for the Colt .38 in the
drawer of her nightstand. Her hands were shaking as she gripped the gun in both
hands. The weapon, small and compact, infused her with a sense of security,
though she doubted she had the nerve to actually squeeze the trigger.

A board creaked in the hallway and then she saw a man
outlined in the doorway of her room.

Her heart climbed into her throat as she drew back the
hammer on the Colt. The noise seemed very loud in the stillness of the room.

“Don’t shoot.”

Kelly blinked into the darkness. She’d know that voice
anywhere.

Transferring the .38 into her right hand, she reached over
and switched on the bedside light with her left.

“What are you doing here?”

The Indian shrugged. “I don’t guess you’d believe I came to
talk?”

Kelly slid a glance at the clock on the nightstand. “At
three a.m.?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you decided to crawl in my bedroom window and have a
look around?”

He frowned. “I came in the front door. You really should
lock it, you know.”

“The front door?” Kelly glanced at the curtains fluttering
in the faint breeze. “Then how did the window…?”

“What?”

“Nothing. You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing
here?”

“I want to buy the Triple M.”

“I told you this afternoon, it isn’t for sale.”

“This is Lakota land. My land.”

“Excuse me, but I believe this is
my
land. I have the
deed to prove it.” Or she would have, come Friday afternoon.

“I don’t care if you have a trunk full of deeds. This is
Lakota land, stolen from my people over a hundred years ago.”

Kelly grimaced. “And you expect me to give it back to you,
just like that?”

“I said I’d buy it.”

Kelly let out a sigh of exasperation, wondering how such a
remarkably attractive man could be so obtuse. He’d changed clothes, she
noticed, and thought he looked even more handsome and more dangerous, dressed
all in black.

“And I said it’s not for sale. Case closed. Now, get out of
here before I call the police and have you arrested for…for…”

“Breaking and entering,” he supplied, his voice suddenly as
hard as the look in his dark eyes.

“Whatever. Goodbye.”

He didn’t move, only continued to stare at her from out of
eyes as black as the night. The gun wavered in Kelly’s hand and for a moment
she had the impression that the Indian in the cave was standing in front of
her.

Put it back.

Kelly blinked several times. “Did you say something?”

He frowned. “No, why?”

“I thought…I mean… Never mind.” She shivered as she felt it
again, the same cold chill she’d felt in the cave.

“Are you all right?” the Indian asked. “You look like you’re
about to faint.”

“I’m fine,” Kelly said. “I’ve never…”

The words died on her lips as she stared past the Indian to
the wall behind him. She watched in stunned disbelief as his shadow took on the
shape of an eagle, its wings spread in flight…

“You’ve never what?” he asked, frowning.

“Never…fainted,” Kelly replied, and then everything went
dark.

When she came to, she was lying in her bed. The covers had
been pulled up to her chin and there was a cold washcloth over her brow. The
Indian—she’d have to ask his name, she thought groggily—was standing beside the
bed staring down at her, a frown on his handsome face. He’d taken her gun and
shoved it into the waistband of his jeans.

“You okay?” he asked.

Kelly nodded, her gaze fixed on the gun.

He shook his head ruefully. “Would you feel safer if I gave
it back to you?”

“Probably, but my hands are shaking so badly I don’t think I
could hold it. What happened?”

He shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me. One minute we were
talking and the next you turned white as the sheet and keeled over.”

Kelly’s gaze slid past him to the far wall. “It’s gone.”

“What’s gone?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Nothing.”

He grunted. “I put the coffee on. You want some?”

“Yes, please.”

Lee Roan Horse shook his head again. She was some piece of
work, he thought. First she pulled a gun on him, then she fainted dead away for
no apparent reason and now she was as polite as you please.

He left the bedroom, returning a short time later with two
mismatched mugs of coffee.

Kelly sat up when he entered the room, her gaze fluttering
over the gun still nestled in the waistband of his pants.

“You look like the cream and sugar type,” he muttered,
handing her one of the cups.

Kelly took the mug, her fingertips brushing against his as
she did so. The contact, brief as it was, made her suddenly, acutely aware that
she was in the house alone with a man. A very virile, very attractive man who
had a gun.

“You’re not gonna faint on me again, are you?” he asked.

“No.” Quickly, she took a sip of her coffee. Heavy on the
milk and light on the sugar, it was exactly the way she liked it.

Lee sat down in the chair beside the bed and looked around.
The bedroom was small, containing only a double bed, a mahogany nightstand, a
matching chest of drawers and the overstuffed chair he occupied. The walls were
blue, bare except for an old gilt-edged oval mirror and a painting of a desert
sunset. A colorful rag rug brightened the wood floor.

Stretching his legs out in front of him, Lee regarded Kelly
McBride over the rim of his cup. She was a pretty woman, he thought. Not
blatantly beautiful, like Melinda, but pretty nonetheless. She had long curly
brown hair. Her cheeks were sunburned and there was a light sprinkling of
freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her brows were slightly arched above
soft blue eyes. Her mouth was wide and generous and he wondered how it would
look curved in a smile, how it would taste…

Kelly felt her cheeks grow hot under his intense scrutiny.
“Why did you come here?” she asked, disliking the silence between them almost
as much as she disliked the way he was looking at her.

“It’s my birthright. My ancestors were born on this land.
They fought here. They died here.”

It was the truth, Lee mused, or at least as much of it as he
was willing to tell her.

Kelly stared at him. She didn’t believe one word he said.
And then she frowned. Did he know about the gold? But that was impossible. No
one knew.

Except her. And the ghost.

Lee straightened in the chair and leaned forward. “Why won’t
you sell? You don’t belong here.”

“Oh?”

“You’re a city girl, Kelly McBride.” McBride, he thought.
Why did that name sound so familiar? “A city girl,” he repeated, frowning.
“Anyone can see that.”

“Well, I’m a country girl now.” Kelly lifted her chin
defiantly, trying not to think how right her name sounded on his lips.
“Besides, I like it here.”

Lee stared into his empty coffee cup. “I have a feeling you
aren’t going to change your mind,” he muttered ruefully.

“Finally we agree on something.”

“Yeah.” Setting his mug on the bedside table, he stood up.
“Well, good night, Miss McBride.”

“Good night, Mr.— You never did tell me your name.”

“It’s Lee,” he said as he placed the Colt on the top of the
dresser. “Lee Roan Horse.”

“Lee Roan Horse.” She repeated the name, surprised to find
that it conjured images of conical tipis and warriors bedecked with feathers
and paint riding across a vast sun-kissed prairie.

Lee turned toward the door, paused, ran a hand through his
hair, then turned back to face her again.

“I don’t suppose you need any help around here?”

Kelly’s brows shot up. “Doing what?”

He shrugged. “Whatever needs doing.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“I couldn’t help noticing the house needs a new roof. And a
coat of paint. The barn, too. The corrals could all use some new rails.”

Kelly nodded. Everything he said was true, but she couldn’t
shake the feeling that he didn’t really want a job as much as he wanted an
excuse to prowl around the ranch. Again, she had the feeling that he knew about
the gold.

“The place does need a lot of work,” she allowed, “but I’m
afraid I can’t afford to hire anyone just now.”

“That roof on the barn won’t hold up much longer.”

He couldn’t have seen the condition of the roof at night,
Kelly thought suspiciously, so how did he know how bad it was, unless he’d been
here before, during the day?

“I’d be willing to work cheap. Room and board and whatever
you feel you can afford.”

It would be a mistake. A big mistake. She didn’t trust him,
not one bit. But that wasn’t what frightened her. It was the attraction she
felt for him, the way her heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him
every day. He was far too attractive for any woman under ninety to ignore and
she was afraid he knew it, afraid he knew that just looking at him made her
feel good inside.

“No.” She shook her head. “No, I can’t…”

He took a step toward her, his eyes blazing with ebony fire,
his mouth curved in a dazzling smile.

“Sure you can,” he drawled softly.

She said yes before she realized she’d spoken the word
aloud, afraid if she refused him, the fire that burned in the depths of his
eyes would reduce her to ashes.

He had the good grace not to gloat. “You won’t be sorry,” he
promised.

She was already sorry, but he was gone before she could say
so.

It was near dawn when Kelly fell into a troubled sleep. She
dreamed of her grandfather and in her dreams he was a young man again, strong
and vigorous. But then, gradually, his features began to change, his light
brown hair darkening to the color of ebony, his freckled face turning to a
copper hue, until the man in her dream was no longer her Grandfather Frank, but
the Indian who had accosted her in the street.

It’s our land,
Lee Roan Horse said, his voice ringing
out with the strength of his conviction.
Our land!

And suddenly it wasn’t just a single voice clamoring at her,
but the combined voices of every Lakota man, woman and child who had ever lived.

Kelly pressed her hands over her ears, but she couldn’t shut
out the sound of their cries.

Helpless, she stared at the Indian, felt her heart constrict
with fear as she saw not one man, but two—one of flesh and blood and one of
spirit—two separate beings who stood face-to-face and then blended together
until they became one and faded from her sight, leaving her standing alone in
the darkness with only the pounding of a distant drum and the faint echoes of
ancient voices.

Chapter Four

She woke with the sound of drumming still in her ears.

With a grimace, she buried her head under her pillow, hoping
to shut out the noise and go back to sleep, and then she sat up.

Drumming? Cocking her head to the side, Kelly listened a
moment and realized it wasn’t the sound of a drum at all, but the sound of a
hammer.

Muttering under her breath, she slid out of bed, pulled on a
short terry cloth robe and peered out the window.

What she saw took her breath away.

Lee Roan Horse was nailing a new fence post into place. It
appeared he’d been hard at work long before she became aware of it. His shirt
hung over the top rail of the corral, but it was the broad expanse of his back
that drew her gaze.

She’d never seen such a magnificent sight in all her life
and she couldn’t help staring, her feminine eye pleased with the symmetry of
broad shoulders that tapered to a firm, narrow waist. His muscles rippled
beneath smooth copper-hued skin, skin sheened with a fine layer of
perspiration. His hair was long and black and beautiful, surely the envy of
every woman who’d ever seen it.