supple. Cactus kickers, her father called them. The man was not only an Indian. He was Apache, like her.
“How long you gonna stay under there?” the man asked. His voice held a hint of irritation.
She switched to Apache and asked him his tribe.
He squatted, resting on one knee to peer beneath the vehicle at her as he answered in Athabascan, speaking in the formal way of introductions. His voice was rich and deep and held a calm that made it easier for her to breathe.
“I’m Kino Cosen. My parents are Tessa and Henry Cosen. I am Bear Clan, born of Eagle. How are you called?”
“Lea Altaha.” Her voice shook only a little now. She hesitated, her lips pressing together as she decided what to say. “My parents are Oscar and Maria Altaha. I am...” Her words fell off. I am nothing. No one. The familiar shame seized her but she pushed it away.
“Salt River?” he asked, correctly guessing at her origins.
“Yes.”
“I’m Black Mountain,” he said. The two reservations were once one but had been divided east to west. Black Mountain had the higher elevation, good water, terrain and plenty of wildlife. But Salt River had more lakes, one formed by the Salt River dam, and so was considered a fisherman’s paradise. Both tribes had a cultural center, casino and various other forms of tourism. More important, he was Western Apache, where her rez was a mix of Apache tribes.
* * *
SHE MET HIS gaze now, looking into those dark eyes. He wore his hair in a single braid, a traditional style for a man roughly her age.
“I am honored to meet you, Lea,” he said and offered his hand.
She took it and he helped her scramble out from beneath the truck. When she was standing in front of him, she realized he was a good deal taller than she expected and far better looking. He had that rare combination of earnestness and intensity in his gaze that held her captive. His features were classic with a broad nose, full mouth and a jaw that looked strong enough to take a hit. Her stomach fluttered as she realized what was happening between them. The heat and absolute stillness seemed to charge the air, like the electricity before a storm. Their clasped hands tightened as they each stepped closer. Oh, this was bad.
She stepped back, breaking the connection between them and wiping her tingling palm upon the denim of her jeans. This was not the time or place for mooning over a man. She rubbed the hand that so recently clasped his across the back of her neck. It didn’t ease her discomfort. Was it because he stood a little too close?
The jitters came back and she felt as if someone were running an electric current through her. She leaned heavily against her truck but the heat of the metal made her spring away, straight into his arms. He enfolded her against him and she realized to her chagrin that she could no longer stand without his help because her knees had given way. He opened the passenger’s-side door and eased her onto the seat.
She glanced at the carnage all around her and pressed both hands over her eyes. When she removed them, the bodies were still there.
“Someone was shooting at me,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said. “That was me.”
Kino paused, pistol holstered, rifle slung over his shoulder and body armor sticking to his back as he considered what to do with this woman. He should take her in, but that would mean paperwork and he hated paperwork.
The woman stared at Kino as a mixture of shock and fear played across her features. She was smaller than he’d first judged, smaller than most of the women on his rez. And now, as he looked at her face, he saw that even pale and dusty as she was from her ordeal that her features seemed a blending of Native blood with some other race. Even dirty, there was no denying that she was a beauty.
Lea Altaha seemed to be recovering because color was now rapidly returning to her face. Her eyes glittered dangerously. Kino’s body reacted to the challenge in her gaze, though not as he expected. His emotions flicked from anger at her interference to complete awareness of her as a woman. Now, with her color high, her nostrils flaring and her brow sloping down over her large dark eyes, she looked fierce and wild and sexy as hell. The tight T-shirt publicized an aid organization—Oasis—but also served to advertise a killer body. The thin cotton and her tight faded jeans hugged her dangerous curves. She wore high boots, as anyone with sense would out here. She also had a water bottle and a folded utility knife strapped to her tooled leather belt. The buckle was large and silver with a thundercloud symbol on the front. Appropriate, he thought, for clearly there was some kind of storm building between them.
She lifted her hand to point a finger at him as if his words had just registered in her mind.
“You!” She slid from the seat, her voice and posture all accusation as she stood, chin high and brow low. Even angry she was adorable, he thought, like a startled kitten. “You could have killed me.”
“I could have. But I was aiming at your windshield.” He pointed at the space where the glass had been. “Your rearview and then your side mirror.”
And he had hit them all in that order. It was a point of pride, his accuracy with a rifle.
“What is wrong with you?”
“That man was gonna shoot you. Yeah? Like he killed them.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “I stopped him.”
He judged from her widening eyes that she knew what was behind him.
Her shoulders slumped and the color washed from her face. She started shaking again and leaned back against the seat behind her.
“He was,” she whispered. “And you were trying to shoot him?”
Kino’s jaw bulged. He took a moment to push down the fury. His chance, come and gone. Would he ever have that chance again?
“I was. Until you blundered into my shot.” He pointed to the ridge of rock some hundred yards back and twenty feet higher in elevation.
She looked at the place he indicated and then at the windshield. Finally she looked at him. Her mouth opened and then closed as she worked it out.
“I blocked your shot.”
He nodded.
She was covering her eyes with her hands again. The silver-and-turquoise jewelry on her right wrist and fingers shone bright in the sun. There was no jewelry on her left hand.
Why was he even checking?
He knew exactly why. He was attracted but he had a policy of never hunting in another man’s territory. But she was too attractive for him not to notice. Still, he didn’t know if he would ever forgive her for bumbling into his hunt. Likely that didn’t mean he wouldn’t sleep with her if she gave him the chance. He’d have to be dead not to want her. She was stunning, really. The tingle of desire prickled through him. He sighed and forced his thoughts back to the hunt, the important hunt, the one for the Viper.
“Did you get a good look at him?”
She nodded, pressing her hand over her mouth as if trying not to be sick. She gagged but held down whatever was threatening to come up.
“Close your eyes. Think about that face.”
She shook her head as if unwilling to remember.
“It’s important.”
“Because he killed these men?”
Kino waved a hand in the direction of the corpses. “These men are smugglers.”
She cocked her head as if she did not believe his words or understand them. “These men are people, with families.”
He gritted his teeth. “Right. Fine. But the shooter. Please, try to picture him.”
“I