see you again. Over the years, I almost convinced myself that you were a dream.”
“I’m not a dream. What we had was real.”
He held her gaze, though it cost him. Everything about Emily was made to tempt a man. Dark brown hair spilled over her shoulders, and those soft hazel eyes spoke of gentleness—a quality sadly lacking in his life. But there was more to her than the sum of her parts. The stubborn set of her chin spoke of pride and an independent spirit. And that was the woman he remembered—the one who’d haunted his dreams.
“When the snowstorm ended and you took me back to the lodge, everyone was so excited I’d turned up alive they just closed in around me. I tried to push people back so I could find you again, but you were gone. And I didn’t even know your full name. I described you to everyone there, but no one remembered seeing you.”
He nodded. Disappearing into the shadows was his specialty. It was a skill he’d learned in the Rangers and had perfected after becoming a member of the Brotherhood of Warriors.
“Once I had a chance to think things through, I understood why you didn’t stick around,” she continued. “Navajos aren’t supposed to show pride, and you didn’t seem the kind of man who’d be comfortable getting a million thank-yous. But you never got in touch afterward, not even to say a quick hello.”
He heard the trace of disappointment in her voice and, as he met her eyes, felt the tug on his senses. He could still remember every detail of their first meeting—the tiny nylon tent, a woman close to death, one sleeping bag and the heat that brought life.
Yet looking at Emily now, he saw more than the lost girl he’d rescued back then. There was maturity and new strength in her. Clearly, she could handle herself. He’d seen it in the way she’d fought those men, though she’d been armed only with a stick and a flashlight. That had taken guts. To win the fight ahead, all Emily needed was an edge—and that’s exactly why he was here.
Seeing the long, thoughtful look she was giving him, he sat back and waited for her to speak.
“After all this time, here you are again, out of nowhere, and right when I need you,” she said. She pressed her palm to his heart, and felt it beat against her palm. “You’re real.”
He placed his hand over hers. “I’m flesh and blood just like you.” He heard the small catch in her breath and gave her a thoroughly masculine grin.
She took a step back. “How…why?” she stammered, confused.
“I was sent by the tribe to help you out, and make sure you stay safe. Your father was our friend, and we take care of our own.”
“You’re a tribal police officer?”
“No, not exactly. But even if I were, this would be out of my jurisdiction. Right now what you need to do is report this incident to the sheriff’s department. When you do, give them my Anglo name—Jonas Slowman.”
This was the first time she’d heard his full name. He watched her whisper it as if getting a feel for it, and savoring the knowledge. Navajos didn’t readily give out their names, which were said to have power an enemy could use against a person. But on her lips, Jonas’s name became a caress, a promise.
“I’ll be back in a minute. My phone is on the…bed.”
As Emily walked down the short passage to pick up the cell phone, he watched her hips sway gently. His body tightened as memories of the past collided with their inescapable present.
Cursing himself, he looked away. The past was gone. This was now and he had a job to do.
EMILY ENDED THE CALL a few minutes later, then returned to sit across the table from him. “They know you at the sheriff’s office,” she said.
“Some do, some don’t. Who did you speak to?”
“A sergeant named Charlie Nez.”
Jonas nodded. “He’s Navajo. We went to Shiprock High together…back in the stagecoach and wagon train days.”
She laughed. He was trying to get her to relax and it was working. “They said they’d send out a deputy later to take our statements—long distances, and not so many officers, I guess.”
Emily sipped her coffee. Her pulse had slowed to a normal rate, and now that she could think clearly, she knew there was more to Jonas’s visit than he’d told her. He hadn’t just shown up—he’d been watching her property. But for how long?
Minutes of silence stretched out between them as questions circled in her mind. Tired of waiting for him to fill in the gaps, she decided to probe for answers. “My father had many clients, and he never discussed their business with me, but I get the impression that the work he did for the tribe had many layers.”
She allowed what she hadn’t said to linger between them. Working as an innkeeper at a mountain resort east of Albuquerque had taught her that people often talked to hear the sound of their own voices, or to make sure their opinions still mattered. All you had to do was be willing to wait, and listen.
Yet rules didn’t seem to apply to Jonas Slowman. When her patience finally stretched to the limit, she continued. “Was it me you were watching, or the men who attacked me? Just exactly what kind of work do you do for the tribe?”
Jonas leaned back in his seat and regarded her for a moment. “I’m what’s best described as a vindicator—one who defends a cause—at least that’s the English equivalent. My work enables the tribe to continue to walk in beauty.”
“How does that connect to my dad?”
“Your father handled some delicate matters for our tribe. The circumstances surrounding his death have raised some questions for us, and I was sent to provide any help you might need.”
She sat up abruptly. “Are you telling me that the tribe doesn’t think that what happened to Dad was just an accident?”
Jonas remained quiet for several long moments. “We have no proof to the contrary, but questions remain. For example, your father was the last person to see one of our people—a man who’s now missing. We believe he may have been in your dad’s car when it crashed.”
“You mean, somebody wandered off badly hurt and is out there somewhere?”
“A search was conducted the day and night following the accident, and is still going on, but there’s been no sign of him. He may have caught a ride along the highway—or not. So far, we have nothing to go on.”
“Who’s the missing man? Anyone I know?”
“The tribe has its own reasons for wanting to keep his identity a secret for now.”
“But the tribe thinks his disappearance might somehow be connected to what happened to Dad?”
“The timing and other factors fit,” Jonas said with a nod. “If we’re right, and your father’s death wasn’t an accident, you can use someone like me around. I’m here to offer my services.”
His unwavering gaze nearly tore her breath away, but she kept her wits about her. “I obviously need some form of security, but I can’t afford it right now. My funds are tied into the new construction. Dad and I were getting ready to build a vacation inn for people with special needs. But some of the funds we were expecting haven’t come in yet, so I’m living on a very tight budget.”
“No payment’s necessary. I’ve got you covered,” he said.
Seeing herself reflected in those intense dark eyes brought back a kaleidoscope of emotions that left her feeling weak at the knees. Sharing his sleeping bag…and what had happened next…had kept her from dying of hypothermia. But maybe what they’d shared hadn’t meant the same to him. For all she knew, he saw it as nothing more than an unusual one-nighter.
The fact was she didn’t know, and maybe it was better that way. She needed to take him at face value now