Montana Wildfire by Rebecca Sinclair

Author:Rebecca Sinclair [Sinclair, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-06-08T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Amanda had assumed the couple living in the cabin were settlers from back East, people she would be comfortable staying with. Wasn’t that what she’d been led to believe? Either she’d severely misunderstood things, or she’d again misjudged the ever-perplexing Jacob Blackhawk Chandler.

The man who opened the door to Amanda’s insistent rapping was not the eager homesteader she expected. Oh, no. This man was a full-blooded Indian. Unlike Jake, he dressed the part.

Amanda had been studying the scuffed toes of her ankle boots. Her gaze shifted to the man’s feet. She scanned the red-and-white beaded moccasins he wore, then traced upward over his thigh-high leggings. The weather-softened deerskin left no doubt as to the heavily muscled legs beneath. His britches were made out of the same material, and they were snug. An unadorned, tuniclike shirt, also deerskin, hung from his shoulders. While the garment was loose fitting, the slackness couldn’t conceal the solid bands of muscle in his chest and biceps.

Like Jake’s, this man’s hair was long and straight and pitch-black. Unlike Jake’s, his was gathered into two neat plaits that ribboned down over each broad shoulder.

His face was comprised of hard copper planes and angles. The high-bridged nose and wide brow Amanda recognized from Jake. The rest of his features were foreign to her. Weathered creases bracketed his thin mouth and suspicious brown eyes. The creases didn’t look like they’d been put there from years of smiling.

Amanda took an instinctive step back, her gaze lifting those final few inches. She swallowed hard, and her hand fluttered at her throat when her attention was captured by a pair of eyes as cold and as shiny as shards of polished ebony.

“Jake Chandler sent me,” she said, and it was a fight to make her voice sound calm and rational—not high and panicky, the way she felt.

The man’s gaze narrowed. He assessed her in one cold, sweeping glance, then his attention snapped over her shoulders. He looked marginally relieved to see that she was alone.

Amanda forced a smile when his gaze returned to hers. He didn’t return the gesture, but stepped aside, opened the door wider, and waved her in. One inky brow slanted high when she shook the snow off her cloak and head and then immediately complied.

Mustering up her courage and filing away what she was sure was—she hoped—an irrational fear born of surprise, Amanda stepped over the threshold. She told herself that Jake wouldn’t have suggested she stay with these people if he didn’t think they were safe. No, of course he wouldn’t.

I can’t help it if you don’t trust me, he’d said. Well, she was trying to trust him, while at the same time proving to them both that she was not a shallow white princess. But... well, this was simply too much! The least Jake could have done was to warn her!

Perhaps this was Jake’s way of testing her? Did he want to see how the prissy society lady would react to spending a few days

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