The Sheriff's 6-year-old Secret
Donna Clayton
Nothing could make Native American Nathan Thunder give up being a New York City police officer…except a little girl–all alone in the world–who needed a father. Returning to his Kolheek reservation to take on the safer job of sheriff, he didn't expect his heart would be in danger to teacher Gwen Fleming!Nathan's six-year-old daughter, Charity, was a handful. Gwen found herself getting to know Nathan quite well during some pretty intense parent-teacher conferences, which soon started occurring after hours. Despite being wary of relationships, Gwen couldn't deny how her soul soared when Nathan was near. Was the attraction between the flame-haired beauty and the lawman destined to turn into love?
“I feel like a teenager who’s about to be caught necking,”
Nathan whispered, chuckling softly as he helped Gwen straighten her blouse.
Gwen just smiled. He actually looked discomfited, and she thought that was too alluring for words.
At that moment she felt something happen inside her. A funny, heated hitch in her heart. Gwen had never been in love before. She’d never experienced the feeling of falling for a man. Of feeling as if she wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the night with him…or maybe even the rest of her life with him. But if she had to hazard a guess…she’d have to say that the emotion humming through her was just that.
Love.
The Sheriff’s 6-Year-Old Secret
Donna Clayton
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To the Delaware Moms
Thank you for your friendship and support
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
* (#litres_trial_promo)Miss Maxwell Becomes a Mom #1211
* (#litres_trial_promo)Nanny in the Nick of Time #1217
* (#litres_trial_promo)Beauty and the Bachelor Dad #1223
† (#litres_trial_promo)The Stand-By Significant Other #1284
† (#litres_trial_promo)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
** (#litres_trial_promo)The Nanny Proposal #1477
** (#litres_trial_promo)The Doctor’s Medicine Woman #1483
** (#litres_trial_promo)Rachel and the M.D. #1489
Who Will Father My Baby? #1507
In Pursuit of a Princess #1582
†† (#litres_trial_promo)The Sheriff’s 6-Year-Old Secret #1623
Silhouette Books
The Coltons
Close Proximity
DONNA CLAYTON
is the recipient of the Diamond Author Award for Literary Achievement 2000, as well as two Holt Medallions. She became a writer through her love of reading. As a child, she marveled at her ability to travel the world, experience swashbuckling adventures and meet amazingly bold and daring people without ever leaving the shade of the huge oak in her very own backyard. She takes great pride in knowing that, through her work, she provides her readers the chance to indulge in some purely selfish romantic entertainment.
One of her favorite pastimes is traveling. Her other interests include walking, reading, visiting with friends, teaching Sunday school, cooking and baking, and she still collects cookbooks, too. In fact, her house is overrun with them.
Please write to Donna care of Silhouette Books. She’d love to hear from you!
Contents
Chapter One (#u6fd6498f-f4b9-588c-bcf1-20c958e17ab6)
Chapter Two (#u154756b5-2ab6-5809-9837-2c48277365ba)
Chapter Three (#u356d3244-a205-54ed-8e68-e35444bc60d2)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
The last thing Nathan Thunder needed was more trouble.
“Looks like more trouble is just what you’re in for, though.” His murmur held a distinct quality of resigned despair as he dropped the phone receiver into its cradle. He scrubbed at the back of his neck and then let his fingers worry back and forth across his jaw.
Having just stepped into the job of sheriff of Smoke Valley Reservation a few short weeks ago, he was doing all he could to unite his small staff into a team. He’d returned to the reservation after a long absence and now needed to spend loads of time allowing the residents to get to know him again. A law officer who didn’t have the respect and trust of the community couldn’t carry out his duties effectively.
Not that Nathan was an outsider, by any means. Yes, he’d left Smoke Valley more than ten years ago to attend the New York City Police Academy. He’d joined the NYPD and was proud of his distinguished career. But he’d been back to visit his friends and family on the rez many times. And he was back for good now. If truth be known, he was happy about the move, as well as relieved; this job seemed to have put his haunting fear to rest.
Oh, he was confident he could do a good job as sheriff—he’d unify his officers and garner the community’s trust. He was certain of it. He only wished that confidence extended itself to his personal life. Now that was where the real trouble lay: in his personal life. Namely, his daughter, Charity.
His daughter. He still couldn’t get over the astounding turn of events that had brought this child into his life just five short weeks ago.
When Nathan thought of little girls, he imagined sugar and spice and everything nice. Sweet smiles. Frilly dresses. Ballet lessons. Butterfly kisses. Now the Great Spirit above knew Nathan had no understanding whatsoever of children, but six-year-old Charity seemed to break every single label ever slapped on the female of the species. She had a rough-and-tumble attitude, an aversion to any clothing with even a hint of a ruffle and a speak-your-mind tongue that often had him at a loss for words.
Her wildness needed taming. And the short phone conversation he’d just had with the principal of the local elementary school only cemented the notion into his brain. It seemed his bruiser of a daughter had socked a fellow student during recess. On her first day in the first-grade class, no less.
He whistled, shaking his head. “What a way to make a first impression.”
After alerting the dispatcher of his plans, Nathan got into his car and drove the short distance to the school. He parked, cut the ignition and walked up the sidewalk. The closer he got to the doors, the more his feeling of doom increased. The heels of his shoes echoed in the wide, empty corridor as he searched for the first-grade classroom. Butterflies began to dance a jig in his stomach. Then suddenly he nearly chuckled out loud at himself. It was quite comical that he could calmly face down a fugitive with a deadly weapon, yet the idea of meeting with Charity’s teacher had him feeling tense and jittery.
The woman was turned away from him when he entered the classroom, but one look at the mass of flaming curls tumbling down her back, one glimpse of the lissome, curvy figure told him he’d already met Charity’s teacher.
In the line of duty.
Just as Gwen set the chalkboard eraser on the metal ledge, her skin tingled with the ingrained awareness that alerted her to someone’s presence behind her. She took a deep, steeling breath. The principal had set up this parent-teacher meeting for her. Not having spoken to Charity’s father herself, Gwen had no idea if the man would be rational and unruffled…or if she’d be facing a Brahma bull. As a teacher, she’d learned to expect the unexpected when it came to dealing with parents. All she’d been told was that he was coming.
Fixing a reassuring smile on her mouth, she turned. However, the sight of the police officer standing at the threshold of her classroom made her stomach turn queasy.
While growing up, she’d had quite a few experiences where the police showed up at her house. Each and every encounter had been frightening.
Her countenance fell and she had trouble drawing a breath.
His shoulders massive, the man seemed to fill the doorway. His face, with its classic Native American features, was handsome beyond belief and caused heat to curl inside her, but at the same time the implications of that olive-and-gray uniform, of that shiny metal badge on his chest, made her go cold all over. Like steam and ice—it was the oddest sensation she’d ever experienced.
The scariest thing about this moment, she realized, was that she recognized this man as the law officer who had lectured her brother soundly for shoplifting a candy bar just last week. It was strange that she’d been bombarded with the same hot-cold feeling then as she was now.
Thank heavens she’d been there in the store when the incident had occurred. She’d been in such a rush to pay for the candy her brother had slipped into his pocket that she’d spilled the entire contents of her purse on the wide wooden countertop. Keys, change, pictures, a tube of lipstick had all gone astray, bouncing and tumbling out of reach.
The fact that Brian had done such a thing had been bad enough. But when the policeman arrived, she’d gone all shaky inside. She’d never been so embarrassed in her life. She’d been truly grateful that the store owner hadn’t pressed charges. And she’d been just as thankful that the officer had taken Brian aside and given him a good talking-to about the trouble he could get into by taking things that didn’t belong to him.
If the officer was showing up at her place of work, Brian must have done something horrendous. Her knees went wobbly as warm rubber.
“What’s he done now?” Trepidation made her voice raspy, and she barely made it to her chair in one piece. It felt as if all her joints had turned to rusty hinges from which the pins had been pulled. She was so glad the chair was already pulled out as she sank into it. “It must be bad if you’re coming to find me at school.”
Last week she’d been startled by how handsome the Kolheek officer was. His eyes were a deep, rich brown, his hair as black and shiny as a crow’s wing glinting in the sunshine. Parted in the middle, his hair feathered back away from his face, long enough that only the lobes of his ears were visible. His high, sharp cheekbones gave him a noble air. The sharp angle of his jaw had become even sharper, had taken on an extreme seriousness, and his dark eyes had intensified with a stern and steady stare as he’d chastised her brother outside the store.
Now, she saw, his face was just as gorgeous, his hair just as silky, but his mahogany gaze was soft with compassion.
“Hold on a second.”
His tone had gone just as gentle as his expression and he lifted his hand, palm outward, to her.
“I’m not here on business.”
Then his brow puckered and he became obviously flustered.
“Well…I am here on business but…what I mean is…”
Mild frustration made his expression rather comical, and if Gwen hadn’t been so upset by the sight of him, intimidated by his presence and that uniform, she’d have smiled. But the present situation with her brother was too overwhelming for her to see any humor in having a police officer show up at her place of employment.
She was so scared for her brother that she found herself unable to speak.
“I’m not here on police business,” he rushed to add.
Gwen felt her lips form a silent “Oh,” and she nodded. She let out her breath, not realizing before this moment that she’d been holding it.
“So if you’re not here about Brian, Officer—” her voice was still raspy “—I’m afraid I’m confused. What can I do for you?” Glancing at her wristwatch, she said, “I don’t have much time to give you right now. You see, I’m expecting a parent—”
“I’m the expectant parent.”
He shook his head when he realized what he’d said. Tipping up his chin, he tried again, “I’m the expecting parent.” The sigh he heaved was filled to the brim with aggravation. “I’m the parent you’re expecting.”
The relief that flooded through her was dizzying. She wanted to let out a sigh, so happy was she to discover that he wasn’t there about Brian. However, in the same instant, she was acutely cognizant of how flustered he was. It seemed as though he was as thrown off by their sudden reacquaintance as she.
He chuckled, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “I’m not a complete and utter idiot, I assure you. And I do have a full working knowledge of the English language. I’m just a little nervous about…” He let the rest of his sentence fade.
She realized then that it wasn’t seeing her again that had him in such a tizzy, it was the occasion. This was probably his first parent-teacher meeting.
“You’re Charity Thunder’s father.” It was more a statement than a question, but she wanted him to know she finally was clear about who he was and what he was doing here.
Now that the situation had become a little less tangled, she felt it was her obligation to gather her wits about her and put on a professional face. However, the blatant fact that he was the cop who had chewed out her brother for breaking the law was enough to instill a hefty amount of awkwardness in her.
“Yes.” He seemed relieved to have his identity straightened out. “And I want you to know right off I don’t condone hitting. I apologize for Charity’s behavior.” He looked around the classroom. “Where is she, by the way? I thought she’d be here. I’m more than happy to show her that you and I are a united front against this kind of behavior.”
Gwen felt herself relax. She was pleased to realize this was one parent she wasn’t going to have to argue with about a student’s conduct. So often parents were unwilling to recognize or admit when their children were in the wrong.
“Charity’s with Principal Halley,” she told him. “I thought, since we didn’t get a chance to meet before school started, that today would be a good time for us to sit and chat.”
He nodded. “Well, just so you know, my daughter’s going to get an earful from me on the subject of hitting her fellow students.”
“Oh, now,” she said softly, “I think Charity realizes that she made a mistake.”
Sunlight streamed through the window, glinting off his badge. She thought it ironic that just last week this man had had to reprimand her brother and today she’d corrected his daughter. The idea made her a little uncomfortable, as if she and this stranger had too much of a hand in each other’s personal lives.
But that’s silly, she thought. After all, they were only doing their jobs.
However, something akin to intuition—no, something more astute than mere intuition, something souldeep—told her this meeting, this man, would mean something significant to her.
Oh, come on now, girl, she silently chastised. You’ve been spending too much time reading about Kolheek mysticism.
After a couple of seconds that seemed positively charged with the uneasiness that pulsed through her, she motioned to him with a wave of her hand. “Come on in and have a seat. Let’s talk.”
The only chairs available, other than her own, were built especially for pint-size, six-year-old bodies. He straddled one of the small seats and attempted to lower himself into it. He was a big man, and the honed bulk of him made the chair seem even smaller than it already was.
“I’m sorry about the seating,” she said, automatically rising and coming around her desk. “But this is all I have to offer.”
“It’s fine.”
But it was obvious to her that, with his knees bent up around his shoulders, he was surely in a most uncomfortable position. The situation was not fine and he was too polite to say so.
“How about if we just sit on the desks?” she offered.
His handsome face took on a look of incredible gratitude at the suggestion. She slid onto the top of the wooden desk that was closest to her. The officer—she still couldn’t get over how unsettled she was by that uniform—straightened his contorted posture and sat down on a neighboring desktop.
“Better?” she asked.
“Much.”
She forced herself to smile. “Good. Now that I know who you are, let me introduce myself.” She reached her hand out to him, and when he took it, the heat of him shocked her, short-circuited her thoughts, and for a second she couldn’t remember her own name.
“Gwen.” The word finally burst from her tongue. “Gwen Fleming.” She pumped his hand, drawing in a huge gulp of air, hoping to calm the astonishing riot going on inside her. “I’m Charity’s teacher.”
“And I’m her father, Nathan Thunder,” he provided.
He pressed his free hand against the back of hers, enveloping her in a blanket of feverish warmth.
“It’s good to meet you.” His mouth widened with sincerity.
Gwen felt hot. Cold. Panicked. If she didn’t sever contact with him soon, perspiration would surely break out across her brow. What in heaven’s name had gotten into her?
He released her hand, leaned back a bit and hitched his left ankle over his right knee. His fingers curled nonchalantly around his shin and Gwen couldn’t help but notice the tapered length of them. She wondered how they’d feel caressing her cheek.
She stifled her gasping reaction to the totally shocking thought. Her eyes widened. Something was really wrong here. A notion as strange as that one shouldn’t be in her head. This man was the parent of one of her students.
“I know that Charity missed—”
Her gaze seemed to take on a life all its own as it settled on his lips. She became mesmerized by the way his sexy mouth formed words.
“—the first few days of school—”
The bow centering his top lip with its two perfect points was so…attractive. How would it feel to gently drag her tongue across its surface? What would his mouth taste like against her own?
“—what with the testing Principal Halley insisted on.”
Gwen blinked. Dragging her tongue across his lip? Tasting his mouth? Had she totally lost her mind? Then other questions rolled through her head. Missed days? Testing? Oh, Lord. What in the world had he been talking about?
“I do understand the need for the tests, though,” Nathan Thunder continued.
The man obviously hadn’t realized that Gwen’s sexual fantasies had made her temporarily check out of their conversation, and for that she was mightily grateful.
“As the principal explained,” he said, “since Charity didn’t attend kindergarten last year, it was necessary to see where she is, knowledge-wise, compared to the other students.”
He smiled again, and even though she knew perfectly well autumn had arrived, Gwen felt as if she’d been struck full in the face with the heat of the midsummer sun. She pressed her lips together and did her best to focus on the topic at hand.
Charity’s father continued, “I will admit that I’m happy she was placed with her peers, rather than put back with the five-year-olds.”
Gwen scrambled around in her thought processes until she was up to speed in this conversation. “W-well, Mr. Thunder, the tests showed your daughter met all the first-grade requirements,” she said.
“Nathan,” he said. “Please call me Nathan.”
Her smile was automatic. But her insides were nothing but chaos. “Only if you’ll call me Gwen.”
A look passed across his mahogany gaze, an unreadable expression that caused her spine to prickle with a needle-sharp sensation that had her feeling the need to arch her back like a cat. Her reaction to this man was terribly unprofessional. She’d better be careful.
“Even without the kindergarten experience—” she forced herself to ignore her physical reaction to him, to remain attentive to the discussion at hand “—Charity is on par with the average students in the class.”
His head bobbed slowly up and down. “I brought all this up because I’m wondering if the days she missed might have contributed to this, um…hitting incident. It seems to me that children form bonds very quickly. And with Charity not being here with the others for the first days of classes…”
“You’re right. Kids do connect almost instantly. They develop friendships, fashion allegiances, form hierarchies, no matter how hard we try to dissuade such behavior. However, they’re also very fickle creatures, switching alliances frequently.” Her mouth pulled wide with a grin. “I want you to know that—other than the recess incident—she did very well today at getting along with her classmates.”
“Well, is the little boy okay?” he asked. “The one she fought with?”
“He’s fine. I spoke with his mother when she picked him up from school just a bit ago. I explained everything.”
He looked so miserable that his daughter might have hurt a fellow student that Gwen’s heart went out to him. She felt it would help him immensely if she let him in on a big secret. “Truly, Mr. Thunder—”
“Nathan,” he reminded her.
“Nathan,” she repeated, “I have a sneaking suspicion that something good just might come out of all this.”
Apparent bewilderment made him frown. She glanced toward the door to make sure no one could overhear what she was about to reveal.
“You see, even after only a few days of school, Billy Whitefeather has shown a…well, a propensity toward bullying the other children. By defending herself, Charity has shown the rest of the class that they don’t have to be fearful of him.”
This information seemed to help smooth his brow a bit, and again, Gwen was acutely aware of how handsome the man was.
“But I did have to stress with Charity that hitting won’t be tolerated,” she went on, forcing herself to ignore the pleasant warmth the man caused to radiate throughout her entire body. “With what’s happening all over this country…there’s so much violence in our schools these days…and kids aren’t feeling safe…well, we’ve adopted a no-tolerance policy. And even though ninety-nine point nine percent of aggression won’t lead to anything more than name-calling and an occasional shove, we still have to take action. We still have to let the children know that violent behavior—in any form—is wrong. Charity seems to understand that.”
“Of course,” he told her. “And I agree wholeheartedly. You can rest assured that I’ll reiterate that with her on the way home.”
“And I want you to know,” Gwen continued, “I had a long discussion with Billy. I tried to make him understand that his actions and his words only aggravated the problem.”
Instigated them, really, she wanted to say. But she didn’t. As a teacher and responsible adult, she had to represent every single one of her students in the fairest way possible.
“Well, if I know Charity—” Nathan’s expression turned sheepish, and Gwen thought it terribly charming “—she probably gave Billy a few choice words of her own.” Amazement made his brows raise a fraction and he shook his head. “In the few weeks since this child entered my life, she’s proved to have a sharp tongue.”
“She does speak her mind, doesn’t she?” Gwen chuckled and suddenly remembered an encounter she’d had with the child. “In fact, she asked me first thing this morning if I forgot to brush my hair.”
His eyes went round with dismay and his mouth dropped open. He blurted, “Y-your hair is beautiful.”
Gwen knew he was only trying to make up for his daughter’s infraction, but the compliment had her blushing with pure pleasure even so.
Reaching out, she touched his sleeve reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t insulted. My students often comment about my unruly hair. I just explain that it’s hard to keep curls like mine under control.”
Suddenly she felt the need to reverse gears a step or two.
“If you don’t mind my asking—” absently she laced her fingers together and placed them in her lap “—what did you mean just now when you said in the few weeks since Charity entered your life?”
One of his muscular shoulders lifted in a shrug. “At the beginning of last month…I wasn’t even aware of Charity’s existence. You see, Charity’s mother and I dated for a while. A very short while. We broke up years ago and I never heard from the woman again. Until she had me contacted last month.”
“Had you contacted?” Gwen couldn’t hide her confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“She couldn’t call herself. Ellen was ill. Extremely ill.” His jaw tensed. “She was dying, actually. And she needed me to take Charity.”
“Oh, my,” Gwen breathed. “You must have been…surprised to learn you’re a father. Incredulous, really. Saddened by the woman’s illness, of course.” It was an amazing story. She couldn’t imagine all that he must have experienced while learning what was sure to have been life-altering news.
He heaved a sigh. “I felt all those things and more. I was forced to deal with some big changes in my life. Ellen’s illness. Her funeral. And at the same time I was attempting to cultivate some kind of relationship with this little girl. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to explain to a child that her mother is going away? Forever? I’m still not sure Charity understands.”
Her heart pinching with compassion, Gwen couldn’t help but remember when her own mother died and she’d been the one who had had to explain things to her brother, so she really did understand.
“It must have been awful,” she murmured. “For both of you, I’m sure.”
“I wanted to get Charity out of the city—”
He blinked and his tongue smoothed across his dusky lips. A strange tingling sensation rushed across every inch of Gwen’s skin. She stifled the shiver that threatened to rock through her.
“—so I brought her here to Smoke Valley.”
The way his dark gaze slid from hers, she couldn’t help but think there was much more to his reasons for leaving New York City than he was willing to reveal to her, a total stranger.
“I was quitting one job, finding another. Packing up my apartment, cleaning out Ellen’s. Searching for a place here on the rez for me and Charity to live. Dealing with problems at the new job. You’d be amazed how hard it is for people to get used to a new boss.” He shook his head. “Poor Charity must feel as if she’s been tossed into a barrel with someone she’s only known a short while and sent rolling and crashing down a rocky mountainside.”
Gwen could easily imagine the feeling. Amazingly, that description matched what she was experiencing simply sitting here talking with the man.
“I didn’t know that all this was going on in Charity’s life,” she said. “I’m glad you told me. I’ll be extra patient with her. And I’ll look for any overt signs of stress in her behavior.”
His chin snapped up. “You think that’s why she fought with that little boy today? Because she’s stressed because of all the changes taking place in her life?”
Gwen shook her head emphatically. “No, I don’t think that at all. I’m certain she was simply reacting to some mean-spirited comments made by one of her classmates, that’s all. I would tell you if I thought there was more to it, honestly I would. Charity was just standing up for herself. And as I’ve already told you, I think she showed the class today that Billy’s bullying doesn’t have to be tolerated. The children have other outlets. They have me. They can come to me. And I’ve told them so.”
After a moment he gave his head a slow, grim shake. “I guess you can tell I don’t have a clue about raising a daughter. I have no experience at this at all. I’m a single guy whose only responsibility up until a few weeks ago was showing up for work every day and paying my rent on time.”
“Oh, now,” she crooned softly. His self-doubt stirred her empathy something fierce. “Give yourself more credit than that.”
She felt such an overwhelming urge to encourage and support this man. Gwen tried to imagine what it would be like to wake up one morning and discover that not only do you have a daughter but that you’re now going to be her sole guardian. The idea was mind-boggling. The poor guy must have reeled when he found out about Charity. Heck, from the sound it, he was still reeling.
“All you need to do is love her,” Gwen told him. “That’s the number-one key to raising a healthy child. Unconditional love.” Then she smiled. “That, and firm discipline.”
He seemed surprised by this last suggestion.
The silent questions in his dark gaze had her elaborating, “I’ve only been working with youngsters for a few years, but the one thing I’ve learned is that kids love to shove at the boundaries that have been set for them.” Her eyes twinkled with the merriment she felt. “As adults, it’s our job to shove them right back. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”
He laughed, and Gwen was amazed by how much she liked the rich sound. She’d have loved to press her palm to his chest and feel the vibration of it.
The idea made her eyes widen a fraction. It was clear to her that, despite the disquieting, memory-stirring uniform he wore, Nathan Thunder was having the most startling effect on her.
“Love and discipline. I’ll try to remember that.”
She squeezed his forearm. “You’ll do just fine. You’ll see.”
His gorgeous eyes clouded with skepticism, but he made no further comment. Finally he said, “Thank you, Gwen, for being so reasonable about the mess Charity got herself into today.”
A soft chuckle escaped her throat. “When you choose to work with kids, your middle name had better be ‘reasonable’ or you aren’t going to survive for very long.” All this talk of being levelheaded with children triggered the memory of what had happened last week with her brother.
“I owe you a hefty dose of appreciation, as well,” she said, her tone growing serious. “You, too, were very reasonable last week with my brother. I thank you for taking the time to talk to him.”
“That was all part of my job. I’d much rather give a kid a good lecture meant to scare the bejesus out of him than see him get himself into some real trouble later in life.”
Gwen hoped that Brian’s run-in with the law would have him walking the straight and narrow path. But for some reason, she feared that wasn’t the case. There was simply too much secrecy about where he was and whom he spent his time with these days. Some of that, she was certain, was just part of being a teenager. But Brian was harboring a great deal of anger and resentment, and Gwen felt her brother had no intention of venting those negative feelings in positive ways.
“How is he?” Nathan asked. “Your brother—Brian’s his name, isn’t it?”
“Brian, yes.” Inadvertently she sighed. “He’s…okay.”
Obviously sensing her hesitance, he coaxed, “Is everything really all right at home? Are your parents very upset with Brian for what happened at the store?”
“N-no. Well…,” she stammered, “you see, it’s just me and Brian.”
It was clear that this revelation surprised him. He tried to temper his reaction, but this news caused questions to form in his head. Gwen could plainly see that. However, before he could speak, movement at the classroom doorway plucked at their attention.
“Dad.”
Gwen smiled and invited Charity into the room with a wave of her hand. The child looked so innocent with her mop of dark curls and her milky complexion. At first glance, no one would have guessed that this little girl was capable of knocking a fellow student on his behind. Gwen stifled the grin that threatened to break out across her face.
“Mrs. Halley told me to come down here. She had to leave to pick up her son at day care.”
Glancing at the clock, Gwen said, “I should let you go, too. I’m sure you have a busy evening planned. And I still have some things to do to get ready for class tomorrow, then I have to get home. I don’t like to leave Brian alone for too long.”
“Miss Fleming?”
“Yes, Charity?” Gwen directed her full attention to the child.
“Am I allowed to come to school tomorrow? I promise not to hit Billy again.” Then the girl shook her head, her face taking on a clear and unmistakable expression of long suffering. “No matter how much he might need it.”
The opinion was delivered without a trace of guile; however, Nathan went pale at his daughter’s unexpected aside. The best Gwen could do was bite back the laughter that nearly got the best of her.
“Of course you can come back to school,” she said. She bent down so that she was face-to-face with Charity. “And if Billy does or says something to upset you, you come see me, okay? Just like we talked about today.”
Charity nodded. “I will.”
Gwen straightened and, smiling, reached out her hand to Nathan. She hoped she could silently convey to the man that his daughter’s comment wasn’t anything out of the norm. She heard those kinds of outlandish judgments on a daily basis from her six-year-old students. However, now just wasn’t a good time to tell him, not with Charity within earshot.
“It was good to meet you, Nathan.”
“Same here,” he said.
His apologetic look seemed to soften, and she got the distinct impression that he’d somehow understood the silent message she’d attempted to send. His dark eyes softened. “Thanks for everything.”
Her smile broadened. “You’re very welcome.”
He and Charity turned to go, and the oddest sensation washed through Gwen’s body. As she watched father and daughter walk out of the classroom, she couldn’t get over the feeling that her life would never quite be the same.
Chapter Two
Her hand felt so small and vulnerable in his as the two of them walked across the school parking lot toward his car. Even after weeks of having this child in his life, he still felt overwhelmed at times by this circumstance he found himself in.
This new stage in his life—being a parent—certainly was taking some getting used to. Every single aspect of it. He was oblivious to the beautiful blue sky as memories bombarded him. Early on, he and Charity had had a long conversation regarding what she should call him, and it had been such a poignant moment Nathan knew he’d never forget it for as long as he lived.
“So what do I call you?” she’d asked matter-of-factly less then twenty-four hours after their first meeting.
Nathan had been taken aback by the blunt question. “Well, what would you like to call me?”
“I’ve had a Daddy-Chuck and a Daddy-Steve. I’ve had a Daddy-Toby and a Daddy-Tony.” Her face had scrunched up. “I used to get ’em mixed up and Mommy would get mad at me. But it was hard to remember, ya know?”
“I understand.” But he hadn’t really. What had Ellen been thinking, bringing so many men into Charity’s life? But then, he hadn’t really been with the woman long enough to get to know who Ellen was or what she wanted out of life. He had no idea what kind of childhood she’d had or what kind of baggage she’d carried from her past, so he really had no business judging her lifestyle.
“I don’t wanna call you Daddy-anything.”
“You don’t?” Nathan’s throat constricted at the sudden forlorn look that clouded his daughter’s eyes.
Finally she whispered, “Daddies don’t stay.”
“Oh, honey,” he’d crooned, soft and assuring, “I’m not going anywhere. I mean that. You’re going to be with me forever.”
Her little head had tilted to one side and she’d nonchalantly replied, “We’ll see.”
His eyes had burned with emotion. He’d been able to tell that she desperately wanted his promise to go unbroken, but her trust was obviously something she didn’t give away easily. Not after all she’d evidently been through in her young life. Only time would prove to her that Nathan meant what he said.
“You could call me just plain Nathan,” he suggested.
Her brow puckered. “Just Plain Nathan sounds kinda funny.”
“No.” He’d chuckled. “I mean, Nathan. You could call me Nathan.”
She made no comment at first, but he could tell her thoughts were churning. Then her chin had thrust out boldly, her eyes avoiding his, as she blurted, “But every kid needs a dad, don’tcha think? I could call you Dad, couldn’t I?”
His heart had swelled painfully. “Sure you could. That would be just fine.”
Yes, that had been one exchange that had given him great insight. Charity, even at such a young age, was striving to achieve some sort of normalcy for herself amidst the chaos of the world around her.
Now he helped her into the back seat, shut the door and then slid behind the wheel. He listened a moment as she struggled to latch her seat belt, quelling the urge to offer her help. He’d discovered she was an independent little thing, and if he offered to come to her aid too quickly, she’d become exasperated with him.
Casting a glance at her in the rearview mirror, he smiled. She was the image of her mother, with her head of tight, dark curls and her skin like porcelain. So small and innocent. However, today’s events had to be talked about, no matter how much he’d like to bypass the moment.
After he heard the latch click securely, he asked, “You want to tell me what happened today?”
Her gaze met his in the mirror. “I know I’m in trouble for hitting Billy Whitefeather. But he said Charity was a stupid name. He said I wasn’t Indian. And that I didn’t belong in this school.”
Nathan’s nod was nearly imperceptible. He had suspected Charity wouldn’t have lashed out without being provoked.
“So,” she continued in a rush, “I told him Whitefeather was the stupidest name in the whole, wide universe. And that my dad was sheriff. And that I could go to this school if I wanted to.”
So he’d been correct when he’d told Charity’s teacher that his daughter could give as good as she got. A smile threatened the firm line of his mouth, but he wrestled it into submission. Now wasn’t the time to laugh at his daughter’s antics. He needed to nip this behavior in the bud.
“He made a fist and I knew he was gonna hit me,” she explained. “I was scared, but I slugged him first. And ya know something?” Unadulterated wonder made her eyes go round. “He cried like a big, fat baby.”
Nathan knew it was wrong, but he’d be lying if he didn’t plainly identify the emotion flashing though him as nothing less than pride. Even though he was brand-new at this dad business, he guessed that no parent wanted their child to be a pushover. He was happy to discover that Charity could stand up for herself. But it was certain that they’d have to work on the means she used to do so.
“It’s not nice to hit people,” he told her.
“But Billy said—”
“I heard you the first time. But you need to know, Charity, you can’t go around hitting everyone who says something you don’t like.”
“But—”
“Honey—” his tone was firm “—there are no buts. Hitting is wrong.”
The look on her face told him she was crushed. All Nathan wanted to do was give her a big hug and assure her that everything was going to be okay. But he forced himself to remain silent. She needed to contemplate her behavior. To realize the magnitude of her actions.
Our job is to shove them right back. Gwen’s advice regarding setting firm boundaries floated through his mind.
Nathan’s fingers were trembling as he placed the key in the ignition and fired up the engine. He sighed. Being the disciplinarian was a necessary part of parenting, Charity’s teacher had just informed him, but it wasn’t a part of his new job as dad that he was going to enjoy very much.
The morning sun glowed through the windowpanes, rays of light glinting directly on the large jar of pennies that sat on the battered credenza. The jar was significant to Nathan. While working with the NYPD, he’d placed a penny in the jar every single day that he’d finished a shift and returned to the station house alive.
Lucky pennies. His jar of luck. It reminded him to be grateful for every day he was here on earth.
Several of his colleagues who had worked as cops in the city hadn’t been so lucky. All Nathan had to do was close his eyes to visualize the grief-stricken, tearstained faces of the wives and children of his fallen comrades. Those funerals he’d attended had been the reason he’d remained single all these years. Those sad occasions had also been the reason he’d brought Charity here to Smoke Valley Reservation. To a slower, safer way of life.
Now, however, one particularly new penny in the jar caught the sunlight, gleaming like coppery fire. Immediately Gwen Fleming’s glorious head of red hair came rushing into his mind with the force of a flash of lightning.
Wispy heat curled down low in his belly as a thundering bolt of pure desire rumbled through him. Nathan’s jaw tightened. It had been three days since he’d met his daughter’s teacher, and since then the woman had invaded his thoughts more times than he cared to admit. She was a looker, she was, with her head of wild ginger curls and a smile that could make a man give up his life’s fortune if she asked for it.
The woman was a tactile person, someone who was comfortable touching those within range. She’d reached out to him several times during their meeting, and each and every time Nathan had felt the air heat up, felt his heart thud like the hooves of a racehorse, his blood rushing through his veins.
He’d been surprised when she’d said she and her brother were alone. He’d wanted to ask her more about her situation. But Charity’s arrival had interrupted them.
Raising a teen was an awesome task. Nathan was impressed by Gwen’s dedication and her willingness to take responsibility for her brother. He couldn’t help but wonder how she’d come to find herself in such a situation. He’d have loved the chance to talk to Gwen about it further.
“Why don’t you just admit it?” he whispered to himself.
You’d have done just about anything to make that meeting last just a little longer. You lusted after that fiery-haired woman right there in that first-grade classroom, amid all the bright primary-colored shapes and alphabet letters hanging on the walls, and you’ve been lusting after her ever since.
He sighed, resting his elbow on his desk and his jaw in the V between his thumb and fingers, blind to the forms on his desk needing completion.
It really hadn’t mattered that he and Gwen had been in the most inopportune place, he realized. A classroom where children learned and played sure wasn’t the perfect location for him to experience such gut-wrenching desire. Nonetheless, that was exactly where he had experienced it.
Getting involved in his daughter’s teacher’s private life should have been the last thing on his mind. He had papers to file, forms to complete, a police station to run. A little girl to raise.
Still, the sunlight continued to gleam through the window, making that jar of copper pennies wink and smile…reminding him of one beautiful and extraordinary woman.
Gwen paced the close confines of her small living room, anxiety nibbling at her nerves like ravenous mice after a slice of fresh Swiss. Where was Brian?
She’d arrived home from school to an empty house. No note. No phone message. Nothing.
He was often absent when she got in from work. But he always left her a note. Well, almost always. And he never failed to return before dinner.
But tonight the meat loaf she’d cooked sat on the counter, stone cold. The mashed potatoes had congealed into a hard lump. And there was simply no hope for the limp green beans stuck to the bottom of the pan.
The sky had darkened long ago, and Gwen didn’t have any idea where her brother might be, or what trouble he might be getting himself into. Ever since that shoplifting incident, she’d been worried sick. She didn’t know the names of any of the boys he’d met since their move to Smoke Valley. Brian had been steadily uncommunicative about his friends. She didn’t have a clue whom to call or what to do. For all she knew, he could have been struck by a car while he was riding his bike and was lying unconscious in the emergency ward of the local hospital, in the neighboring town of Mountview. During that moment of panic, Gwen had called the dispatcher at the Smoke Valley police station. The woman had been so nice in her efforts to calm Gwen and had assured her that no accidents had been reported.
Still, the lesson plans Gwen had intended to organize for her students sat on the table, untouched. Worry had her too upset to think straight, too distressed to eat.
So she paced. Wrung her hands. And waited.
The knock on the front door nearly made her jump right out of her skin. She rushed to the door, sure that her brother must have lost his key.
The sight of Nathan Thunder standing on her doorstep stole every thought from her head.
“Evening, Gwen,” he greeted her. “My dispatcher got word to me that you called. I thought I’d stop by and check on you. Is everything okay?”
The concern on his handsome face nearly made her knees buckle. All Gwen wanted to do was lean on him, unload all her troubles onto his shoulders. He was barely in the door when she let her concerns roll off her tongue.
“I don’t know where Brian is. He’s never been this late before. He could be out there getting into trouble. He could be hurt. He could be—”
“Okay, now—”
His voice was soft, gentle, and so were his hands as he slid his fingers over her upper arms. He pulled her against his chest.
“—don’t let your imagination get the best of you, Gwen.”
Something happened when he embraced her. The molecules in the air heated and swirled, danced and constricted. Gwen felt as if she’d suddenly been enveloped by a warm, downy blanket.
The smoky spice of his cologne filled her lungs like a drug. For some reason, the idea of laying her head on his shoulder didn’t seem the least bit strange. He held her for what seemed a delicious eternity. She felt safe. She felt as if nothing bad could ever happen to her. Soon her heartbeat steadied and her tense muscles relaxed.
Leaning away from her, yet obviously unwilling to release her completely, he asked, “You feeling better?”
Although she felt impelled to answer him with a small nod, leaving the safe haven of his arms was the last thing she wanted to do. This hazy stupor held her a willing captive.
Then she began to tremble with some unnamable thing, something that had nothing whatsoever to do with fear and distress over her brother. A silent yet humming electricity seemed to crackle about them, snapping and sparkling like bare high-voltage wires.
How had this energy manifested itself so instantaneously? Or had it been there all along and she was only now comprehending it? And where, she wondered, was the vibrant current going to lead?
She studied his gaze as he studied hers. Of one thing she was certain—wherever it led, her drowsy mind reasoned, she was eager to follow.
Brian pushed his way through the front door.
“Hey.”
As he spoke the greeting, he lifted his chin at her and Nathan as if coming in this late was commonplace, as if he came home every day to find his sister in a man’s arms.
Immediately Nathan released Gwen, and without his nearness to warm her, she was hit with the sensation of being chilled to the bone. But the appearance of her brother caused her to be bombarded with numerous emotions all at once: relief that he was safe and sound, anger that he’d caused her such worry, irritation that he seemed untroubled by this whole situation. Heck, he acted as if there wasn’t a situation at all!
“Hey, man—” Brian grinned at Nathan “—I don’t know what brought the police here, but whatever it was, I didn’t do it.”
“You’re not in any trouble,” Nathan assured her brother. “I’m just here to check on your sister.” Solemnity knitted his brow. “She was worried about you.”
“Oh.” Brian looked from Nathan to Gwen, unspoken curiosity lighting his eyes. “As you can see,” he said to his sister, “I’m okay.” Then without another word he turned with the clear intention of making for his room.
“Hold it! Where have you been?” Gwen demanded.
Brian shrugged. “Out.”
“Out where?” She raised her hands, palms heavenward, her level of frustration impossible to contain. “Brian, you’ve got school tomorrow. You should have been here doing your homework long ago. Dinner is ruined. You left no message telling me where you were going or who you’d be with. What is going on with you? You’ve never done anything like this before.”
There was pointed accusation in her tone. She heard it. But there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. Anxiety had taken control.
His red hair, with its wiry texture, was sticking out in several directions. He was sweaty and grimy. But Gwen was too upset to remark on his physical appearance.
His face turned crimson. Being reprimanded in front of Nathan, whom he barely knew, embarrassed him, that much was evident.
“I’m going to bed,” he declared. “Like you said, I have school tomorrow.”
He moved to duck around her, but she planted herself in front of him.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” She glared at him. “You’re not walking away from this. You’re going to tell me who you’ve been with, where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.”
“I don’t have to tell you nothin’.”
Correcting his grammar never even entered her head. She was too overwhelmed by the injury his disrespectful tone of voice caused her.
“You’re not my boss,” he went on. “I’m old enough to come and go as I please.”
For several seconds Gwen was so shocked she couldn’t get her tongue to work. But then it loosened. Oh, boy! Did it ever loosen.
“You’re thirteen years old. I’m responsible for you. Besides that, we’re a family, Brian. I don’t go off without telling you where I am, what I’m doing, when I’ll be home. I think I deserve the same consideration from you.”
Had that loud and angry lecture really spewed from her throat? What must Nathan think of her? She felt as if her mind and her body were no longer her own. Frustration and impatience had taken her hostage.
“I’m not talkin’ about this!” Brian asserted hotly.
Refusing to meet her gaze, he shouldered his way around her, and Gwen was aware of the stench of cigarette smoke clinging to him. She opened her mouth to call him back, but Nathan’s hand on her shoulder quieted her.
“Let him go,” he quietly suggested.
The gentle pressure of his fingers calmed her, and that idea was comforting to her. Strange. Unexplainable. Definitely out of the ordinary for her. Yet comforting, nonetheless.
Brian’s bedroom door latch clicked closed.
“That boy is going to make me lose my mind,” she whispered.
She turned, her gaze falling on Nathan’s face for the first time since her brother had returned home. Instantly she remembered the churning heat that had surrounded them as he’d held her close, and awkwardness descended on her like a thick, immobilizing fog.
Nathan, on the other hand, didn’t seem the least bit discomfited.
“Continuing this conversation with him now will only escalate the argument,” he said. “At least you know he’s safe.”
Gwen sighed. That much was true.
“Now that I know he’s okay,” she quipped, “how many years would I spend in jail if I strangled him for making me worry so?”
He laughed out loud, and the sound of it broke the tension pent up inside her. She grinned.
“Raising kids these days is tough,” he allowed.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
He looked at her quizzically and she knew he wanted her to elaborate. But she didn’t know him well enough to be laying out her life story for him.
“Let me just say that my brother didn’t have very good role models in his life.” After a moment she softly added, “I just hope he’s not going down the wrong path.”
Nathan’s brow smoothed. “It looked to me as if he was acting just like any other rebellious teen would.”
Oh, if only she could be certain that was true. “You really think so?”
“I do.”
He offered her a half smile, and Gwen was struck with the notion that it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen in her life.
He continued, “I’ll bet my last dollar that tomorrow morning, he’ll apologize for coming in late. You mark my words.”
His face brightened and he reached around to pull his wallet from his hip pocket.
“One of the first things I did when I came to the rez,” he told her, “was to start a single parents group. We meet at the Community Center.” He handed her a card. “You’re more than welcome to attend the meetings.”
She balked. “But I’m not Brian’s mother, I’m his sister—”
“Doesn’t matter,” he cut her off. “You said it yourself just a moment ago. You’re responsible for him. You’re raising him on your own.”
“Well…”
“Just think about it,” he said. “It’s good to have others to talk to.”
Silence tumbled down around them as they exchanged a long, silent look. The stiffness Gwen had felt before returned full force. She couldn’t keep her gaze on his face.
Her smile seemed plastic-coated. “Well, thank you for stopping by to check on us. I really appreciate it.”
“I’m the sheriff. Checking up on people is what I do.”
However, Gwen couldn’t help but identify the hope swelling in her heart that there was more to his presence here tonight than his merely doing his job.
After he’d said good-night and Gwen was alone in her small living room, she thought about all that had happened. That odd, breathtaking heat she’d felt when Nathan had held her against him. The way his touch had calmed her when she’d felt such frustration at her brother’s refusal to tell her where he’d been.
Nathan stirred something in her. Something amazing, something mysterious…
Then the stern, self-preserving voice in her head turned scolding. You don’t know Nathan Thunder. He’s a stranger. It’s terribly unwise for you to trust a man you don’t know.
She’d been hurt by men she’d loved in the past. Hurt beyond measure. Her father. Her stepfather. Men who hadn’t deserved the trust she’d so innocently placed in their hands.
It would be best for her to stay away from Nathan. He made her feel things she didn’t understand. He made her—
A thump from Brian’s room had Gwen blinking her way out of the foggy haze of her thoughts and looking down the hallway at her brother’s closed bedroom door. Apprehension crept over her. She loved her brother, but acting as Brian’s guardian often overwhelmed her. Sure she taught six-year-olds, but what did she know about raising a teen? And with Brian’s background, she had more than the normal teen problems with which to contend.
It sure would be nice to have somewhere to go for advice. Somewhere to turn for help.
It’s good to have others to talk to. Nathan’s words beamed through her muddled thoughts like a small ray of hope, warming and bright.
Trepidation rose inside her, snuffing out the warmth. Fear of trusting clawed at her. Nathan was a man, and she’d learned over the course of her life that it wasn’t judicious for women to rely on men. It just wasn’t. They’d fail you, again and again.
In the end, she tucked Nathan’s card in the letter box by the phone, firming her resolve. She didn’t need a man solving her problems. She could work them out herself. If she put her mind to it, she could.
Chapter Three
Gwen stood outside the Community Center the following Thursday evening, unable to deny the trepidation that congealed in her stomach like a lump of cold oatmeal. Would she be accepted by the other attendees once it was revealed that she was not a parent, but the sibling of the child she was responsible for? Maybe it wouldn’t make any difference, a calm voice silently crooned. But then she remembered just how judgmental people could be.
She’d told Nathan last week she wouldn’t come to the meeting. She’d told herself she could solve her own problems. So why had she hunted for the card he’d given her to discover the meeting details? Why had she walked across the reservation to the Community Center?
Her steps slowed until they stopped altogether.
As she tarried, refusing to face the honest-to-goodness truth, she couldn’t help but admire the year-old stone-and-wood structure. When Gwen had accepted the job as first-grade teacher here on Smoke Valley Reservation, she’d read all the books she could find on the Kolheek, its culture and its history. She’d been interested in the rez itself, too. The principal of the rez school, Mrs. Halley, was full-blooded Kolheek and had been happy to take Gwen on a tour. Mrs. Halley had explained how there hadn’t been an architect living at Smoke Valley when plans for the Community Center had been first brought up by the tribe’s Council of Elders. But a granddaughter of one of the Elders, a young woman living in the Midwest, was working as an architectural engineer, and she had eagerly agreed to travel to Vermont to design the new building.
The rock had been hewn right from the mountainside, the timber harvested from the thick forests of the reservation. When Gwen had entered the building for the first time, she remembered marveling at how the outside of the structure was circular, yet the meeting rooms inside gave the illusion of being square—or nearly so. Yet at the very center of the building was a huge, round auditorium, a platform at its core, a high, domed ceiling overhead.
There was no doubt that the Community Center was an impressive building. Mrs. Halley had boasted, as only a native of the rez could, about how inexpensively the tribe had built the structure, most of the materials having come from Kolheek land and all the decorations having been donated by local Native American artisans.
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