Promise Canyon (Virgin River #13)(66)

"Oh, Clay..."

"It took my father and uncles about twelve hours to get there. My father asked one question of the police. Did you test his blood? The deputy said, 'Sir, we have a rodeo in town. By the time we could get to that, too many hours had passed for an accurate blood-alcohol level. But the boy passed out.' And my father, who carried his leather folder, calmly asked the deputy if he thought I'd cut off my own hair. Then he explained that it had been twelve hours--they could do the blood test immediately and if there had been enough alcohol in me to have caused me to pass out, at least trace amounts would show up. But if nothing showed up, they'd know I was unconscious from the beating and they were at fault for taking me to jail instead of to the emergency room--that would open up an interesting dialogue with the courts. He said, 'Either do a blood test or release him to us now.' And they let me go. I had a concussion. And this," he said, running a finger along a faint scar under his eye on his cheekbone.

"Did your father ever ask you if you were drunk?"

Clay shook his head. "He knew that if alcohol was a problem for me, it wouldn't be long before he'd see it again. And again. And again." He smiled. "He didn't."

"Did you have problems like that a lot? Because of being Navajo?"

"No," he said. "Fascination. Curiosity. People ask questions cautiously, as if they're afraid to offend me. I always answer and invite them to visit the reservation." He smoothed her hair over an ear. "Have you ever had any problems?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I would give anything to see all those big, stern Navajos bearing down on the police. Or the parents of your girlfriend. I bet when people remember those events, they imagine the Navajos wearing buckskin and feathers."

"They fully intend to appear as a tribe. There is pride in the tribe. I grew up hearing that. It's in their eyes...."

"It's in your eyes," she said softly.

He looked surprised for a second. Then he relaxed into a smile. "I don't mean any offense, but it's not in your eyes, my blue-eyed girl. Tell me your secrets. Tell me when you were most afraid."

She inhaled deeply and rolled on top of him. "I will, but not right now. Right now I want to thank you. I had a very bad romance when I was young and it left me scarred and broken. I'll tell you all about it some other time, but tonight I want to make love and then sleep on your hair, pulling it when I move in my sleep and making you whimper and grunt." She laughed and ran her fingers into the hair at his temples.

"Why must you do that?" he asked. "I could braid it and we could both sleep."

"I love your hair. I love it free. That's how I see you when I dream about you."

"And...why exactly are you thanking me?"

She gave him a little kiss. "I wasn't sure I would ever trust a man again. I stayed far away from men. I buried myself in work and school. I wasn't going to take any chances. But then you came along and..." She shrugged and smoothed a hand over his bronze, hairless chest. "Maybe I'm just a naive fool, but I believe everything you tell me. I trust everything you say."

"Then trust this, sweetheart. Ayor'anosh'ni. I think I'm in love with you."

"I think you've been in love a hundred times before..."

"No. No, that's not true. I thought I was in love a couple of times, but it was such a struggle--there were so many barriers. This time, this is as it should be--easy. Free. Pleasant and comfortable." Then one side of his mouth lifted in a sexy grin. "Hot, wild, crazy and amazing, too." His voice lowered to a whisper. "This time is different for me, Lilly. Is it different for you?"

"It is," she whispered back. "It is."

And then they felt a slight, brief vibration beneath them, from under the bed; there was a definite disturbance in the stable. "Earthquake," Clay whispered. "A small earthquake."

"We haven't had an earthquake since I've lived here," she said.

He rolled her off him and sat up. "Oh, that's what it was. I experienced quite a few in Los Angeles. Don't move. Don't dress. I'm going to check on the animals, then I'm going to come back here and rock your world for real."

Colin Riordan had many visitors while he was hospitalized--three of his brothers plus several phone calls from his fourth brother, Patrick, who was sitting alert on an aircraft carrier. His three-month deployment was winding to a close and he promised to visit Colin at Fort Benning as soon as he was stateside. Maureen and George had parked their fancy motorcoach at an RV park near Fort Hood and were at the hospital every day. Other visitors included men from his unit who had been with him on exercises. At first they came because they were still at Fort Hood, and then a couple of them caught military hops from Fort Benning.

Sean was the first to leave Fort Hood and head back to Maxwell AFB after a few days; Aiden was second to leave, returning to Chico to meet with a group of physicians whose ob-gyn practice he was considering joining. Luke stayed on until the arrangements to send Colin back to Fort Benning were nearly complete. One of Colin's buddies was going to accompany him on a commercial flight out of Houston, see that he was settled in the Wounded Warriors Resource Center where his full-time job for the Army, for now, was getting well. Maureen and George had plans to follow in the RV and park there for a couple of weeks, until Maureen had peace of mind that Colin was on the mend and didn't need his mother for anything.