Montan a Wildfire

"Penny for your thoughts," Little Bear repeated as he settled himself in the chair he'd drawn up beside hers. "That was the first white-eyes phrase Gail taught me. I use it often. What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing," she lied. "Nothing at all."

Little Bear sat back in his chair and, crossing one deerskin clad leg over the other, nodded. "Gail has told me it is impolite to call the few guests we have liars, so I will refrain. I will, however, say that the women I know smile in that particular fashion only when they are thinking of a particular man. Were you thinking of a man, Amanda Lennox?" He slanted her a dark, probing glance. "Were you thinking of Blackhawk?"

Amanda glanced guiltily down at the baby. Jacob was sleeping soundly, curled up in her arms. She stroked the tip of her index finger over his thick, dark hair, and said, "Why on earth would I be thinking of Jake? The man deserted me on your doorstep, for heaven's sake. That's a good enough reason not to waste my thoughts on him. As it is, I'm wondering at this point if he plans to come back for me."

"Did he promise you he would?"

"Yes."

"Then he will."

And that, Amanda suspected by the tone of Little Bear's voice, was that. To this man's mind, if Jake had promised to come back for her, he would come back. It was that simple.

It wasn't so simple to Amanda. After all, she was the one Jake had said those ugly words to, not Little Bear. She was the one he had loved one minute, then cast aside the next. As far as she was concerned, she wouldn't believe Jake was coming back for her until she saw him sitting astride his white in the woods where they'd agreed to meet, and not a second sooner. Until then, she would cling to her doubts; they alone offered protection from the pain that sliced into her heart.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. The fire crackled and popped in the hearth. Kane, sleeping in the straw basket beside Amanda's chair, cooed sleepily. An icy wind rattled the window panes.

"Where's Gail?" Amanda asked finally, feeling a sudden need for conversation. Though she felt Little Bear's contemplative gaze on her, she didn't look up.

"Our mat. The children tire her." His pause was riddled with speculation. "You are good with children, Amanda Lennox."

Amanda thought of Roger Thornton Bannister III.

Her stomach tightened with equal measures of distaste and concern. "I like most children," she answered evasively.

"My sons like you."

She smiled softly. "They seem to, don't they?"

"And you like them."

"Yes, very much."

"Even though they are only half white?"

Ah, she'd wondered where he was leading this conversation. Now she knew. Amanda chided herself for not expecting Little Bear's bluntness. It was one of the first things she'd learned about this man; he was nothing if not direct. The second was that if he liked you, you knew it. Gail was the same way. However, where Little Bear had offered his friendship almost immediately after their rocky meeting had been put behind them, Jake's sister was still withholding hers.

Amanda's chin came up, and she turned her head and met Little Bear's questioning ebony gaze squarely. "You know," she said, her voice low and edgy, "I'm getting tired of everyone demanding I look at the color of their skin before I decide whether or not to like them. And I'm equally as tired of everyone seeing me as 'white' and then deciding whether or not to like me. I'm not just white, dammit, I'm a human being. I have feelings and emotions just like everyone else. Why won't any of you see that?"

"I see it," Little Bear answered quietly, apparently not at all upset by her outburst.

Well, maybe he wasn't, but Amanda was upset by it. And ashamed. Ladies did not yell at one's host. She knew that, and yet... God, she was confused! She softened her tone. "I know you do, Little Bear. And I thank you for it, really I do."

He reached across their chairs and patted the smooth white hand that rested atop his son's stomach. "Gail will see it, too. In time."

"How much time? I won't be here forever, you know."

"No. But you will be here until Blackhawk comes for you."

Amanda chuckled derisively and shook her head. "Then I'll be here forever. I really don't think he's coming back."

"You are wrong."

Amanda pursed her lips; wanting with all her heart to believe it, yet not daring to—because of that same, aching heart. "You sound very sure of yourself, my strange new friend."

"I have reason to be."