Sarah rounded the corner of the table to stand next to her daughter. She spoke a few words in rapid Cherokee, frowning up at Reese as she spoke.
“Well, I guess that makes it unanimous.” Reese expelled a slow, martyred sigh, before heading toward the stairs.
He hated to admit he was wrong. He hated to apologize to Faith, but Mary had a point. Perhaps he had been hasty in his judgment. He hoped she wasn’t crying. He didn’t think he could handle her tears. He sighed again, running his fingers through his hair. It had been a bitch of a day! A day that had appeared so promising at dawn when he’d been making love to Faith. God, but it had gone downhill since then. It bothered him to think how badly the day had turned out. And if it bothered him, how must Faith feel?
Reese shook his head, as if to clear it. He hadn’t thought about anyone else’s feelings in a very long time. He paused in front of his bedroom door, then turned the knob. He expected the door to be locked, but it swung open.
Faith lay on her stomach, fully clothed, across the reassembled bed. She didn’t move when Reese opened the door. She didn’t bother to acknowledge his presence.
“Faith?” He took a couple of steps into the room.
“Please go away.” She didn’t turn over.
“I was told to come up here and apologize.”
“Fine. Now go away.”
“I came to apologize.” Reese moved next to t
he bed. “Did you hear me?”
“I heard you.” Her voice was dull, flat.
“I said I was sorry!” Reese was rapidly losing patience with her.
“No,” Faith corrected wearily. “You said you were ordered to apologize to me.”
Reese was uneasy with the situation. “Well, at least I know how to follow orders.”
“Then follow mine. Go away and leave me alone.”
“No.”
Faith rolled over to look at him. Her gray eyes brimmed with tears. Her face was blotched and swollen from the ones she’d already cried. “Why not?”
“Because you haven’t said you forgive me.”
“I forgive you.” She said the words, but her heart wasn’t in them. “Now please leave me alone. I’m too tired to fight with you.”
She should have forgiven him by now, Reese thought. She should be telling him how sorry she was for all this fuss. Faith had said the words, but she didn’t mean them. For some reason, he couldn’t leave it alone. “I won’t leave until I know you’ve forgiven me.”
“Forget it. There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Faith, I?” he began.
“Leave it alone! Don’t you see? You were right. I was shocked! I’ve always prided myself on my lack of prejudice, and yet I was shocked to find Mary and Sarah in your house. Shocked to find they were relatives! Do you know what kind of person that makes me?” Faith choked on her words, choked on the bitter taste of self-recrimination.
“Human.”
“What?” She met his gaze, her gray eyes were wide with astonishment.
“I said it makes you human.” Reese sat down on the corner of the bed. “All human beings have prejudices of some kind.” He moved to touch her, but she rolled away.
“But to stare like I did. I knew it was rude, but I couldn’t stop.”
“Have you ever seen an Indian before today?” he asked gently.
“No, but that’s no excuse for being?”