He nodded, clearly unsurprised by what she'd learned was Indian custom.
Jenna combed her fingers through her hair. "I hadn't meant to bring all that up. Thanks for listening to me ramble. I don't know how I got so off track. I was just trying to explain why I didn't have it in me to tackle the job of packing up the house back then."
She sighed. "However, as exasperated as I was with the Council, I did understand their need to get the house ready for new renters. So I agreed to allow them to oversee the job." She smiled ruefully. "I have a feeling they would have done it even if I hadn't agreed."
"Probably," he agreed softly.
"I made arrangements for this unit and the movers brought everything here. There's supposed to be a typed inventory somewhere."
"I'm sure it will turn up."
Jenna turned and made her way farther down the aisle. She saw boxes labeled by room and contents.
Kitchen: Small Appliances
Kitchen: Cutlery
Living Room: Knickknacks
Sighing, she plunked her hands on her hips. Eventually, she'd have to sort through everything, of course. Some items she'd keep for Lily. But she'd have to get rid of much of the stuff. Jenna couldn't see Lily ever needing or wanting a twenty-year-old clock radio or electric can opener.
But for the life of her, she couldn't imagine disposing of anything that belonged to her sister and brother-in-law, be it a can opener or a dry, crusty paintbrush. Not just yet. The grief in her was still too raw. But surely that would change. She hoped and prayed it would. Surely, time had a way of, if not healing, then at least lessening the pain of one's wounds.
Time. That was what she needed.
Her gaze fell on a box near her feet marked Master Bedroom: Family Photos and Albums. Without allowing herself to ihink about it, Jenna bent over and peeled up one corner of the tape. She gave a quick and forceful jerk and the box flaps came free.
There on top were two framed snapshots. The first one, faded with age, was a black-and-white image of Amy as an infant. A three-year-old Jenna cradled her new sister in her arms while their mother beamed at them.
The second photo was much more recent. Amy sat next to Jenna on a sofa, newborn Lily snuggled between them.
As she stared at the pictures, powerful emotions rumbled within her like so much thunder. She squatted down, resting her bottom on a cardboard box, and let emotion engulf her.
Gage made his way back from the far side of the storage unit where he'd wandered through the sea of brown boxes. He'd called Jenna's name to say he'd made a startling discovery, but when he turned to find her, she was nowhere in sight. It wasn't that the unit was all that huge, but many of the stacks reached near ceiling level.
He found her hunched near an open box. Whatever it was she'd found seemed to hold her mesmerized.
Although she'd clearly displayed herself as a strong woman in the weeks she'd been under his roof, he'd also discerned vulnerability in her. A vulnerability she was loath to show. It was that tiny glimpse of defenselessness, he believed, that stirred his response to her. His urge to protect her.
Of course, any man with a heart beating in his chest, with blood running through his veins, would respond to this woman. Her brown eyes were expressive. Her shiny auburn hair lured a man to explore its silkiness. And her delicate features would entice even the stoniest of men.
It wasn't as if he'd never encountered a beautiful woman before. But Jenna was more than that. For some reason, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. He wanted to keep her safe from harm. Wanted to make her smile.
However, some self-preserving intuition told him that the desires she churned in him were dangerous to his well-being.
Even when he crouched beside her, it was clear that she was oblivious to his presence. Peering over her shoulder, he spied the family photos she held in her fingers.
He touched her upper arm and she gasped softly, her golden-brown gaze flying to his.
"I called you," he said.
"Sorry." Her cheeks flushed and her gaze returned to the pictures. "I guess I got wrapped up in the past."
Her light floral perfume floated on the still and dusty air, and an overwhelming impulse struck him. But he battled the itch to lean even closer, to press his nose to her warm skin and inhale the scent of her deep into his lungs.
Jenna placed the framed photos back in the box with what he could only describe as a gentle and loving hand.
Tipping her chin up, she asked, "Could we take this box with us when we leave?"
The despair coursing through her was laid bare, leaving her open. Exposed.
"Of course." The compulsion to shelter, to protect, hit him with astonishing strength. He knew the sadness of losing a loved one. If he could take that away for her, he would.
Then the emotion pulsing from her transformed, and Gage sensed that the heartache she'd suffered just an instant before dissipated to be replaced by something different . . . something perilously risky.
Desire.
He had the amazing sensation that he'd reached some sort of fork in the path of his life, a significant juncture that had the potential to forever alter his existence. His thoughts were whirling too fast for him to figure out the what, why and how of the moment. He only knew this instant, this event, was important.
Her soft lips glistened in the light cast by the bare bulb overhead. She pursed her mouth slightly, seeming to beckon him silently to act. Then her eyelids fluttered closed. His heart hammered, his blood slogged through his body.
Dark lashes fanned against creamy skin that he easily imagined would be satiny soft. Helplessly, he reached out to run his fingertips along the rise of her cheekbone, down the fine curve of her jaw. At his touch, her nostrils flared a fraction when she inhaled deeply, expectantly.
Her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling. The swell of her breasts pressed against the cotton fabric of her top, and he ached to smooth his hands over their ripeness, feel their weight in his palms. But instead, he merely let his fingertips travel down the length of her throat. Her hot pulse throbbed against his skin. He stopped at the curve of her collarbone.
The rational part of his brain went to war with the desires of his body. Hunkered down next to her, he prayed for the conflict to come to some resolution. He thought his pause was merely momentary. But evidently it had been much longer than he thought because she opened her eyes, her questioning gaze clashing with his.
Discomfort settled over him, and he wanted to apologize to her. For what, he couldn't quite say. For not kissing her? For not tugging her down and taking her right there on the gritty concrete floor?
"It's all right."
Her voice sounded husky and sexy as hell. He knew his brow was knit with bewilderment as well as indecision.
Slowly, confidently, she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "Nothing may have happened just now," she said, her tone so low it was nearly a whisper. "But I think we just experienced a momentous event."
A delicious tingle ran down his spine when she chuckled.
The momentous event, he suddenly realized, was that both of them were fully aware of the sexual temptation each posed for the other.
"Jenna —" her name rasped from his throat as if his larynx had turned into a rusty spring "— I, um, I'm not looking for this . . . well, for this kind of . . ."
"It's okay," she assured him once again. "It really is okay, Gage."
He hated that he felt so awkward when she seemed so cool ... so at ease with this strange turn of events.
Not that he hadn't wanted her before this moment. He'd felt drawn to her from the very first. He'd admired her strength. She hadn't blinked an eye about taking on the Elders in order to acquire custody of Lily. She'd uprooted herself and changed her whole life in order to do what she had to do for her niece. And he'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed her physical beauty. Yes, she had roused in him needs that were perfectly natural. But he'
d been able to rein in his feelings. Until now.
He gulped in air, instantly desperate to focus on something — anything — else.
The artwork. Of course. That was why he'd come looking for her to begin with.
"I found something," he said. He rose to his feet. Held out his hand to help her do the same. "Something I think you'll want to see."
She slid her palm against his, curled her lingers and gripped tightly. The heat of her caused a hitch deep in his gut. The instant she was standing, he released his hold on her.
"This way." He turned and weaved through the boxes toward the left wall of the storage room.
Gage knew the instant Jenna saw the canvases by her sharp inhalation.
"My God," she whispered, her tone awed. "I expected to find artwork among Amy and David's things, but I never expected anything like this. There must be two hundred pieces here."
He pressed himself against a wall of cardboard so she could get a better look. As she passed him, he was too aware of the feminine scent of her, a fragrance evoking the image of walking through a wildflower meadow on a hot summer day.
He said, "I haven't checked carefully, but it looks like there's more stacked against the back wall."
While Jenna busied herself looking over the art collection, Gage allowed himself to study her.
Astonishment sparkled in her golden gaze and flushed her lovely face, making him remember the softness of her skin against his fingertips just moments before.
The fact that he'd reached out to stroke her face troubled him a great deal. Why had he acted on the urge to touch her this time when he'd been able to subdue all impulses before today?
When he'd approached her, she'd been engrossed in those pictures. Engrossed in the past. Engrossed in a moment of time spent with her sister that would never and could never be repeated. She'd looked distressed and . . . vulnerable.
"These are wonderful!"
Evidently, the surprise she felt was giving way to excitement. He was relieved to see a smile light up her beautiful face as she momentarily glanced his way.
"I can't allow this stuff to stay hidden in here," she told him. "Amy and David would want their work seen. Enjoyed. I've got to find some way to make that happen."
She went back to investigating the canvases.
Pleasure arrowed through him when he realized she was no longer focusing on the sadness of the past, but was instead enthusiastically concentrating on the future.
"You'll think of something," he murmured.
He pressed his lips together, troubled by the hot and unmistakable desire that once again curled low in his belly. He reminded himself that it was Jenna's vulnerability that was affecting him so deeply.
He scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck, suspecting that there was more to what he was experiencing than he was willing to admit. But he staunchly stomped the idea as if it was some sort of bug under his boot.
Normally, he wasn't a man who lied to himself. He believed that a person who traveled through life ignoring the truth was in jeopardy of losing his true self.
But the thought of shining a light on the reality of his situation made him too nervous. He just wasn't ready. Every time he imagined himself getting involved with a woman again, the guilt lying dormant like so much silty sludge would churn and eddy, muddying his thinking. Besides, it wasn't as if his rationale was a complete fabrication. Jenna was vulnerable. And he did identify with the anguish she was experiencing. His wanting to comfort her didn't make him a bad guy.
Okay, so maybe he was focusing on only half of the truth. But it was all he could handle. For now.
"I'll bring your order shortly." The teen smiled politely and then backed away from the table.
Gage had agreed with Jenna's suggestion to have lunch at Hannah's Home-Style Diner after they picked up Lily from Arlene's house. The baby sat in a high chair at one end of the table, happily gnawing on the floppy ear of a light blue stuffed elephant.
"Thanks for going with me today." Jenna unfolded the linen napkin in front of her and laid it on her lap. "I felt as if I'd stepped onto a roller coaster — down one minute while I was lost in memories of my sister, and up the next while I was looking through her and David's artwork. I think it would have been worse for me if I had been alone."
However, the wild emotional ride she'd experienced hadn't been caused solely by sorting through Amy's and David's belongings. Gage had done more than his fair share of rousing her feelings, as well.
"I was happy I could be there with you."
She watched his calloused fingers fidget as he shifted first the saltshaker, then the pepper shaker, then rearranged the small plastic container that held sugar packets. She remembered the feel of his work-roughened skin against hers when he'd caressed the side of her face. The hunger in his black eyes had pierced her to the very marrow of her bones. The memory alone made her stomach thrill with delight even now.
She guessed the wise thing would be to ignore the feelings throbbing through her. She sure didn't need another complication in what was already a complicated mess —lying to the entire Lenape Nation about why she'd married this man. Besides, she would bet her last dollar that Gage would rather grab the molten end of a fiery-hot poker than surrender to the obvious attraction swirling around them. He just wasn't the kind of man who gave in to temptation easily. That was why she'd been so stunned when he'd done just that. She still couldn't believe he'd actually reached out to her.
But she also hadn't been the least bit surprised when his fingers had stilled, when he'd restrained his thoughts, his emotions, his desires. His entire body had tensed when he'd withdrawn, and then he'd pretty much told her that acting on their attraction had been a mistake.
"Hi, Jenna. Gage." A smile spread across the face of the Native American woman who approached their table. As owner of the diner and Arlene's daughter, Hannah Johnson had become somewhat of a friend to Jenna during Jenna's battle with the Council of Elders. "How are you folks today?"
"We're just fine, Hannah," Gage said. "How about yourself?"
"Oh, I can't complain. Are you coming to the Stomp Dance?"
Gage's dark brows rose. "I hadn't heard about it."
Excitement spread across Hannah's beautiful face. "You've got to come. Now that you're married, it's time for you to stop hiding from us." Her tone softened as she added, "It's time you made peace with your grandfather, as well. It's silly that the two of you live so close, yet continue to let the wall of silence between you stand. Knock it down, Gage. It would be easy enough to do."
Jenna quickly hid her surprise. She'd had no idea that Gage had a grandfather living on Broken Bow, or that they weren't speaking.
"What's silly —" Gage's dark gaze glittered with a good-natured cheer "— is that you honestly believe I'll take your advice."
Hannah chuckled. "Isn't there an old adage that says keep banging them over the head and someday the message will sink in? Come on," she coaxed. "Come to the dance, at least. Jenna needs to experience a gathering."
"I'd love to go," Jenna said.
"It's this Saturday," Hannah told them. "People will start congregating early, I'm sure, since they'll be coming from miles around. But dinner won't be served until ax. It's a potluck, so bring your appetite and a dish of some sort to share. Doesn't have to be fancy. There'll be a bonfire once the sun goes down. There'll be music. Plenty of dancing. And storytelling, too. You'll have fun."
Hannah's dark eyes filled with concern as she changed the subject. "I heard you were over at the storage unit this morning. You okay?"
Jenna hoped the smile and nod she offered would set Hannah's mind at ease. "I left Lily with your mother. Did she tell you where we went?"
"I knew Mom was watching this cute thing —" Hannah ruffled Lily's hair eliciting a gleeful gurgle from the happy baby "— but I've had three different customers who stopped in this morning mention that they'd seen Gage's truck out at the self-storage place. I just hope you weren't too u
pset."
It warmed Jenna to know she had people who were concerned about her. "I'm okay," she said. "I had a somber moment or two. That's to be expected, I guess. But I wasn't alone. Gage was right there with me."
Jenna gazed gratefully at Gage, and had to suppress her grin when she saw that he looked ill at ease.
"It's good to have someone to share those kinds of things with," Hannah observed.
She patted Gage on the shoulder. "You're a good guy."
He was a good guy, Jenna realized. Going with her on her trip to the storage unit wasn't something he'd had to do, yet he hadn't hesitated to offer his support.
"I found lots of artwork," Jenna told Hannah. "One thing I learned today is that my sister and her husband were very prolific."
"Are you going to sell it?" Hannah asked.
"I haven't had a chance to think about it," Jenna said. "I sure can't leave it where it is."
"I agree," Gage said. "It would be a shame if all that work was left hidden away in that building. I mean, David Collins had several shows in Chicago, didn't he? And you said that he and your sister would want people to enjoy their art."
"Jenna," Hannah said, "why don't you ask the Council if you could display David and Amy's work in the Community Center? You could even post prices on them. Or you could place some of the pieces on consignment with an art gallery in Billings. Heck," she continued, "you could contact a Chicago gallery for that matter, to see if they'd be willing to sell the work for you."
"A gallery would expect a hefty cut of the profits, I'm sure,” Gage warned.
The idea of selling the artwork set Jenna's thoughts churning. "A Web site," she murmured. "I could create a Web site with pictures of all the pieces." Her excitement intensified as ideas continued to come to her. "In fact, I could make a Web site to accommodate all the artisans here on Broken Bow. There have to be other artists on the reservation."
Bound by Honor Page 8
