As they stepped into the comfortable-looking living room-with a contemporary brown leather sofa, matching love seat and recliner-the smell of fresh coffee greeted her.
“Coffee!” she said, ignoring the rest of the furnishings to focus on the sensory delight. Following her nose, Dana went directly to the kitchen and poured herself a cup from the large coffeemaker that had been left plugged in. Ranger put the car inside the garage, then came back into the kitchen to join her.
Several dishes were in the drain rack, dry, but the sink was still wet on the bottom. “Where are our hosts? They haven’t been gone long, have they?”
“No, but they won’t return till we leave. Safety precaution.”
“You arranged for someone to give up their home so we could stay here tonight?”
“That’s the way it works,” he said, not elaborating.
She offered him some coffee, but he shook his head. “I’m going to try to catch a few hours of sleep.”
“You’re going to need more than that. You’ve been up all night.”
“A few hours is all I need,” he answered.
“Do you think anyone will mind if I take some food from the fridge?”
“No. We can take as much as we want,” he said. Looking around, he spotted some fry bread in a plastic storage pouch on the counter beside a container of honey.
“Fry bread,” she said, hungrily, following his gaze. “Care to share?”
He pushed the bag with the puffy, saucer-size pieces of golden skillet bread to the center of the table and placed the honey beside it. They each took a few pieces from the bag, then poured honey liberally over the tops.
“This tastes great,” she said, licking the honey from her fingertips.
Hungry, they almost ate the entire contents of the bag.
“Now that my stomach’s no longer empty, I’m going to take a shower,” he said. “Then I’ll catch some shut-eye.”
“I like the way you set your priorities,” she said, laughing.
He stood. “There’s only one bedroom, so if we stay the night, the bed is yours.” He tilted her head up and brushed a crumb from her lip with his thumb. “But if we share the bed, I promise not to hog the covers,” he added, his gaze holding hers.
The impact of that look melted her insides, but somehow she managed to find her voice. “No sharing. Behave.”
“I behave very well in bed. I guarantee you’ll wake up with a smile.”
Her thoughts blurred and her skin flushed with an almost seductive warmth, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “You need that shower-a long, cold shower,” she answered, her heart beating so fast she was close to having a heart attack.
He smiled, then walked away.
“Ranger?”
He glanced back at her. The look in his eyes was filled with just a touch of promise and sent a shiver racing through her. “I just wanted to ask you if I could use the phone…”
“Of course. Anything else? The shower here is large and modern. What are your feelings on water conservation?”
His gaze held a caress more intimate than should have been possible. For a brief eternity, Dana’s brain stopped working.
He raised one eyebrow and smiled slowly. “Don’t think about it so much. Sometimes it’s better to just follow your heart.”
Suddenly aware she’d been holding her breath, she gasped, her face turning scarlet. “Go take your shower,” she managed to say.
He came toward her, stripping off his shirt as he did. “But playing in the water can be such fun.”
His bronzed, muscular shoulders and that beautiful strong chest were like a playground for consenting adults. Her fingers tingled as she fought the urge to touch him…to press herself against him.
Ranger held out his hand. “Come and play,” he whispered.
The deep resonance of his voice traveled straight to her center. She wanted to…and it was crazy. She never acted on impulse. It just wasn’t her. Yet, at that moment, following him made all the sense in the world to her.
She rose to her feet, then a loud explosion from somewhere down the highway rattled the windows. “What was that?” she asked, flinching.
He looked out the window, careful to avoid being seen from outside. “A backfire from a badly tuned car. Don’t worry. I work around cars. I know the difference between that and a gunshot.”
Breathing again, she averted her gaze. Ranger was too much of a temptation. It was like looking at hand-churned ice cream with whipped cream on top after a two-month diet. “Go take your shower. It’s not too early to call my principal,” she said, checking her watch. “I’ll need to request an emergency leave of absence.”
As he left the kitchen, Dana dropped back into her chair. She’d very nearly accepted his offer. What in the world had she been thinking? Well, maybe that was the problem. Around him, her brain cells automatically drowned in a sea of hormones.
After getting her leave of absence, Dana went out into the hall, stood there and listened. She could hear Ranger in the shower. Now was her chance. Finding a phone book, she searched for Daniel Runningbear, Hastiin Dííl’s legal, Anglo name. The directory included the Shiprock area, too, but she didn’t find a listing. She had intended on calling the information operator next, but the water had stopped running in the shower.
She sat on the sofa, considering her next move, when something odd struck her. There was nothing personal in the rooms she’d seen. No photos were on the coffee table, bookshelves or the wall, and no letters or mail of any kind had been in the top cabinets or in the drawers she’d searched when she’d looked for the phone book. Although the place was meticulously clean and well cared for, it had all the warmth of a model home.
Curious now, she walked down the hall to check out the rest of the house. The second bedroom had been turned into a study, judging from the desk and the extra bookshelves. Most of the volumes were nonfiction-southwest references covering everything from regional history to plant life. She turned on the small desk lamp and looked around carefully. Like the kitchen and living room, there was nothing in here that spoke of the house’s owner. But she was getting distracted. Her top priority was finding something-anything-that might lead her to Hastiin Dííl.
She sat down at the desk and began to search through each drawer, but all she found were office supplies. Although she’d been careful to search in silence, when she looked up, she was startled to see Ranger standing by the door, watching her. He’d obviously just come from the shower, and was naked except for the towel wrapped low on his hips.
For a moment she couldn’t speak. Her gaze drifted over him slowly and lingered over the gap that revealed everything from his left hip down.
He stepped over within arm’s reach. “See something you like? Nothing to be scared of,” he murmured, his eyes shadowed in the subdued light.
“I was just…” For some crazy reason she couldn’t take her eyes off that gap in the towel.
“Yes, what are you doing?”
Her thinking became totally scrambled and she could have sworn she had a fever. “Hmm?”
“Tell me what you’re looking for and maybe I can help,” he said, his voice smooth and mellow. “You’re all flushed. Something I can do?” he asked, stepping so close she could smell the fresh scent of the soap on his skin.
Her mouth fell slightly open as the towel parted a few more inches.
“You look like a woman who’s ready to be kissed,” he said, pulling her to her feet.
Before she could recover, his mouth was on hers. She’d expected fire and urgency, but his lips were gentle and coaxing, not at all demanding or aggressive. His tenderness melted her resistance.
Trembling in his arms, Dana gave him as much as he wanted to take. No one ever made her feel so wonderfully feminine. She ran her hand over his bare chest, loving the feel of him.
He nibbled her lips, tasting her, prolonging their pleasure. When she sighed, he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, then deepened the kiss.
Need pounded through him. She was ripe for the taking. But he wanted more from her than mindless surrender. He wanted her to know what was happening between them, and choose him freely. Then he’d drive her wild and take everything she offered him. She’d remember what they’d shared then-remember him-for the rest of her days.
That thought stopped him cold. He’d never felt that way in his life. He’d had many women, and he’d enjoyed giving them pleasure and taking it, too. But this…it wasn’t the same. His feelings for Dana…went deeper.
Ranger eased his hold and gazed down on her. “Woman, you’re too tempting for your own good.”
“So are you,” she answered, reluctantly stepping out of his embrace.
He took a step back as well, and turned on the overhead room light. “What were you looking for in here?”
“Oh…just…” She scrambled for an answer. “I was searching for…paper…to write with, you know?”
“I’m aware of what paper’s used for,” he answered.
She saw the dangerous flicker in his eyes. He wasn’t used to being lied to, and didn’t like it one bit. She couldn’t blame him. “A pad of paper, to be precise. I like to keep track of things.”
“Used up all the pages in the notebook you have in your purse, huh? I think I saw a notepad on the shelf beneath the phone in the kitchen. Will that do?”
She nodded. She’d seen it, too, and one look into his coal-black eyes told her he knew it. “But that’s there for a purpose. I didn’t want to take something they were currently using.”
“That’s not a problem,” he said with eyes that sliced through her.
As he walked out, she couldn’t help but take one last look at him. No matter what he was wearing-or almost wearing-he was the stuff dreams were made of.
“There are some clothes in the bedroom closet-for men and women. Whatever’s in there that fits you, you’re welcome to take,” he called out to her as he went back into the bedroom.
“Thanks, I’ll go look once you’re dressed,” she said, opting for caution.
Her reaction to him made no sense at all. She’d met a lot of handsome, intelligent, eligible men over the years, but she’d never felt like this. Whenever Ranger was close her insides would hum with tension and her brain turned to instant mush. This just wasn’t like her, and it had to stop.
Mentally using her best teacher’s voice on herself, she went back into the kitchen and poured herself a cold drink. Dana walked back to the living room, forcing herself to relax, and her thoughts slowly cleared.
Just then he came out of the bedroom, shirtless. “I’m going to crash for a while. Make yourself at home, but stay away from the windows and don’t step outside. If you hear anything unusual, come get me, though I’ll probably hear it before you do. I’m a very light sleeper. And should the phone ring, let me get it. There’s an extension in the bedroom.”
“I’ll keep watch,” she said. “Rest easy.”
Ranger went back into the bedroom and left the door open. While he rested she decided to turn on the small TV set in the living room, sound low, and catch the local morning news. There was coverage on the kidnapping and murder, but nothing new on the investigation.
After twenty minutes she tiptoed down the hall and looked in on Ranger. He was lying on top of the covers, wearing jeans only, and his deep, slow breaths indicated he was asleep.
Returning to the living room, she turned off the TV set and glanced around the room. There was something odd about this house. Maybe it was a safe house police agencies used to keep protected witnesses. It was possible, maybe even likely, that Ranger worked freelance for the tribe whenever they had someone who needed protection. That could have explained the carving on the door frame.
On top of some books stacked horizontally at the end of the bookcase, Dana spotted a laptop computer. Taking it from the shelf, she moved to the coffee table and sat cross-legged on the floor before it. It had a wireless Internet connection, so that meant that the router was somewhere in the house, though she hadn’t seen one yet.
After turning off the speakers, Dana tried to get past the desktop display so she could access programs, but she kept getting a request for a password. She tried the obvious, starting with the word password, the name of the highway outside, the house number, Farmington and FPD, for Farmington Police Department. Nothing worked. The computer remained in the same opening screen. She continued, using terms such as protect and serve, witness, felony, police and police officer. Again nothing.
Dana sat back, rethinking her approach. She was missing something crucial. If this was intended for the use of whomever was scheduled to be at the house-in this case, Ranger Blueeyes-the password would be reset just for them. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed in the name Blueeyes. After a short pause and a faint whirr from the hard drive, a new screen came up with the options to either log on to the Internet or search the files.
She decided to search the text and database files first. She soon discovered that the information seemed to focus on the Navajo tribe and was geared for use by a Navajo police officer.
Fortunately for her, she also wanted to know about Navajos-mostly one in particular, Hastiin Dííl. There were reports on various issues the tribe was facing, but nothing that concerned or pertained to a Hastiin Dííl, or anyone named Daniel Runningbear.
Without another option, she decided to go on the Internet next. She could access more phone book listings from there. Using the phone itself would be too risky now. She logged on and, fortunately for her, the passwords for access had been stored in memory, so she didn’t have to try to guess her way any further.
She started to type out Hastiin Dííl’s Anglo name, then stopped. This software usually stored a record of search words and sites visited, and she didn’t remember how to disable or erase that information. Not wanting to leave a trail, she decided an indirect search was best.
Dana typed out the words Navajo medicine men. Hastiin Sani had been a medicine man, and men in his profession were highly regarded. It stood to reason that his successor in the Brotherhood of Warriors might be a medicine man, too. For all she knew, being a medicine man was one of the requirements for leadership.
Her search was slow and time-consuming, but she kept at it, intent on finding something that would lead her to Hastiin Dííl. She found a wealth of information about medicine men in general, but nothing specific. If there was a listing for medicine men anywhere, like physicians in the phone book, she couldn’t find it.
Dana was about to give up when she found a link to an article about medicine hogans. She went to the site and read the piece, written by an anthropologist, who explained their different construction, like the fact that they were larger than other hogans and had no stovepipe in the center.
She also learned that medicine men usually frequented trading posts in traditionalist areas where their services were in high demand. These trading posts were also known to carry the materials the medicine men needed for the various kinds of Sings.
Unfortunately, this didn’t get her any closer to Hastiin Dííl, though the site’s map clearly delineated the more traditionalist sections of the rez. The problem was that the reservation itself was as large as several eastern states.
Dana sat back, lost in thought. She needed to nail down a smaller search grid. Assuming that the medicine man lived close to the Four Corners, maybe she could start by finding out more about the last Blessingway done in their area. If Hastiin Dííl’s name was mentioned, that might at least confirm that she was right in looking for a Singer.
Such events were often reported in the tribal newspaper. Dana was typing in the name of the newspaper when she heard footsteps down the hall and realized Ranger had woken up.
Moving with lightning speed, she shut down the computer and put it back where she’d found it. Then, spotting a book placed end out farther down on the bookshelf, she pulled it out and ran to the couch.
She was sitting back, pretending to be reading, when he sauntered in.