Navajo protector
Gene Redhouse believes in signs. But when Lori Baker literally jumps into his life, the Navajo wisdom he’s learned disappears. Lori is being stalked and she’s never been so frightened, or so alone. Although it seems they belong to different worlds, the connection between them is instant and intense. And if he can keep her alive long enough, he vows to explore every inch of her....
With his chiseled features and powerful build, Gene is the safe harbor in Lori’s stormy sea. And yet with her past weighing her down, Lori must decide which is more dangerous: the stranger trailing her every step, or the one daring her to trust him.
“I really appreciate what you’re doing. I know I’ve turned your life, and whatever plans you had for your time in Hartley, upside down.”
“You’ve helped me, too,” he said.
She looked at him in surprise. “How? By helping you test your truck’s braking system?”
He laughed, then shook his head. “I’ve had a tough time of it lately. Coping with all the details surrounding a loved one’s death can be overwhelming. You’ve been a welcome, and beautiful, distraction.”
As Lori looked into his dark eyes her heart began beating overtime. For those precious seconds, time stood still. She was aware of the warmth of his body and the spark of desire in his steady gaze.
“You’re a mass of contradictions in one lovely package, Lori Baker,” he whispered.
Power of the Raven
Aimée Thurlo
www.millsandboon.co.uk
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Aimée Thurlo is a nationally known bestselling author. She’s the winner of a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews, a New Mexico Book Award in contemporary fiction and a Willa Cather Award in the same category. Her novels have been published in twenty countries worldwide.
She also cowrites the bestselling Ella Clah mainstream mystery series praised in the New York Times Book Review.
Aimée was born in Havana, Cuba, and lives with her husband of thirty-nine years in Corrales, New Mexico. Her husband, David, was raised on the Navajo Indian Reservation.
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CAST OF CHARACTERS
Gene Redhouse—His ranch and his mystical bond with animals ordered his life until a chance encounter with a woman on the run pushed him into a web of danger.
Lori Baker—Her stalker was relentless. She wanted her old life back, but with danger always just a half step away, there was no way out and no escape from her tormentor.
Duane Hays—The annoying wrangler had offended nearly every man and woman in the county, and he couldn’t keep a job for more than a week. Word was, he’d do anything for money, and now he was in trouble again.
Daniel Hawk—He and Gene had stood back-to-back since their teens, and found safety and family with Hosteen Silver, the medicine man who’d taken them in. Now Dan was prepared to break every rule in the book for his foster brother.
Steve Farmer—The man worked beside Lori at the Motor Vehicle Department, but recently he seemed to have way too many problems with computers and passwords. Was he a con man, or the one being conned?
Bud Harrington—Bud was a jewelry designer and a sleeze ball, and Lori had not only rejected his advances, she’d reported him to the police. Now the authorities were running shorthanded and the time was ripe for payback.
Paul Grayhorse—He was a former U.S. Marshal and Gene’s brother in every way that counted. If Gene and his woman needed his help, he’d be there for both of them, regardless of the cost.
To Marilyn, who always has a smile for everyone.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
Chapter One
There was nothing like death to make you appreciate life. His foster father, Hosteen Silver, hadn’t been gone long, just a little over two months now, but his unexpected passing had reminded Gene Redhouse of just how unpredictable life really was.
Lifting the large bag of sweet feed his horses loved from the back of the truck, he glanced over at Grit. The horse, his foster father’s favorite mount, was prancing around the corral, tossing his head and snorting. He was beautiful, with a graceful arched neck and a strong muscular body. A black-and-white pinto, Grit had a black head with a white blaze down his muzzle. The rest of him, legs included, was white except for the rounded black spots over his body.
“Maybe Hosteen Silver mixed up some of the letters he left for the six of us and I got yours by mistake. That’s the only way things make sense, if you stop to think about it. Otherwise, why pick me to become friends with Grit?” Paul Grayhorse said, shaking his head. “You can communicate with animals in a way that’s nothing short of amazing. If anyone can befriend that surly creature, it’s you.”
Gene glanced at his foster brother, who stood well back looking at the horse. Paul was tall and muscular, but the former U.S. Marshal was still stiff from the bullet that had sliced through his shoulder a few months back while on assignment protecting a federal judge.
“Be grateful he didn’t ask you to climb up the cliff face to Winter Hawk’s nest, like Daniel and I had to do,” Gene said.
Paul nodded slowly. “Yeah.” After a moment of silence, he continued, “When I first came out to the Rez with him, I thought he’d want us to call him by his first name, like the Anglo fosters did, but he explained that Navajos don’t do that. Names have power and weren’t to be used lightly. He said we should call him Hosteen Silver. I had no idea what that meant, and I think that surprised him. That’s when he explained to me that Hosteen meant ‘mister,’ and Silver was the nickname others gave him because of his white hair. He also told me I could call him ‘uncle,’ if I preferred, since it also showed proper respect.”
Gene smiled. “It was the same for Dan and me. To his face, we always called him ‘uncle,’ but now that he’s gone, he remains Hosteen Silver to us.”
“Hey, now that we’re talking about him,” Paul said, “do you have any more ideas why he left that Changing-Bear-Maiden story for us in his safe-deposit box?”
“Not yet, but he did everything for a reason, like with those letters. I guess it’s just another puzzle we’ll have to figure out over time,” Gene said.
Paul shrugged, flinching slightly with the gesture.
Although Paul had insisted on helping him unload the truck, Gene had taken the heavier sacks of feed and grain himself. “If I were you, I’d put off working with Grit awhile longer,” Gene said. “You’re still favoring your shoulder and there was no deadline on what Hosteen Silver asked you to do. Why not put it off until you’re a hundred percent again?”
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