Rebecca Daniels - Rain Dance

Sheriff Joe Mountain glanced at the woman on the seat beside him. She didn’t need to be conscious to tell him something had happened out there. He might not have lived on the reservation in years, but there was enough Navaho left in him to know something was out of harmony.

Wandering around in rainy weather like this, she had to be half-frozen. Joe reached across the seat, running the backs of his fingers along her cheek. Even against his cold hands, her skin felt like ice. Yet frigid skin and drenched hair couldn’t hide her delicate features. She was a beautiful woman.

How had she ended up in a place like this? The fear he’d seen in her eyes before she’d collapsed was something he would never forget.

“What’s got you so frightened, rain lady? What can I do to help you?”

Dear Reader,

Valentine’s Day is here this month, and what better way to celebrate the spirit of romance than with six fabulous novels from Silhouette Intimate Moments? Kathleen Creighton’s The Awakening of Dr. Brown is one of those emotional tours de force that will stay in your mind and your heart long after you’ve turned the last page. With talent like this, it’s no wonder Kathleen has won so many awards for her writing. Join Ethan Brown and Joanna Dunn on their journey into the heart. You’ll be glad you did.

A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY continues with Someone To Watch Over Her, a suspenseful and sensuous Caribbean adventure by Margaret Watson. Award winner Marie Ferrarella adds another installment to her CHILDFINDERS, INC. miniseries with A Hero in Her Eyes, a real page-turner of a romance. Meet the second of bestselling author Ruth Langan’s THE SULLIVAN SISTERS in Loving Lizbeth—and look forward to third sister Celeste’s appearance next month. Reader favorite Rebecca Daniels is finally back with Rain Dance, a gripping amnesia story. And finally, check out Renegade Father by RaeAnne Thayne, the stirring tale of an irresistible Native American hero and a lady rancher.

All six of this month’s books are guaranteed to keep you turning pages long into the night, so don’t miss a single one. And be sure to come back next month for more of the best and most exciting romantic reading around—right here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.

Enjoy!

Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Senior Editor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

will never forget the first time she read a Silhouette novel. “I was at my sister’s house, sitting by the pool and trying without much success to get interested in the book I’d brought from home. Everything seemed to distract me—the dog, the kids, the seagulls. Finally my sister plucked the book from my hands, told me she was going to give me something I wouldn’t be able to put down and handed me my first Silhouette novel. Guess what? She was right! For that lazy afternoon by her pool, I will forever be grateful.” From that day on, Rebecca has been writing romance novels and loving every minute of it.

Born in the Midwest but raised in Southern California, she now resides in the scenic coastal community of Santa Barbara with her two sons. She loves early morning walks along the beach, bicycling, hiking, an occasional round of golf and hearing from her fans. You can write to Rebecca in care of Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd St., New York, NY 10017.

TYVMFE!—and for the morning crew at Goleta Beach:

the doctor, Richard K., Stony, the car salesman,

and the boys on the pier—from the girls.

Anyone for coffee?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Mesa County Sheriff Joe Mountain slammed down hard on the brakes, locking all four tires on the sturdy four-wheel-drive Jeep vehicle and causing it to careen across the wet pavement to a violent stop. His heart pounded in his chest, reverberating in his ears to blend with the frantic rhythm of the wipers as they furiously moved back and forth across the windshield.

“What the hell?” he murmured aloud, leaning forward in the seat. The wind howled, catching the rain and sending it sheeting across the glass in giant waves. He squinted, trying to make out the image coming toward him on the pavement, but his vision was too blurred, too distorted despite the wipers’ best efforts to clear it.

A wounded animal, he thought, rubbing at the inside of the window with the sleeve of his jacket. A coyote maybe, or a mountain lion—or maybe several of them, judging from the size. His gaze narrowed farther, straining to see. A healthy animal would have taken shelter in higher ground long ago.

His hand automatically reached for a switch, bringing the patrol lights alive on the roof of the car, then for the leather strap of the shotgun holster mounted on the dash of the Jeep. Approaching a wounded animal would be too dangerous, even if he did just want to help it, but a couple of shots fired into the air might frighten it off the road. On the highway it posed a hazard and could cause an accident—like the deadly accident he’d just finished investigating and had brought him out to this desolate part of the county in the first place.

But the hand on the holster strap suddenly froze as the moving figure began to take shape and form—and the form it took wasn’t that of a coyote. The figure emerging out of the darkness of the storm and into the glow of his headlights was decidedly human, and decidedly female.

A woman.

She couldn’t stop shivering, even though she’d stopped feeling her arms and legs long ago. Rendered numb by the bitter wind and rain, she was only vaguely aware of the cold now, and yet she trembled. The fear was still there, still lurking in the blackness that had existed for her before the rain.

She had no idea how long she’d been walking, but it had been long enough to crush the initial panic—panic that had sent her running aimlessly through the desert and screaming at the top of her lungs. At the moment she was more concerned about finding someplace dry, someplace safe, than trying to figure out what had happened and why.

She wouldn’t call it a nightmare; it was far worse than that. It felt more like something out of a dark, depressing novel, something existential and surreal and completely without cause—only if it was, she couldn’t remember now. All she knew for certain was she was alive—she had to be. If death was a void, this was too terrifying for that.

There was nothing empty, nothing vacant in the place she found herself. It was filled with harsh, brutal feelings and cold, unyielding reality. It was more a displacement of her life than a dissolution. She had opened her eyes to a time and a place she didn’t recognize, to a world she didn’t know.

“Stranger in a strange land,” she muttered aloud, the harsh wind catching her words and sending them flying. She stopped walking, something flickering in her brain. There was something vaguely familiar about the phrase, something almost recognizable—the first recognizable thing she’d found in this terrible place. But it was vague, and there only for a moment. Soon the familiarity was gone, blown from her memory like words on the wind.

She started walking again, and trembling. Where was she? How did she get there, and when could she leave? Why could she remember nothing, and what had been there before the void and the blackness?