Rider on Fire & When You Call My Name: Rider on Fire / When You Call My Name

Sonora glanced at her father. “Dad?”

He smiled. “You’ll like them.”

She still wasn’t convinced. “So…what are you going to do there?” she asked.

Adam grinned. “Well, I won’t be killing any chickens and slinging the blood about the house or praying to the sun gods today, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Franklin snorted softly, then grinned.

She glared. “You’re making fun of me.”

Adam jammed his hands in his pockets and grinned. Payback was fine. “Yeah, I am,” he drawled.

“Fine! Laugh your head off while I go change my clothes. I smell like fish.”

“Okay, but don’t dress up,” Adam warned. “The Billy family is a fine family, but somewhat distressed when it comes to money.”

“Well, damn, and I had my heart set on wearing the Versace,” she snapped, as she strode out of the room.

Adam figured he’d aggravated the situation even more by telling her what to do. The last thing he heard her say was something about “…making me nuts.”

He frowned, then let go of regret. He had all afternoon to get her in a good mood.

“I’m going to the studio while I have the energy to work,” Franklin said. “It was good to see you. Come back soon.”

Adam grinned. “You know I will.”

Franklin turned to leave, then paused. “I wish you well,” he said softly.

Adam stilled. “Thank you. You honor me with your trust.”

Franklin nodded.

“She doesn’t need my permission to do anything, but I ask only that you don’t hurt her. She’s been hurt far too many times already.”

“I would sooner hurt myself,” Adam promised.

“Then it is done,” Franklin said, and walked away, leaving Adam on his own.

He didn’t quite know how he felt, but he knew he was more than attracted to Sonora. She did things to him—made him feel things that he’d never felt for another woman.

And there was that tattoo. It had to be more than coincidence that a lost child of the Kiowa would choose the sign of her clan purely by accident. Adam was certain that there was more at work here than either he or Franklin first believed, and he didn’t know where he fit in at all. What he did know was that he didn’t want to lose the tenuous connection that they had.

“Is this all right?” Sonora said.

Adam turned around, surprised that she had changed clothes so quickly. She was wearing a pair of clean, but well-worn jeans with a denim shirt hanging loose against her hips. It was sleeveless and nearly white from countless washings, but both the jeans and the shirt were clean and crisp. She’d brushed the tangles out of her hair and left it hanging. It swung against her neck as she walked, teasing Adam with its silky sheen.

“Where’s Dad?” she asked.

“In the studio.”

“Wait. I need to talk to him.” She dashed from the room before Adam could answer.

Franklin was already bent over the worktable when Sonora hurried inside.

“Dad… I need a favor.”

He smiled as he looked up. “After that fine fish dinner…you have but to ask.”

“This little girl that we’re going to see. How old is she?”

“Not sure… Four or five…maybe six. Why?”

“I would like to take her a gift, but I don’t have anything. What would you suggest?”

He looked up, quickly scanning the pieces of the shelves of his studio as he moved toward them.

“How about this?” he asked, and lifted a small carving from the end of a shelf, then put it in the palm of her hand.

“Oh, Dad…it’s perfect. Do you mind?”

He shook his head as he smiled. “Mind? It is my joy to be able to share my work with you.”

She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you again,” she said, then added, “Don’t work too long.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’ve been taking care of myself for years. I can do it for a while longer, I think.”

Sonora frowned as she watched him return to his worktable. What he’d said was an unwanted reminder of the limits with which he was living.

“We’ll be back soon,” she said.

“Take your time,” he said, already immersed in his work.

Sonora dropped the carving into her shirt pocket and then ran back into the living room.

“Okay, I’m back,” she said. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, yeah. I stay ready,” Adam answered.

Words stuck in the back of her throat as her mind went right to the memory of him brown and bare as the day he was born. Despite the knot in her belly, she straightened her shoulders and tossed her hair.

“Shut up, Two Eagles, and just so you know… I’m a black belt in karate.”

“Well, now…isn’t that interesting? I had no idea that we have so much in common.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked.