The Doctor's Medicine Woman. Donna Clayton

refusing to be banished. What was it about him that provoked these sensuous notions running through her head? She’d had no trouble whatsoever deflecting the approaches made by other men since her divorce. She’d easily turned down all offers of dates, and she’d done so politely and tactfully so as not to hurt a single living soul. Yet here she was fancying that Travis Westcott—a man she barely knew—was staring at her…desiring her.

      Desiring her? Is that where her thoughts were heading?

      No. No. No. She couldn’t have that. She wouldn’t allow herself to be undermined by her own ridiculous imaginings. Travis had become caught up in her story. That was all—

      “I’m glad to see you’ve made yourself at home.”

      She looked toward the French door that led into the house. His frame was backlit by the soft light being thrown from the kitchen. He looked strong. Safe. Protective.

      Shaking her head slightly, she shoved the impressions from her, but not before she realized this wasn’t the first time she’d been plagued by these same out-of-the-blue reflections. Ridding herself of the fanciful thoughts shouldn’t be very difficult. Especially when she knew that no man would ever make her feel safe and protected.

      “I’m in the habit of drinking some chamomile tea before bed,” she told him, relieved that her voice sounded much less quivery than she felt inside. “So I made myself a pot.”

      His dark head bobbed slightly. “I hope you don’t mind. I helped myself.” He lifted the mug he held in his right hand. “May I join you?”

      “Please.”

      This politeness, this formality, made her feel too awkward for words.

      “Look, Travis, I’m awfully sorry that I’ve been foisted on you like this. I know you see me as an intruder in your home. Especially when, I’m sure, all you’re thinking about is getting to know the boys, letting them get to know you and becoming a family so you can enjoy the Christmas holiday together.”

      He didn’t say anything at first, just sipped his tea, peering at her over the rim of the mug. Finally one of his shoulders lifted a fraction. “This is what’s best for the boys.”

      She couldn’t tell whether or not he believed what he said, but she was fascinated with those eyes of his. Even in the dim light of the porch, his gaze gleamed with some unnameable force, a humming energy she found mesmerizing.

      The apology had been meant to somehow lessen the tenseness in the air. But all their small exchange seemed to accomplish was to make the oxygen denser, harder to breathe. She wanted to say something, to somehow break this awful silence, but it was as if the ability to speak had suddenly been lost to her.

      “So—”

      Not ready for the sound of his satiny voice, Diana actually started.

      “—was it true? The story you told the boys?”

      Nodding, she answered, “Yes, the events I relayed to the boys really happened. Generations ago. Of course, I didn’t go into too much detail. Jared and Josh are young. The simple version of the story is good enough for the time being.”

      “The simple version?” he asked. “There’s more?”

      “Oh, yes. Much more.” She shifted in the seat. “Half Moon didn’t come to the decision to negotiate with the Europeans easily. The Kolheek are proud and stubborn people. He fought first.”

      “As well he should,” Travis said. “The land he lived on belonged to him.”

      Diana slowly shook her head in modest dissent. “No one can really own the earth. But the right to hunt and live on the land was ours.” She paused. “Well,” she lightly amended with a tiny smile, “Half Moon believed the right belonged to The People.”

      Travis nodded, a new understanding—or was that interest?—lighting his eyes.

      “Many men from the tribe, young and old, lost their lives in battle,” she said, “before Half Moon decided to bargain with the Europeans. The wars went on for years. They were bloody. And relentless. It was an awful time in our history.”

      He sat with his feet planted apart, both hands grasping the mug of tea, his elbows resting on his knees. He was utterly silent, his gaze focused. And he was staring directly at her mouth.

      Anxiety churned in her stomach at the realization. Was he hearing a word she said? It seemed as if he were in some sort of trance.

      Ever so slowly, his tongue roved across his bottom lip. The action appeared utterly subliminal. As if he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. She didn’t sense he was trying to flirt with her, but she did recognize that her worst fears were true. When she’d thought he might be feeling something for her, it hadn’t just been her imagination. He was attracted to her. She was sure of that now.

      Panic sent her thoughts into total commotion. She should tell him this instant that she wasn’t interested in any kind of association with him other than the purpose for her being here. Jared and Josh.

      Just be honest with the man. Her grandmother’s wise words echoed through her mind.

      Diana opened her mouth to speak, but then the most extraordinary thing happened. Travis sat up straight. He looked out the window into the cold, snow-coated night. His chest rose and fell with a heaving, seemingly steeling breath. And when he directed his gaze at her again, there was not a single nuance of fascination or temptation or intimate interest expressed in his eyes. It was as if he’d extinguished his feelings like they were a candle flame that could easily be snuffed between a moistened index finger and thumb.