Storming Whitehorn. Christine Scott

the mystery behind his brother’s death had been officially solved, he intended to be on the first plane back to Albuquerque. There was nothing here to keep him in Whitehorn.

      Nothing but a family he’d turned his back on.

      And a niece he did not know.

      Storm set the mug back on the table. He stared at the clouds swirling across its cooling surface, as though searching for a way to soothe his guilt. In the days since he’d returned to Whitehorn, he’d seen Summer a handful of times. Always from a distance, never face-to-face.

      He’d told himself he was waiting for the right moment to approach her. Only that moment had yet to come. Today he’d been just a few feet from finally meeting her. But as was too often the case, when it came to facing up to his personal responsibilities, he’d chosen the easy way out. He’d run.

      Storm closed his eyes and took in a painful breath. For thirty years he’d lived with the thought that his brother had abandoned him. Wounded and betrayed, he’d purposefully distanced himself from the town and the people that had reminded him of his loss.

      But now he knew the truth. Raven had died all those years ago.

      Storm had run out of excuses to hide. His brother was gone for good. But Raven’s daughter was still alive and well. And she was his last link to the only person he’d ever loved.

      With a deep sigh, he opened his eyes. Glancing around the café, he caught the eye of the blond-haired waitress.

      Smiling, she strolled over to his booth. “Did you change your mind about lunch?”

      “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d just like to pay the bill.”

      “That’s too bad,” she said, tearing a page from her receipt book and placing it on the table in front of him. “Fried chicken’s the special today. The cook fixes a mean bird.”

      Storm gave a polite smile. “Thanks, but I’m not really hungry. Maybe you could help me with something, though. I’m looking for someone. Summer Kincaid. Do you know her? Or where I might find her?”

      “Summer? Sure, I know her. She’s a doctor. Your best bet at finding her would be at the Whitehorn Memorial Hospital, or the clinic she runs at the Laughing Horse Reservation. If you can’t find her at either of those two places, she’s probably at home taking care of her baby step daughter, Alyssa. Her number’s in the phone book. Only look under the name Night hawk.” The waitress winked as she turned to leave. “She’s a married lady now.”

      Night hawk. So Summer had married a Cheyenne. Despite being raised by the Kincaids, she’d chosen to live her life with a Native American. He felt vindicated by the thought.

      He knew her name and how to reach her. Now all he needed was the courage to call her.

      Slowly, Jasmine replaced the receiver in its cradle. Frowning, she stared at the phone. Summer had just called. Shortly after Lyle Brooks’s funeral, she’d received an unexpected call from her uncle, Storm Hunter.

      He’d asked to meet with her. Summer had agreed.

      Only, Gavin was busy and unable to be with her. Summer felt the need for family support at this initial meeting with her long lost uncle and had asked Jasmine to join her.

      Jasmine bit her lip. She’d do anything for her cousin, and she’d felt honored that Summer had turned to her in her time of need. As the baby of the family, Jasmine had spent most of her life being taken care of, not caring for others. She’d longed for the chance to prove herself to be mature and responsible in her family’s eyes. Finally she’d been given that chance.

      If only Storm Hunter wasn’t a part of the picture.

      She dreaded the thought of seeing him again. She didn’t know how much more humiliation she could take in one day. Even if he was Summer’s uncle, the man was unforgivably rude.

      “Jasmine, who was on the phone?”

      She looked up to see her mother approaching the front desk. This afternoon Celeste looked more like her old self. A healthy flush colored her cheeks and dressed in a tea-colored tunic and loose-fitting pants, she looked relaxed and at ease for the first time in days. Jasmine hated the idea of disrupting her fleeting moment of peace. “It was Summer,” she admitted.

      “Summer? Is everything all right? The baby isn’t sick, is she?”

      “No, nothing like that…it’s just—” She stopped, struggling to find the right words. Knowing there was no easy way to break the news, she said, “Storm Hunter called. He wants to meet with her.”

      The healthy color drained from Celeste’s face. She sat heavily on a tapestry-covered chair. “Oh, my. I knew it was only a matter of time before he’d seek her out. I suppose there’s no avoiding it.”

      “He is her uncle,” she reminded her mother.

      “I know. Believe me, I know.” Her hands shook as she brushed a strand of russet hair from her face. She took in a deep, cleansing breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth. “I only wish Summer didn’t have to face him alone.”

      “She’s not,” Jasmine said carefully. “I’m going over to her house now. She’s asked me to be with her when he arrives.”

      Her mother surged to her feet. “Absolutely not. I don’t want you anywhere near that man.”

      Jasmine blinked, stunned by the outburst. “Mother, you can’t be serious.”

      “I’m deadly serious. The man’s a Hunter. He belongs to a family that has brought us nothing but heart ache. I forbid you to see him.”

      “You forbid me?” Jasmine’s voice rose in self-righteous indignation. Since she had returned to the B and B and had taken over all of the kitchen duties, her mother had been treating her as an adult, with respect and admiration. Having Celeste now treat her like a strong-willed teenager was devastating to her ego. “Mother, I’m not a child. I’m twenty-three years old. You can’t send me to my room if I don’t want to do what you tell me.”

      “Believe me, if I thought it would do any good, I’d try,” her mother said, releasing an exasperated breath. “When it comes to men, you haven’t paid attention to me in years. Not since you filled out your first training bra.”

      Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Mother, really, would you listen to yourself? Since when have you been distrustful? Storm may be a Hunter, but so is Summer. Are we supposed to abandon her, just because you don’t approve of the other half of her family?”

      Celeste took in a sharp breath, seemingly shocked by the question. “You know I’d never abandon Summer. I’ve raised her since she was just a baby. I love her as much as I love you and Cleo.” She heaved a resigned sigh. “If Summer needs our support, then we will give it to her.”

      Jasmine felt the tension ease from her muscles. Finally, she told herself, they were making progress.

      The thought had no more than surfaced when her mother threw another curve at her self-esteem. With her brow furrowed into a tight frown, Celeste said, “But that doesn’t mean it has to be you, Jasmine. Surely David or Cleo could be with Summer.”

      “Mother,” she said, her tone a warning note. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t suggest that.”

      Jasmine was confused and hurt by her mother’s sudden lack of confidence. She didn’t understand what was wrong. Normally a very liberal, open-minded person, Celeste had raised her daughters to be free-spirited and independent. It wasn’t like her to be so overly protective. But then again, Celeste hadn’t been acting normal since the Hunter family had resurfaced in their lives. Jasmine truly doubted that, if she were to meet anyone but Storm Hunter, her mother would care.

      “Mother, I love you,” she said, struggling to remain calm, “and I will always respect your concern and advice. But this time you’re wrong. Summer needs me. And I’m going to help her, whether