Breaking Free: A Colorado High Country Crossover Novel, Pamela Clare [i can read book club .TXT] 📗

the Mess Hall and made her way through the dining area to the kitchen, where Kat was cleaning a cast-iron skillet with a paper towel. “The coffee is on. I’ll start on the dishes.”

“There’s really not that much to wash.” Kat set the skillet down, picked up another, wiped it clean.

“Thank goodness for compostable plates and utensils.” Winona filled one of the big, stainless steel sinks, put on a pair of rubber gloves, and settled the big stainless serving pans in the hot, sudsy water.

Winona hadn’t known Kat well until this past summer when they’d all believed that Chaska, Grandpa, and Kat’s husband Gabe had died in the fire. She’d watched Kat muster the emotional strength to comfort Naomi despite her own grief. Winona had the highest respect for her.

They fell into a relaxed conversation while they worked, talking about their families, their jobs, the news from Pine Ridge and Navajoland, Kat’s home.

Then Winona remembered.

She slipped off the rubber gloves. “I forgot to take out more cups and creamer. I’ll be right back.”

She grabbed two more plastic-wrapped packages of cups and a container of powdered creamer and hurried out the door—only to run headlong into a black T-shirt and a very hard body. “Oh! Sorry.”

“No problem.” The man looked down at her through intense brown eyes, his hands on her arms to steady her. “I’m looking for Winona.”

Winona stood there, staring up at him, temporarily speechless.

Aiiii.

He was so … hot.

He spoke with a rez accent and stood at least as tall as Chaska, his dark hair cut short. His black T-shirt stretched over a muscular torso, a tattoo of a maze peeking out from beneath his sleeve on his left shoulder. And his face...

Piercing brown eyes. High, angular cheekbones. A strong jaw. Full lips.

Say something!

“I’m … uh… I’m Winona.”

He stepped back, let his hands fall to his sides. “Naomi said you’d have coffee cups. I can see she was right.”

“Oh. Yes.” Winona tried to open the plastic to give him a single cup but somehow dropped both packages onto the porch.

He bent down, picked them up. “I can take them from here. You can go back to whatever you were doing.”

“Thanks.” She handed him the creamer, too.

“I’m Jason Chiago.” He tucked the cups under one arm, held out his free hand, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

She shook his hand, his fingers warm, his touch seeming to ignite sparks on her skin. “Winona Belcourt. I’m Naomi’s sister-in-law.”

“Jason!” Kat came up behind Winona, stepped outside. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey, Kat. It’s been a while.”

That’s when it clicked.

Heat rose into Winona’s cheeks.

This was that friend. Kat’s Tohono O’odham friend. The Shadow Wolf.

The Shadow Wolves were legendary among Native people and were widely acknowledged as the best trackers in the world.

Great.

She’d certainly made a good first impression.

Fighting the impulse to slink away and crawl under the nearest rock, she stood politely while Kat and Jason spoke. She couldn’t help but notice his broad shoulders. Or the bulge of his biceps. Or the way his jeans rode low on his narrow hips.

No, of course, she wasn’t staring at him. Okay, so maybe she was, but he was standing right in front of her. What else was she supposed to do?

“How long are you staying?” Kat asked.

“I’m not sure—a week or two maybe. I thought I’d lend a hand here and then maybe see some sights.” He glanced over at the group of volunteers, who were dividing into teams. “I should probably get to work.”

“Chiago, you slacker!” Zach McBride called, a grin on his face. “Quit talking to the pretty women and pick up a hammer.”

“You go on. We’ll talk soon.” Kat waved. “Hey, Zach!”

“Nice to meet you, Winona.” Jason walked down the stairs and rejoined the others, leaving Winona to gawk … at his butt.

Holy smokes.

Back in the kitchen, Kat grabbed a dishtowel. “There’s something you should know about Jason. I know he’s good-looking, but, last I heard, he was engaged.”

Given that Winona had just made a fool of herself, the news almost came as a relief. “The good ones always are.”

“That’s it.” Jason held fast to one side of the wall frame, McBride the other, as they raised it and set it in place. “Perfect. Hold it there.”

Grandpa Belcourt took Jason’s end. “I’ve got it.”

Jason dropped to one knee, grabbed his hammer and the framing nails, and fixed the wall frame into position, starting with the ends and then moving toward the center. “One wall frame in place, three more to go.”

Given that the fourth member of their team, a young Cherokee named Adam, was sick from the altitude and resting in his tent, Jason was proud of their progress.

It felt good to do something physical, the sun on his face, fresh air in his lungs, sweat on his skin. More than that, the work got him out of his head, giving him something to focus on besides his screwed-up life—or Winona Belcourt.

Damn.

Okay, so maybe she was still on his mind.

She was beautiful, with long, dark hair, delicate features, and sweet curves that her oversized denim shirt couldn’t conceal. She’d gotten flustered when she’d bumped into him, her embarrassment adorable. He’d felt a strange pull between them when he’d shaken her hand, and he’d seen the flush in her cheeks. She’d felt it, too.

Mutual attraction.

Yeah, well, he needed to shut that down now. He no longer did casual hookups, and he had no interest in starting a relationship. His fellow Wolves told him he’d get over what Elena had done and learn to trust again. Maybe that was true, but he wasn’t there yet. Besides, he had no intention of moving away from Sells and abandoning his people or the O’odham himdag—their way of life.

He knew where he was meant to be.

Jason tested the wall frame with a shake. “Let’s level this, square it, and brace it.”

Grandpa Belcourt pulled a bandana from the pocket of his jeans and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “It looks like my granddaughter