"Chicken!" Annie said.

"Luke was more than I could handle," Shelby admitted with a sigh. "But, boy, am I glad I took on the challenge! Lilly, Clay is so exotic, so beautiful. You must be tempted."

It was fun to blush, to tell dark jokes about wild sex with one of those hot, irresistible, Native men. "Seriously, it's really been a long, long time," Lilly declared, and it was the understatement of the century.

"Bet it comes right back to you," Annie said. "Just like the riding has."

Then Shelby was asking her about her riding history.

"My grandfather had me on a horse when I was barely walking. I could master a thousand-pound animal by the time I was ten, and when I was twelve, there wasn't a horse on the reservation I couldn't ride. Our neighbors took all the little girls on trail rides into the mountains and canyons. We slept on the ground, under an endless black sky sprinkled with a million stars and it made me feel connected to the entire earth. By the time I started junior high, my confidence was at a peak. Once we moved here, moved away from the horses and riding, I struggled to find anything that made me feel passionate. I didn't realize how much it would have helped to keep up with the riding. I didn't know until very recently that I need that in my life.

"Annie's invited me to work part-time at the stable. I'll make a little money if there are plenty of riding students, but mostly I'll get to keep Blue and board her at a discount. Annie and I were talking about doing trail rides for groups of girls--nothing gives a young girl a sense of power like taming a beast, like proving she's capable of doing it on her own, without a parent's guiding hand. You can't imagine, their grades in school even go up when they've mastered certain equestrian accomplishments, when they've camped in the wilds with just their horses and wits. I can't wait to do it again! I can't wait to take care of my own horse and have her depend on me while I depend on her. I can't wait to teach it to girls--even very little girls!

"Of course, this will put me in very close company with the very Navajo man I've been trying to avoid...."

Annie and Shelby were quiet for a very long moment before they both burst out laughing. Then Annie said, "Give it up! You're a goner." And all three of them laughed some more.

Lilly accepted an invitation to the Toopeek household for dinner with Clay's family just a few days later. It was a very big step for her. Since moving to California she'd been distancing herself from the whole Native community. But curiosity drove her because she'd grown so fond of Clay. She couldn't help wondering what his people were like.

She hadn't been at their table for fifteen minutes before she knew, as if she hadn't known before, that her future was irrevocably changed. Or changed back.

"You'll starve, eating that way," old Lincoln Toopeek had said.

"Let her eat what she likes," Ursula counseled. "She doesn't look like she's starving by any means. In fact, I might ask her about her diet. But not until after pie."

"You should taste the pork loin," Clay said. "It's out of this world."

"I'm a vegetarian," she explained under her breath.

"Well, that explains the mushroom sandwich. Okay, if it works for you," Clay said, putting a very large, juicy slab of meat on his plate.

"Those Hopi," Lincoln Toopeek said. "They have strange eating habits."

"My grandfather is a well established carnivore!" Lilly told him. "He sells feed to ranchers for cattle and sheep!"

The entire family--adults and children--laughed as the stone-faced, serious Lincoln was taken aback. He didn't appear offended, just surprised. After all, he clearly believed he was right.

"Please, Lincoln, don't start on her," Ursula said. Then, turning to Lilly, she said, "He's equally critical of the Navajo. He's Cherokee and God knows only the Cherokee know anything!"

"I hope pie is on your diet," Clay leaned over and said in a stage whisper. "You wouldn't want to miss it."

Family. Community. Camaraderie. Her grandfather had not been able to draw her back to the Native community the way this family had in fifteen minutes. She realized immediately, she had to risk letting them in. Letting him in.

She needed to be a part of something again, a community that understood her and whom she understood--tradition tugged at her.

By mid-September, Dr. Nathaniel Jensen's new clinic and barn had opened for business. Lilly and Yaz were both there for the opening celebration, as were a number of folks from the nearby towns. The Jensen Stables were located down the mountain from Virgin River and somewhere between there and Grace Valley. Horse owners from all over who relied on Nate's skills were all present, as were the owners of other livestock from near and far. Lilly helped Annie put plentiful food and drink out on a long trestle table that had been set up between the house and barn and watched with interest as Clay approached almost everyone who arrived, either greeting them or introducing himself to them. She spent some time helping Clay and Gabe saddle the Jensen horses for those who'd like a ride--something especially the children present took advantage of. Blue was exceptionally good with a young rider and it gave Lilly such pleasure to be the one leading her around.

To her surprise, Clay had invited the entire Toopeek family. Late in the afternoon he sidled close to her and pointed with his glass of lemonade at Yaz and Lincoln Toopeek, locked in a conversation that seemed to involve few words, bonding. Or arguing.

"See that?" Clay said. "That's pretty much how my father and your grandfather will look when they meet--standing nose to nose and yet a hundred miles apart."

"Do you think they'll meet?" she asked.

"I'm counting on it," he said.

Her world was going to get larger and she knew it.

When Lilly delivered feed on Thursday afternoon, she found Clay waiting for her. "I'm planning to watch my son play football tonight," he said. "Would you like to come with me?"

"I wish I could," she said sincerely. She was crazy about Gabe. "I have a commitment."

"That boyfriend?" he asked with a smile.

"No," she said, laughing. "I promised to help with a yoga class--it's a little extra money, which I need for Blue."

"Well, tomorrow night Gabe has plans with his friends and, you and I, we should spend an evening together. Not with the Toopeek family, but just the two of us, so we can talk. And not just about horses. Let me take you to dinner or something," he said.

"I can't," she answered. "I have plans."

"The boyfriend?" he asked.

"With a very close friend, and these plans were made a while ago. Sorry."

"Cancel," he urged.

"I can't this time. Maybe another time."

Friday was an extremely busy day for Lilly and for that she was grateful. She did in fact have plans with Dane--they were going out for a movie and a bite to eat. Of course, not only would Dane be completely fine with a cancellation, he'd probably cheer. He had been urging her to take the dating game seriously for years. But the fact was, a man who made that very idea tempting had just barely come along and she was moving as quickly as she could. She just wasn't quite ready for the intimacy she knew was coming; she was serious when she'd told Annie and Shelby it had been a very long time.

She was getting closer to taking that step, however. Much closer. Thinking about it caused her to tremble.

Sometimes, if she could ignore the trembling, if she closed her eyes and was honest with herself, she could admit that since Clay had entered her life she'd hungered for the intensity of a night alone with him. She needed to be held, to be kissed, to be loved. And while his very power intimidated her, she didn't want anything less.

Dane finally knocked on her front door on Friday evening and she was so glad to see him. He was so good for her; he propped her up when she was down, laughed with her when she needed to laugh, never failed to be there for her. And as always, seeing him filled her with a feeling of affection. She smiled brightly.

But her smile quickly faded. He looked awful. "My gosh, what's wrong?"

Dane put up a hand as if to ward her off. "Don't get too close, Lilly," he said. "I thought I could ignore this, but I'm coming down with something. I feel terrible."

She took a couple of steps toward him, frowning. His handsome face was in a grimace, his eyebrows furrowed. "What in the world is the matter?"

"It started out as a headache and a tickle in my throat. I thought a couple of aspirin and a good gargle would do the trick, but on the way over here it got way worse. Hit me like a ton of bricks. The tickle turned into razor blades, my head is clogged and pounding, I have a cough, my body aches. I think I have a fever."

"Oh, Dane, lie down on the sofa. Take your shoes off. I'll make you a strong broth, some green tea, dose you up with an anti--"

"I need to go home, honey," he said. "I need my bed and I don't want to give it to you. It could be the flu."

"I'll take my chances, Dane. I have a strong constitution--I never get sick. Let me do something to make you feel better."

"You better knock on wood. This could be that ugly virus going around. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Oh, Dane, I really needed to--" To what? Talk more about her crush on Clay? The crush Dane kept telling her to make a move on? Oh, he must be so sick of her by now.

"We'll do something later this week or next weekend. Ugh. I gotta go to bed...."

"I'm so sorry, Dane," she said.

He nodded, blew her a kiss and left her little house, the screen door shutting behind him as she stood at the open interior door.

"Crap," she said aloud, watching him go.

She'd dressed up for her evening with Dane; she wore a cinnamon-colored silk blouse, beige dress pants, gold belt, low heels...but the evening was off. She went to her bedroom to change. She tossed her clothes in the chair that sat in the corner and found herself some comfy yoga togs.

Back in the living room, she sat on the floor to pick through her CDs. The early fall weather was so beautiful; she enjoyed an early evening breeze coming in the screen door. She put on some music, cranked it up real loud, and went to the kitchen to forage for food. She pulled out some vegetables and cheese; she'd make herself a big, fluffy salad and a whole wheat macaroni and cheese dish topped with a little tomato puree and black olives. She had the water for the noodles on the fire, some of the veggies sliced and was starting to feel like herself again when suddenly the volume of the music went down.

She whirled around. There, in her very small living room, stood Clay. He put up his hands and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. You obviously couldn't hear me knock or ring the bell. If the door had been closed, I wouldn't have walked in, but it was only the screen door, unlocked."

She leaned against the sink, her heart hammering from the surprise. He was looking a bit different tonight; he wore navy blue slacks, low leather boots and a white long-sleeved shirt, sleeves rolled up and neck open. He held a sack in the crook of one arm. "What are you doing here?"

He looked around, then looked her up and down. "You don't look like you're going out. You said you had plans and I thought--"

"I'm staying in tonight."

Clay craned his neck. "Where's the boyfriend? What's his name?"

She couldn't help but smile at him. He was at least as much a brat as Streak. "He's sick. Coming down with something so he canceled. Now, why are you here?"

He took a step toward the kitchen. He smiled. "I wanted to meet him. At least get a look at him, see what I'm up against." He shrugged. "Maybe we could be friends, me and the boyfriend."

She laughed at him in spite of herself. "Well, that takes balls," she said. "Why don't we do this--when I feel like introducing the two of you, I'll let you know. And since you aren't going to get a look at him..."

"I brought something. Root beer." He tilted his head at her. "Was I out of line? Dropping in this way?"

"Absolutely!" she said, her blue eyes widening. "How'd you know where I lived?"

"Annie. And by the way, she'd never heard about this boyfriend, which I find curious."

"Maybe I don't tell everyone about him," she said. "But--your apology is accepted."

"I'm not sure if I'm sorry yet--since I ended up saving you from what appears to be a very boring night."

"You should have called ahead, though. You walked right in my house! Now, would I walk right in your house?"

"I believe you have--and I was na**d. Besides, I did knock," he said with another shrug.

She couldn't argue that--she'd gone into his quarters at the stable without being invited. He looked huge standing there in her small living room--so big, so bronze, his eyes so penetrating, his teeth so white. He looked more like a monument in her little house than he did at the stable with a great big stallion as a backdrop.

"What's with this music?" he asked. "What are you listening to?"

She sighed and just shook her head. "Don't you like music?"

"Of course. I like Country."

"Well, this is a slightly more sophisticated version of 'my girl left me and my dog died.' It's called opera. And I like it."

"Do you understand it?" he asked.

"The language? No, I don't speak Italian. But I get what it's about." She put down her knife and walked the few steps into the living room. "This is Bocelli singing Puccini. La boheme. I like it loud. Would you like some of my salad and noodles and cheese? Since you've so rudely made yourself available?"