He was unarmed, Heather noted in the first moment of panic, yet he still seemed dangerous. He was watching her silently, his unwavering black eyes holding the intensity of a wild predator.

Her breath trapped in her throat, Heather stood transfixed by those dark, piercing eyes.

His tall, muscular figure sported working clothes, denims and chambray shirt and leather vest, but he was clearly an Indian. He looked a bit savage, with his bronzed skin and untamed raven hair gleaming in the August sun. His hard, striking features possessed the masculine beauty of a granite sculpture, yet there was something familiar about the high carved cheekbones and sharp nose and luminous jet eyes.

He didn’t seem particularly disturbed by the rifle she had aimed at his chest.

“You gonna shoot me, ma’am?” His chiseled mouth curled with more mockery than amusement.

Letting out her breath in relief, Heather lowered the barrel. “No, of course not. But I would advise you not to sneak up on a person unannounced.”

“I knocked at the front door. No one answered.”

“I’m here, as you can see.”

“You’re Sloan’s new wife.”

“I’m Heather McCord, yes.”

“The name’s Logan.”

“Wolf Logan. I suspected as much. You’re Doe’s brother.”

“Half-brother, actually.”

Heather nodded. She had heard a great deal about the Cheyenne half-breed. Mr. Logan lived up in the mountains, working his mining claim. Years ago he’d saved Jake’s life, nursing him back from near-fatal wounds. It was there at the mountain camp that Sloan had first met Sleeping Doe. Indeed, Wolf Logan was no stranger; he was family.

With a polite smile, Heather moved forward, offering her hand for him to shake.

Wolf took it willingly, although one black eyebrow shot up. “You don’t seem afraid of me.”

“Should I be?”

“Some white women run screaming when they see a strange Injun.”

“You resemble Janna—or rather, she resembles you.” Heather looked around, seeking the child out. “I expect you came to see your niece.”

“That, and to meet you. I heard Sloan had married again—a real beauty. I see rumor didn’t lie.”

Heather flushed a little at his compliment, but Wolf turned away easily, crossing over to his niece. Janna grinned and babbled a greeting as he swung her up in his arms.

“Would you care to come inside?” Heather asked when they’d become reacquainted. “I could make tea … or coffee.” She faltered awkwardly, wondering if a Cheyenne preferred an Indian drink of some kind.

Wolf seemed amused by her hesitation. “I drink tea occasionally. I’m not entirely uncivilized. I was raised white.”

“Well, then, may I offer you tea?”

“I hoped you might put me up for the night. Sloan usually invites me to stay here when I pass through.”

“Of course, you’re welcome to stay the night. Sloan is out somewhere on the range, but he should be back in a few hours.”