Out of the Storm (Buckhorn, Montana #1) - B.J. Daniels Page 0,21

a hammer and a chisel before moving to where he’d been working yesterday. “You’re not bothering me.”

Again she heard how wrong his voice was. There was a roughness to it that hadn’t been there before.

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” she said as a cold gust blew snow in behind her, and she realized that she’d left the door ajar. She turned to close it and then, getting up her courage, stepped farther into the shop. Her heart hammered with each step, but she had to get close enough to look into his eyes. From a distance they appeared to be brown, but she had to see them up close to know for certain.

He had gone to work on the board lying on his workbench as if she wasn’t there. She watched him, studying first his profile, trying to see Danny, trying not to see him. The man’s hair was brown and longer than Danny had ever worn his. It curled at the nape of his neck. She fought the urge to touch it, remembering the feel of his hair in her fingers. She felt desperate for him to look at her so she could meet his gaze and finish this.

There was a wariness about him as she stepped closer. She thought about what Bessie had told her. He liked to keep to himself.

“I didn’t mean to scare you yesterday,” she said quietly.

He’d been easing wafer-thin pieces of wood from the board with his chisel and hammer. She saw his hands and felt a hard tug at her heart. His fingers were long and beautiful. Danny’s mother always said he had the hands of a classical pianist, not a laborer. “Too bad I’m tone-deaf, huh?” he’d joked. She remembered those hands on her body, the tender way he’d touched her, the way he’d made her body sing.

“Your hands,” she said and swallowed the rest of the words as he slowly put down the chisel. She cleared her voice. “You have nice hands. Ever play the piano?”

He turned then to look at her. She was close enough that the ambient light from the lamp caught on his face, giving her the first good look she’d had of him. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she feared she would black out again.

His face was so familiar and yet different enough to force doubt into the heady excitement that had her pulse thrumming. She felt a start as she saw that a portion of his face and neck had been scarred as if burned. Her skin felt hot, her heart knocked in her chest.

Danny.

His features had changed from the boy she’d loved into those of a man.

But nothing could change his eyes. Soft sable brown.

It felt as if this shop was a time machine and she was now whizzing back through the years as she looked at her husband. After the explosion, she’d lain in bed, crying herself quietly to sleep at night so as to not disturb the babies. She would pray for just one thing. Please God, just let me see him again.

Her whole body was trembling now. “You...you look like someone I used to know.” Her voice came out a hoarse whisper.

He said nothing, his face expressionless except for his eyes. There was confusion there as well as kindness.

She didn’t know what to say, either. Clearly she was making them both uncomfortable. But in his eyes, she saw the truth. Yes, he’d changed, but those eyes, they couldn’t lie. Just like his hands. Just like the feeling she’d had the moment she’d seen him... Jon Harper was Danny. Different, yes. His voice and other things about him. But she wasn’t wrong this time.

“You’re so much like him,” she said, her words gushing out. She looked into those familiar brown eyes and felt a jolt.

While in all that warm sable brown she saw kindness, there was no recognition. None. She reminded herself that he wouldn’t know her if she was right about him coming out of the explosion with no memory.

“His name was Daniel Jackson. He was my husband,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion but she had to get the words out. “I was told almost twenty years ago that Danny died, but I’ve never believed it in my heart. You look so much like him.” Her voice broke into a sob.

He shifted on his feet, his eyes also shifting away. “I’m sorry for your loss.” When he did meet her gaze again, she saw