Monday

Bright rays of early morning sunlight slipped between the blinds to rest annoyingly on Ellie's face. She tried to turn away from, but couldn't escape them. Sitting up, she found a pile of clothes at the end of her bed. It wasn't much; an old faded black t-shirt, and a slightly ripped pair of jeans that were much too baggy for her. To her extreme embarrassment, there were no underwear. Slipping on the garments, she moved slowly out of her room and into the hallway.

There were two other doors aside her own. Down and across a small way was the bathroom. It was simple yet pretty, with a large white lion foot tub at the back and a white porcelain sink and toilet along the wall. A long mirror hung on the wall opposite the sink, and she took time to take in her appearance. She had dark circles under her eyes, and she seemed paler than usual. There was an almost tiny cut on her forehead, probably from the jump, held together by two strips of tape. She ran her fingers self consciously over the scar the peeked out over the collar of her shirt. Great, she thought, now I've got one for my face too.

A hand on her shoulder nearly made her jump through the ceiling. She calmed only a slightly when she saw the Indian beside her.

"Could you maybe let a girl know when you enter a room?" she said, gripping her chest. He was shirtless, and she thought she might have a heart attack. His was utterly sculpted, every square inch of him well toned. She noticed his hair was wet, slicked back away from his face.

Her looked at her with a quizzical look. "Huh, and here I thought I was being loud."

"Yeah..." She turned to face him, holding his eyes only for a few minutes before looking away. "Can I leave now?" she asked.

"Without any shoes?" he inquired, a smile pulling his lips.

"I'll walk. It can't be that far," she countered.

He was grinning now. "Only fifty or so miles until you hit town."

Her eyes were wide. She stomped her foot, defiantly glaring at him. "What do you want with me?"

"I want you to see your worth," he stated simply.

"My worth?" She raised an eyebrow. "And how long will that take?"

"I don't know. A week, a month. However long it takes."

"What is this, chief? Some ancient, Native American wisdom?"

His face became hard. "Please don't mock me or my ancestry again." Shaking his head, he said, "Breakfast is downstairs on the table. Help yourself." Turning on his heel, he left her standing in the bathroom.

She was actually disappointed in herself for what she'd said to him, but she didn't let it show as she followed him into the kitchen. The morning light seemed to make everything in the space glow. It came in through a window over the sink, which was filled with soapy water on one side. In the other two frying pans were drying along with miscellaneous cooking utensils. The cabinets were a warm reddish wood, the counters black granite with specks of white. Off to the side was a large oak table, and at each end were two large plates of steaming scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits. It took less than a second for Ellie to sit down and literally stuff her face. She hadn't eaten in a week, because she'd had neither the desire or the money for it. All to quickly the food disappeared, but she continued nibbling on biscuits covered with apple butter.

Her eyes were on the Indian. She found him mesmerizing, from his dark features to his odd self-sacrificing personality. Her eyes kept going to smooth expanse of his chest, and she always scolded herself for it every time. Jesus! You're such a dirty old lady. Deciding to keep herself busy, she picked up her plate and walked over to the sink. Slipping it into the water, she picked up the sponge before pulling it back out to scrub it. After thoroughly inspecting it, she rinsed it off along with her fork and placed them both in the dish drainer in the other side of the sink. When he was finished with his plate, she also took it from his hands and washed it, ignoring his protests.

"You don't have to wash those," he said.

"I know," she told him. Removing the stopper from the bottom, she let the water drain and rinsed out the sink.

He watched her while she did these small tasks, and smiled to himself. Thinking about a time past, he chuckled to himself. When Ellie turned to look at him and frowned in confusion, he merely shrugged and dropped the smile.

"What is your name?" he asked, coming back to the present.

"Ellie," she said. "Ellie Fitzpatrick."

"Well, my name is Daniel Arcand, but my friends call me Crow," he explained, extending a hand to her. Eyeing it for a minute, she dried hers off before briefly shaking it.

She hesitated, not wanting to offend again, but asked anyway. "Is that your tribe? The Crow?"

He shook his head. "No. Actually, my father was of the Shawnee and my mother was... French and Irish, I believe."

"So you're not...?" She trailed off, not sure how to put it without sounding stupid. Why do you care?

"I'm only half-Native." He turned and walked over to the archway that lead into the tiny foyer. Stopping just under it, he proposed, "Let's go for a walk. You can tell me your reasons for jumping off the cliff."

They went out the back door of the house, and headed down the steep hill the house sat upon. The sky was overcast with large light gray clouds. The air was cool and crisp, bringing the mixed smells of flowers and moss to their noses. The trees were thick, but they navigated easily around them. Soon they arrived at a large creek. From where she stood, Ellie could tell it was deep enough to swim in. It moved lethargically away to spill out into some lake or river farther down.

"It's beautiful out here," she said, eyes following the movement of the water.

"It is. I probably couldn't live anywhere else," he agreed. "So, about you."

"What about me?" She had moved over the edge of the creek, dipping her fingers in the water. Again, he felt a smile pull his lips caused by old memories. She looked so small in his large clothes, her feet swallowed by his huge boots. His heart felt a tug, but he ignored it and again lost the smile.

With a sigh, he moved beside her, taking a seat on the rocks. "You'll only begin to heal when you remove the spear embedded in your heart." When she raised an eyebrow, he explained, "Something my grandfather used to tell me."

"Well, I'm plenty comfortable with my spear, thanks," she said, hoping he would let it go. The icy water slipped through her thin fingers, helping to cool her aggravation. What's with this guy? Why does he have to be so damn nosy?

"You don't have to tell me everything. Just what led you to the cliff." His hand was in the water beside hers now, but she quickly jerked it out when they touched. "I swear I don't bite," he chuckled.

She threw him the stink eye. "Look, Daniel-"

"Crow."

"We're not friends."

"I'd like us to be." He smiled at her, and she looked away.

"Fine!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "Damn it, man..."

A/N: Wow, I definitely wasn't expecting so many reviews on the first chapter. I have the feeling thought that some of you are reviewing over and over again due to impatience. Please, don't. I love reviews, but I don't like being commanded to post. Thanks.