NIGHT WIND'S WOMAN

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  "Yeah. I wouldn't have thought to date outside of my race at that time. I still hated my dad and everything I believed the white world represented." He looked down at his hands, then back up, his eyes still a distant shade of brown. "Tami was the love of my life, my best friend. The person I wanted to spend forever with."

  "Did she feel that way about you, Shane?"

  He shrugged, but not indifferently. The gesture hunched his shoulders, pulling him toward the center of his pain. "I thought she did, but after we got married, I guess the novelty wore off. She went to college, then got a job as a paralegal in this fancy law office, and I was just a high school graduate doing construction work. A disappointment."

  Kelly wanted to console him, draw his head to her breast and encourage him to forget. But there was more to be said, she realized, much more.

  She gentled her tone, keeping her voice quiet. "Tell me the rest."

  "Three years after we were married, Tami found out she was pregnant. I thought it was the best thing that could have happened to us. I was so sure the baby would make us a true family."

  When Shane took Kelly's hand, she knew his pain had come full circle. His grip was shaky, almost desperate. This was how she fit into his past. Something had gone wrong while his wife was pregnant. "This is the difficult part, isn't it?"

  "The beginning of it, yeah." He expelled a rough breath. "We went on with our lives, preparing for the baby – discussing names, decorating the nursery. But toward the end of her pregnancy, Tami broke down and told me the baby might not be mine. She'd had an affair with this out-of-town attorney. Some hotshot white guy, and she didn't know which one of us was the father."

  Kelly kept his hand in hers. How could Tami have been with someone else when she had Shane? How could she have destroyed a beautiful young man? Saddled him with despair?

  "I can't even describe how I felt," Shane went on. "When I wasn't envisioning Tami in bed with her lover, I was fighting the notion that the baby in her womb might be his." He tightened his fingers around Kelly's. "It wasn't right. I'd been a part of everything – the morning sickness, the doctor visits, the ultrasound." He glanced down at Kelly's tummy. "I felt the baby move for the first time. And I bought all those soft, fluffy toys and assembled the crib. I was the father, not him."

  A soul-piercing image came to Kelly's mind. Shane alone in the newly decorated nursery, an animated mobile turning above an empty crib. His head in his hands, his heart hovering over the infant's bed. "You forgave Tami, didn't you?"

  "I had to," he answered. "Her affair was over, and we were bringing a child into the world."

  He was so honorable, she thought. A valiant husband, a dedicated father.

  Shane met her gaze, looking as though he'd just read her mind. "It wasn't easy, not any of it. We spent the next few months in counseling trying to repair the damage. I told Tami that she had to think of the baby as mine. I made her promise that she would never ask me to take a paternity test to determine otherwise, and that she would never contact the other man for any reason."

  Kelly remained quiet, giving her companion time to rein his emotions. She could see them in his eyes – those alluring, catlike eyes.

  "We had a boy," he said finally. "Evan Tyler. The perfect little ona."

  She tilted her head. "Ona?"

  "Baby," he clarified. "The perfect little Comanche. God, I loved him. I used to go into his room and just stare at him for hours. Watch his chest rise and fall, listen to him breathe. He had Tami's eyes, dark and kind of almond shaped, and he had my—" Shane paused, his voice turning distant and sad. "I thought he had my hair, the color and the texture, but…"

  He released Kelly's hand and clenched his fist, a tightness that matched his voice. "When Evan was six months old, Tami heard from her old lover. He was opening a practice in our hometown and wanted to see her again."

  "She went to him, didn't she?"

  "Yes."

  "What about Evan?"

  "The baby turned out to be his."

  A small breeze, the first stirring of wind, rustled leaves on a nearby tree. The branches reached out like arms, drooping, clawing their way to the earth. To Kelly, the image seemed fitting. Someone had stolen what belonged to Shane, torn and clawed and ripped at his heart.

  "You took a paternity test?" she asked quietly.

  "Yes," he answered again.

  He had taken it, but not without defiance, she realized. He had struggled to keep his son. And probably his wife, too. "Are they together now?"

  He nodded. "Tami divorced me and married him." He gazed up at the tree, at its haunting branches. "I lost everything. Even visitation rights. I haven't seen Evan in over five years. They told me I had no place in his life."

  Kelly closed her eyes. Battling a successful attorney for custody of a child who wasn't biologically his must have been a nightmarish ordeal. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "So sorry."

  "I am, too."

  As another small breeze brushed by, she felt him watching her. She opened her eyes and saw a glint of gold in his. Just a glint.

  Unable to stop herself, she touched his face – the strong, smooth jaw, the high ridge of his cheekbones, the lashes that framed those exotic eyes. When she slid her fingers into his hair, he moved even closer, just a heartbeat away.

  His lips touched hers, lightly, ever so lightly. She wanted to taste him, give and take comfort, wrap herself in his warmth. She followed the length of his hair, encouraging the strands to flow through her fingers.

  She opened her mouth under his and felt herself slipping, drifting on a wave. The tips of their tongues met, a solace they both needed.

  He pulled back to look at her, and when their eyes connected, he smiled.

  "Motherhood is beautiful," he said, his voice a husky whisper. "You're beautiful."

  A response didn't seem necessary, not now, not while he lowered his head to nuzzle her neck. He could have been a cat – a strong, sensual creature – sleek and lean with a hint of auburn running through his hair and flecks of gold shining in his eyes. He was beautiful, too. This man who had lost the child he'd loved.

  Kelly brought his hand to her tummy and felt the baby stir in welcome. Before she went home, she wanted to share her child with him, if only for a few brief moments.

  Shane lifted his head. "I'm going to miss you."

  "I know. Me, too."

  She placed her hands on his shoulders, and while he splayed his fingers over her stomach, she renewed their kiss. A kiss caught between friendship and sensuality – an emotion neither would allow themselves to analyze. She would be gone soon, and then it wouldn't matter.

  * * *

  Three days later Shane accepted a steaming mug of tea from Kelly. She didn't drink coffee, but she kept plenty of decaffeinated tea on hand, he noticed.

  Averting his gaze, Kelly sipped from her mug. "Have a seat, Shane."

  He backed into the barrel chair, feeling like a nuisance. Since the storm had blown in, he stopped by the cabin daily, mooching tea and dripping water all over her hardwood floors.

  "Are you sure you don't want to stay with my dad and me?" he asked. "I hate the idea of you being out here all by yourself in this weather. The roads are a mess. They never really got the chance to dry out from last time."

  "Thank you, but I'll be fine," she responded. "I don't plan on going anywhere. I have plenty of reading material, and the fridge is stocked."

  Shane shifted his feet. He wished he had access to Zuni to use as a bribe, but the serval kitten had gone home to her rightful owner. He couldn't very well claim that Zuni needed her, so he tried another tactic. "Is your heater working okay?"

  She sat on the edge of the sofa, wearing one of her floral maternity dresses. This one bore a hint of lace. "Yes. The propane tank is full. The realtor took care of it, remember?"

  "Oh, yeah." They still hadn't made eye contact, at least not for an extended period of time. It was that kiss, he decided, that had them both feeling so damn awkward.
He turned toward the window. The shutters were open, exposing the rain. Pellets hit the glass like hail. "It's really coming down hard."

  She followed the line of his sight. "Hasn't let up for days."

  Shane nodded. It had been days since he'd touched her lips, too. Three long, lonely days. He wondered what she would do if he initiated another kiss. One, moist flavorful taste.

  He tried to catch Kelly's gaze, but noticed she appeared absorbed with the rain. Maybe kissing again wasn't such a good idea. Their friendship seemed to be suffering because of it. They had confided in each other, revealed their deepest pain, and now they couldn't get past the weather.

  "What sort of stuff do you have to read?" he asked, hoping to resume a semblance of comfort between them. He didn't want to leave just yet. He wanted to be near her a while longer. She was going home on Friday, leaving his tiny corner of the world.

  Kelly set her tea on a nearby table and picked up a paperback. "Suspense."

  Shane felt like an idiot. If the novel had been any more obvious, he would have been the one reading it.

  "I have those baby-care books, too," she added.

  As he recalled the fullness of her tummy beneath his hands, his heartbeat skipped. "How is the little ona?"

  A smile drifted across her face. "Fine. Restless, actually."

  "Really?" He wanted permission to touch her again, encouragement like she'd given him on the day they'd kissed. He wanted to feel the baby move, feel it greet him with a hearty kick.

  But she didn't offer, so he didn't ask. He sat in the barrel chair, still wearing his coat, his tea losing warmth, their gazes never quite meeting.

  A clock could have ticked between them – one of those tall, antique timepieces that reminded people how quiet their home was. Or how uncomfortable their guest was making them.

  Shane gave in to his urge to stare, study her carefully in the silence. Suddenly concerned, he scooted to the edge of his chair. Pale shadows worried her eyes, a lavender hue that made her appear frailer than usual. Even her freckles had faded a little, her cheeks lacking their usual glow. "Are you feeling all right?"

  She tucked a loose stand of hair behind her ear. Most of it had been secured with a metal clip, but a few flyaway pieces rebelled from the confinement. "Truthfully, I am a bit tired."

  He knew he'd overstayed his welcome. Kelly needed her rest. He supposed the pregnancy took its toll, not to mention her personal concerns. Jason still hadn't returned to Ohio. No response had been made regarding her request for a paternity test. But court procedures didn't happen overnight, and there was still time. A test couldn't be conducted until the baby was born.

  He rose to his feet. "I better get going. Promise you'll rest, okay?"

  "I will." The proper hostess, she relieved him of the lukewarm tea and set the sturdy mug beside hers. "Let me walk you out."

  She opened the door, and together they stepped onto the porch. A powerful wind blew the driving rain toward them, just close enough to feel the damp chill.

  Her driveway was already packed with mud, the landscape pooling with water. "Another day like this and the roads might flood," he said in a last-ditch attempt to convince her to come home with him.

  "I don't plan on traveling," she responded. "Besides I'm from Ohio, remember? I'm used to all sorts of weather. I'll be fine." She brushed his shoulder. "You worry too much."

  "I suppose." He brought his hand to her cheek. "I'll call you tomorrow."

  Her eyelids fluttered, a reaction, he thought, to his touch. A reminder of their kiss and how good it had felt. They stood a little awkwardly then. He wanted to hug her, but drew back instead.

  "Go inside before you catch cold," he told her.

  "Okay." She nodded and turned. "Bye, Shane."

  "Bye." He stood watching her, wishing her fragility didn't make him ache. Despite her brave front, Kelly looked lost. A delicate young woman in need of protection.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  «^»

  Kelly closed the door behind her. She was beyond tired. Exhaustion weighted her weary bones. She headed for the bedroom and opened the dresser, searching for a nightgown. She would shower, then sleep off her fatigue.

  Facing Shane these past few days hadn't been easy. Whenever she saw him, she wanted to snuggle in his arms. Absorb his strength. Kiss him again. And it was wrong, she thought, to want those things. Wrong to prey on Shane's emotions. Two weeks in Texas hadn't given her the right to need him. Not when she carried Jason's child.

  "I'm sorry, Shane," she said aloud, "for confusing your life. For making you think about Evan. For making you miss him all over again."

  Regardless of the storm, she couldn't possibly stay at his house. Shane had given her enough of himself. And what had she given him?

  She turned on the shower. Problems. She had given Shane her problems.

  Kelly let the warm water sluice over her. Friday was three days away. She would be home in three days. And when would Jason be home? When would he return to face her? Soon, she hoped. Because once Jason acknowledged her concerns, kissing Shane would be a distant memory. He would be her long-distance friend. A phone call instead of flesh and blood, his masculine beauty unattainable.

  Kelly glanced at her reflection in the foggy mirror. A lonely woman stared back at her. God help her. She missed him already.

  Turning away from the mirror, she dried hastily, then slipped on her nightgown. Next she entered the dimly lit bedroom and climbed under the covers, sleep taking hold.

  Hours later she awakened to use the bathroom. On her way back to bed, she squinted at the clock. 2:00 a.m. The rain hadn't let up; she could hear it pounding against the cabin.

  Hugging herself, she glanced out the window. Tree branches loomed, the howling winds forcing them against the glass. Just the stuff horror movies were made of, she thought with a sudden chill. A girl alone in an isolated cabin, ghastly shapes forming outside her window.

  Bounding off the bed, Kelly latched the shutters. She knew better than to let her imagination run amok. But even so, going back to sleep seemed out of the question. Maybe she should draw for a while, create new images in her mind. She could sketch another likeness of Puma, maybe—

  Kelly gasped. A cramp clenched her stomach, sending her entire body into a tight ball.

  Wide-eyed, she looked up at the window. A girl alone in an isolated cabin…

  The shutters remained closed. There were no ghastly shapes haunting the glass, only pain, a terrible pain.

  The baby.

  No! She shook her head as the cramp subsided. Fear. Indigestion. Anything but the baby. It was too soon.

  Climbing back into bed, she glanced at the phone on the nightstand. Without a second thought, she lifted the receiver.

  Shane would be there in an instant. He would know what to do, he always—

  Kelly's pounding heart lurched.

  Silence.

  No dial tone greeted her. The phone line was dead.

  She tried again. Then again, punching buttons, tapping the receiver, willing it to work. She released a choppy breath, unshed tears burning the back of her eyes. Not a spark. Not the slightest sign of life.

  She should have gone with him. She should have listened to Shane. With a shaky hand, Kelly placed the phone back on its cradle. She could go now. She could drive to his house.

  Another day like this and the roads might flood.

  Shane's words flew into her head like a warning. A pregnant woman alone on a washed-out road? Could she take that chance? Her rental vehicle wasn't a four-wheel-drive. What if it got stuck in the mud? Then where would she be?

  Kelly remained in bed, rocking herself for comfort, the torrid sound of the rain an eerie companion. Once daylight surfaced, she would feel better. One severe cramp meant nothing in the scheme of things. A false labor pain. She gazed around the cabin, her eyes settling momentarily on the inactive phone. Her baby wasn't ready to come into the world. Not now. Not on the heels of a sto
rm.

  But as a burst of lightning flashed through the slats on the shutters, Kelly closed her eyes and prayed. Morning was a long way off.

  * * *

  Shane adjusted the hood on a yellow slicker, protecting his face from the downpour. His volunteers knew better than to show up at the rescue this morning, especially since he had refused their services during the last hard rain. He only had two volunteers, one, a biology major, interested in wildlife research; the other, a cat enthusiast, hoping to work as a trainer someday. Neither had gone beyond the stage of cleaning cages, but both proved themselves invaluable. But not today. On this turbulent morning, Shane would take full responsibility for the animals. The young men who volunteered their time didn't deserve to be caught up in this weather, fighting hazardous roads.

  As he strode across familiar pathways, his rubber boots sank into the mud, making each step thick and cumbersome. Thank goodness the rescue sat on a hill, keeping the habitats free from water damage. The cats would take shelter if they so desired, surviving on instinct. Food, of course, was another matter. Meals had to be provided, come rain or shine.

  A crack of thunder ripped through the heavens, giving Shane a start. He blew a windy breath. How in God's name was Kelly going to get to the airport on Friday? If the storm continued as predicted, the roads would be washed out by then, a gully of nothing but water. Didn't she realize how primitive Duarte was? Damn it. Shane grabbed the front of his jacket as a strong gust threatened to pull it open. Why hadn't he insisted that she stay with him?

  Well, he sure as hell would today. He'd call her as soon as his work was done. And he'd demand a postponement of her trip, too. He wouldn't allow her to leave until the storm passed. This weather wasn't safe.

  Shane sighed. At least it wasn't a twister, one of those run-for-the-storm-cellar tornadoes Mother Earth raged upon Texas. As long as Kelly remained indoors, she would be fine. She was probably curled up in bed with a book, sipping that berry tea she liked so well, refreshed from a much-needed sleep.