CHEROKEE STRANGER

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  She sat back to study him, not quite sure what to say. His golden hair blew in the breeze and freckles danced across his twitching nose. "Why did you call Suzy Leery stupid?"

  He made a pained face. "'Cause she likes me."

  "The way girls like boys?"

  "Uh-huh. It's stupid."

  "Not when you get older. It's nice when you get older." Nice? She reached for a daisy from her mother's bouquet and thought about James, about how much the future frightened her. "The next time you see Suzy, you have to tell her you're sorry."

  Corey squirmed like the kid he was. "What about the toilets? Do I gotta tell them I'm sorry, too?"

  She shook her head, and suddenly they both burst out laughing. And at that silly, childlike moment, she knew her parents were laughing, too.

  "Are you ready to go?" she asked, after a few minutes of silence.

  He nodded and got to his feet. As they cut across the lawn, he glanced at the flower in her hand. "What are you gonna do with that?"

  She adjusted the daisy. "Give it to Lily Mae."

  "The lady James works for?"

  "That's right."

  "Are you gonna see James, too?"

  "No, not today." She knew he would keep his distance. "Lily Mae and I are going on a picnic."

  "Be careful in the sun, Emmy."

  Touched by his concern, she ruffled his hair. "I'm wearing my lotion. And I have a hat in the car, too. Besides, we're going to try to stay in the shade."

  "Me and Steven are helping his mom bake cookies today. She thinks you and James should get married. I think so, too. And so does Steven. We want to wear those bow-tie suits and eat cake and stuff."

  Her heart pole-vaulted to her throat. "Is that the only reason you think James and I should get married?"

  "No." He reached for a fallen leaf on the ground and kept walking. "I'd like to have him as my dad. Or my brother. Or—" Puzzled, he stalled. "What would he be if you married him?"

  My husband, she thought. My lifelong partner. The man the West Coast Family wanted to kill. Dear God, she thought. How could she stay with him? How could she subject herself to that kind of pain?

  Emily ignored Corey's question and dropped him off for his cookie-baking activity. Gripping the steering wheel, she proceeded to Lily Mae's house. The older lady lived in a ranch-style home surrounded by foliage and timbered mountains.

  Lily Mae met her at the door with a container of fresh-squeezed lemonade. Emily handed her the flower. The other woman snapped the stem and tucked the daisy behind her ear.

  "Ready to go?" Emily asked.

  "You bet."

  They didn't need to travel far to find a comfortable spot on Lily Mae's property. Emily unpacked the picnic basket and Lily Mae settled onto their blanket with a comfy wiggle.

  "This makes me feel young again," she said.

  "It's peaceful here." Emily gazed at the trees that weaved their way into a forest. "I miss being out-doors."

  "You look cute in that hat." Lily Mae poured the lemonade. "Straw suits you."

  Emily curbed a giggle. Lily Mae had an odd way about her, but her unusual approach to life was honest and refreshing. After filling two paper plates with fried chicken, diced fruit and potato salad, she offered one to Lily Mae.

  The other woman accepted it greedily. "Aren't you going to ask about him?"

  Emily reached for her fork. "Who?"

  "James."

  Her stomach tensed. She'd spent the past week imagining him at the stables, working in the sun, his skin glowing from hard-earned sweat. Her James, she thought. Her shape-shifter. The man who might live; the man who might die. "How is he?"

  "Keeping busy. But he's brooding a lot. I guess you two are having a little trouble."

  She couldn't tell Lily Mae what was wrong, just as she hadn't been able to tell Diane. But this was what James had warned her about. Being in a relationship with him meant keeping secrets. "I was hoping we could talk about Harvey."

  "Harvey?" Lily Mae started. "Now why would you want to talk about that old codger?"

  "You danced with him at my party."

  "One silly dance. It didn't mean a thing."

  "Didn't it?" Emily picked at her food. "I heard you two went for a walk that night."

  "It was just a short walk."

  "James thinks you and Harvey were lovers once."

  "Does he?" Lily Mae blinked, then sighed, unable to mask her emotions. "And here I thought no one knew."

  "I don't think anyone does. James figured it out on his own."

  The older woman turned to look at the forest, scrutinizing the trees that bled into the mountains. "I came from money, and Harvey's family was dirt-poor. He used to smile at me in town, and my heart would pitter-patter. Just like rain falling on a roof."

  Emily nodded. She knew the feeling well.

  Lily Mae went on. "My parents were rather snobbish for country folks, and they had a prestigious suitor in mind for me, a young man they wanted me to marry."

  "Did you agree to marry him?"

  "Yes. I wasn't strong enough to defy my parents, particularly my mother. She was a demanding woman." Lily Mae turned away from the trees. "A month before the wedding, I drove to the river. It was late, after midnight, and I wanted to be alone. But Harvey happened to be there."

  Emily tried to picture the older couple when they were young, but all she could see was James and herself. "Did you make love with him that night?"

  "Yes. And we saw each other after that, too. We continued to meet at the river. But we didn't dare let anyone know."

  "What happened?"

  "I couldn't face my parents with the truth, so I married the man they'd chosen for me. Harvey was devastated." Lily Mae frowned at her plate. "Harvey enlisted in the army, and when his tour ended, he came back to Silver Wolf, then landed a job with the post office. I got divorced and married someone else. I've been married three times."

  "But never to Harvey," Emily put in.

  "No. Never to him. By the time my third marriage ended, I was through with men."

  "And now?"

  Lily Mae blushed like a schoolgirl. "And now I'm sneaking around with Harvey. Can you imagine? Two old fools kissing in the moonlight?"

  Emily's heart clenched. "I think it's romantic."

  "Do you?" The gray-haired woman ducked her head. "We feel silly to let people know we're dating."

  "You shouldn't. You've earned your right to be happy. And so has Harvey." Emily knew the retired postal worker had never married. "Do you regret all those years you spent apart?"

  "Yes, I do. More than I can say. There's nothing worse than missing the man you love." Her voice turned sad. "Nothing at all."

  *

  Emily appeared like a watery image in the distance, an enchanted creature in denim, cotton and lace. James stood in the breezeway of the barn, reminding himself to breathe. As she approached, she removed her hat and fluffed her hair. The honey-blond strands settled around her face, and his fingers itched to touch. But he remained still, keeping his hands at his sides.

  A horse nickered behind him, but he ignored the friendly sound. His heart was pounding like a powwow drum and his pulse spun like a fringed and feathered dancer whirling to the beat.

  He wanted to kiss her, to thrust his tongue into her mouth, to drop to his knees and peel off her jeans, to make her head fall back and her body convulse. But the sexual urges only made him more nervous than he already was, and he cursed his raging libido.

  He missed her. God help him, he did.

  She stopped in front of him, and they gazed at each other. When her breath hitched, James knew he had to accept whatever the Creator had in store for him. Happiness, heartbreak. Whatever it was, he couldn't change the outcome.

  "You're worth the risk," she said.

  Everything, including his pounding heart, went still. Soundless. Motionless. He couldn't hear the horses anymore. The wind stopped rustling through trees, the heady scents from the barn disappeared.


  "How can you be sure?" he asked.

  "Because I did all the things you told me to do. I evaluated every aspect of my life."

  His legs nearly shook. "What about Corey?"

  "My brother loves you."

  He had to be sure. He had to make certain she'd thought this through. "What if there's a security breach and I have to relocate someday? This is your home. You grew up in Silver Wolf. You and Corey have ties here."

  She moved closer, just a little closer. "Home is where the heart is, James. There's a reason someone came up with that saying."

  "It wasn't someone being hunted by the mob. It wasn't someone in our situation."

  "Does it matter who came up with it? Or why?"

  He couldn't bear the thought of taking anything away from her. "What about your memories? The pictures of your parents?"

  She glanced up, as though searching for heaven, for her family. "I'll always have my memories, no matter where I live. And I'll remember my parents, with or without pictures."

  He pressed the issue, pushing her further. "What if someone kills me? What if the mob—"

  "Don't" She cut him off. "Don't talk about that."

  "We can't ignore it," he argued. "We can't pretend it isn't real, that the possibility doesn't exist."

  "I know." She fidgeted with her hat, still holding it, keeping her restless hands busy. "But we can't dwell on death, either."

  "You're afraid." He could see the fear in her eyes, the sheen of tears just below the surface.

  "Of course I'm afraid. And somewhere deep down, I'll always be afraid. But I have to believe WITSEC will protect you. That they'll keep you safe. Lily Mae told me there's nothing worse than missing the man you love. And she's right. I've missed you so badly this week, I could hardly stand it." Her voice quavered, trembling softly. "I want you to be part of my life, no matter what happens."

  "Oh, God." James stepped forward, and they embraced, their emotions tangling like vines. He inhaled her perfume, the airy fragrance misting her skin. He longed to have her, to keep her as close as possible. But he battled a fist of guilt, too. "I'm ashamed of my past."

  "I know, but it's over now."

  "I wronged society."

  Emily needed to free her hands, so she dropped her hat and let it float to the barn floor. "I trust you. I'll always trust you." Unable to help herself, she traced his features, skimming the arch of his brows, the slant of his cheekbones, the determined angle of his jaw. What would she do without him? How would she survive?

  "You deserve better," he said. "Better than an ex-con."

  "Don't apologize." He wasn't the fairy-tale prince from her adolescent dreams, but he was her protector, the flesh and blood man God had brought to her door. "Do you still love me, James?"

  He released a labored breath. "You know I do."

  "Then show me."

  That was all it took. He clutched her hand and led her to his house. But not to the bedroom. She found herself in the bathroom, being stripped of her clothes. Her blood flowed hot and anxious through her veins. He undressed himself, and she watched, waiting, wondering what came next. They'd never showered together, never caressed beneath a sultry spray of water.

  In the silence, she studied him – the tall, powerful form of his body – those wide, sturdy shoulders, the flat, hard plane of his stomach, his fingers on his fly, unzipping his jeans. When his chest rose and fell, she knew he was as anxious as she was.

  Naked, they climbed into the tub and turned on the shower. But there was no time to bathe, to gather the soap, to lather each other's skin.

  James dropped right to his knees.

  He licked her as desperately as he could, shocking her with hot, blinding pleasure. Emily bucked on contact, and she knew this was more than foreplay. This was James, taking what he needed, branding her in his mind.

  Like a ship on a turbulent sea, she rocked against the motion, against the wetness, against the water raining over his face. His tongue delved deep, teasing her, flicking in and out, moving in a sweet, searing rhythm.

  Steam rose in the air, as damp and dewy as her skin. A throaty moan escaped her lips, and he held her against his mouth, urging her release, the blast of desire that slammed into her system, then left her molten and weak.

  But before she could draw her next breath, he rose to kiss her, to nudge her against the shower wall, to battle the condom he'd left on the side of the tub.

  Emily blinked through the haze, through the force of being in love. His body glistened, rock hard and erect. She reached for him, and for a moment, for one slow, dizzying moment, he simply held her.

  Then he plunged swift and deep. She could feel her muscles clamp around him, keeping him tight and secure. Her heart pounded with every thrust, with every power-driven jolt. She moved with him, stroke for stroke, soul to soul. The hunger to mate fevered her blood, and she saw the same craving, the same want, in his eyes.

  And then he climaxed inside her, stealing her breath, banishing her thoughts, making everything but the sweet, slick sensation of making love disappear.

  Afterward, he pressed his forehead to hers, and she ran her hands up and down his back. The shower was still running, spraying them like a waterfall.

  "Marry me," he said against her lips.

  She kissed him in response, a long, lingering kiss. His body remained joined with hers, making his proposal warm and erotic.

  "When?" she asked.

  "Now."

  "Right now?" She rocked her hips, and he smiled.

  "Maybe not right now. But soon. As soon as we can manage it." He drew her closer, filling her body, steeping her heart, making a promise she knew he would keep.

  * * *

  Epilogue

  «^

  On the most important day of his life, James stood next to Zack Ryder. Dressed in black tuxedos, they waited outside a quaint little hilltop chapel that presided over Silver Wolf with a rein of beauty. The terrain was dotted with flowers, and the sun had begun to set, painting the summer sky with strokes of gold, crimson and blue.

  Ryder stepped back to study him. "You look good, Dalton."

  James shook his head. He'd actually asked a deputy marshal to be his best man. A lawman. A federal cop. "You look okay, too."

  "Okay?" Ryder adjusted his tie. "I look handsome as hell."

  James smiled. "For an old man."

  The WITSEC inspector made a tough-guy face, but his eyes sparkled nonetheless. "I could kick your young, cocky ass any day."

  "Any day but today." James's mood turned serious. "I don't want to fight today."

  Ryder nodded, slipping into the same earnest frame of mind. For a short while they remained silent, watching a squirrel skitter up a nearby tree. Finally, the WITSEC inspector spoke. "I've got some news about your family."

  James's heart skipped a beat. "My sister?"

  "It's good news. She married her lover about a year ago, and they're expecting their second child."

  An intense feeling came over him. He took a deep breath and pictured Heather back in Texas, married and pregnant, with his son by her side. "What about their first child? Justin," he added, picturing the baby boy he'd given away.

  "I heard that little tyke is growing like a weed." Ryder reached for a cigarette, then reconsidered, leaving the pack in his pocket. "They're a happy family."

  James blinked back the moisture that came to his eyes. "Will you let them know I'm happy, too? Get word to them somehow?"

  "Are you sure you don't want me to arrange a phone call for you? Are you sure you don't want to talk to your sister yourself?"

  "I think it would be easier if you did it." Because talking to Heather about Justin would only make him miss the boy even more.

  "Then I'll take care of it," the deputy said.

  "Thank you." James gazed at the town below, at the simple rooftops and quiet country roads. "I'm going to be all right, Ryder. I'm done screwing up my life."

  "You bet you are. And WITSEC is going to
make damn sure you remain safe." The older man checked his watch. "We better go inside. It's about that time."

  The chapel was filled with friends who'd come to share this special day, to witness James and Emily take a vow. James saw Lily Mae and Harvey in the first pew, both decked out in their Sunday finest. Corey, the tuxedoed ring bearer, waited at the entrance with a pretty little flower girl Emily had chosen. Diane served as the matron of honor, and her husband had lent himself out as an usher. Steven wasn't in the ceremony, but he wore a tux just like Corey's, proud of his silk lapels and boutonniere.

  The procession began and, one by one, the wedding party made their way down the aisle. When the bride finally appeared, James couldn't keep his eyes off her. A traditional white gown draped her slim form, and a veil, as sheer as a whisper, covered her face.

  She moved with grace and elegance, and he watched with awe and wonder. After she lifted her veil, their gazes locked and held. At that life-altering moment, the Cherokee incantation swirled between them, and he knew she had come to draw away his soul.

  It wasn't time to kiss her, but it didn't matter. He leaned into her and she brushed his mouth, sending a ripple of warmth through his body. The sweet scent of her bouquet filled his nostrils, and he thanked the Creator for the woman who'd given him hope, who loved and trusted him.

  Together, they turned to the minister, ready to repeat their vows, to face the world and conquer their fears, to share their dreams and become husband and wife.

  * * * *