Dance with Destiny

by Becky Lower

  Naked, and proud.

  Raoul stepped inside the room. He was closing the door on his lonesome past and opening the world that was his future.

  He stood in front of Susannah, who stared up at him, a question in her eyes. He reached for her, cupped a breast in his palm, and stroked her nipple. Her whimper answered his question. There was no need for words. He moved closer and kissed her lips gently. His hands came to her shoulders and his mouth left hers and began to caress her flesh. He seared a path from her ear down her neck and then into the valley between her breasts. She smelled of lye soap and the musky scent of a woman ready for sex…and Raoul was rocked to his core. His mouth moved to her breast and covered the nipple, gently sucking and laving with his tongue. A bit of her milk dripped out, and his laughter bubbled to the surface.

  "I am stealing milk again, just as I did the first time I met your family."

  Her head tilted back to lock eyes with him. "And I'm so glad you did." She wrapped a hand around the back of his head and drew him down for a kiss. This time, they both unleashed the passion that had been building between them for a year. Raoul's hands never left her body. The feel of her flesh under his fingers drove him wild. He kissed her shoulder, caressed her breasts, ran a finger around the waistband of her skirt, inserted his leg between hers and their bodies ground together as they became familiar with each other in an entirely different way.

  She pulled his shirt up over his shoulders and touched his torso. "I've dreamed of putting my hands on your chest ever since the first day I caught sight of you with your shirt off as you chopped wood."

  "You were not meant to see me that day."

  "Yet, there you were, outside my window, all manly chest and bulging muscles as you worked."

  Her hands caressed his buttocks, still encased in deerskin. "Do you have any idea how enticing your bottom is as you bend over to pick up a piece of wood?" She pulled him closer to her and began to undo his leggings.

  His laughter bubbled up again. It had been a very long time since he had anything to laugh about. For the rest of his life, he hoped to laugh with this woman. He lowered her to the bed, removed her moccasins before bringing the washbowl over from the dresser. He washed both of her feet, kissing each toe and her instep before encircling her ankle with his fingers and giving a gentle massage to her tired feet.

  He freshened the washcloth and continued to cleanse her calves, working his way up her body. Her skirt puddled around her waist and she lay still, allowing him to bathe her. Her soft sighs were music to his ears. He would make her life easier during the day in exchange for letting her take care of him at night. It was a fair exchange and his already erect manhood twitched in agreement. He worked the washcloth closer to the apex of her thighs.

  He removed her underclothes and finally, opened the waistband of her skirt and pulled it down her clean legs. He brought the washcloth to her center and cupped her sex. She bolted and bucked at his intimate touch before settling back with a cry of pleasure. His need to touch her overrode his plan to take things slow. He tossed the washcloth onto the floor and placed his hand on her, massaging her bundle of nerves. Her moan of delight told him everything.

  "Ah, Susannah, we have waited long enough."

  She brought his lips to hers. "I agree. I need to feel you inside of me. Please, make love to me."

  In answer, he rose, removed his leggings and then lowered himself onto the bed. His pulsating shaft found its way between her legs. They both sighed as he moved the head of his manhood against her, covering it in her juices to ease the entry into her body. He had no idea if William had ever gotten well enough to have sex with his wife again before he died, so it might have been a while since any man had entered her body. On top of that, she had experienced a difficult birth with Missouria. She’d had enough pain in her young life, so Raoul took things slow.

  He entered her a bit at a time until he was embedded in her. He pulled her knees up to allow him even deeper access. She reached around and caressed his sac of seed. He was home. Finally. He leaned over and captured her lips.

  "Had I been aware of how good you would feel, I would have ravished you upon our first meeting."

  “I could say the same about you, Raoul.” Susannah’s breath was ragged as she placed her hands on his hips, bringing him into her, setting up a rhythm they both were familiar with.

  Raoul pulled himself away from her body and then plunged back in, listening to her breathing as it sped up, and a cry escaped her lips. Their bodies grew slick with sweat as they slapped together, each reaching for the climax that had been a year in the making.

  Susannah cried out one more time, and he could feel her body tense as her muscles tighten around his shaft. She spilled over the edge, her breath harsh as she crested and her muscles relaxed. He drove into her a few more times before he joined her, his seed filling her.

  He had no wish to leave her body. He never wished to leave her again. But they weren't alone in this relationship. There were five children to account for, and a farm that had belonged to the family for years. There was a graveyard, where William lay beside Mary, the twin daughter that had not survived, and the small son they had buried years before.

  Raoul rolled to Susannah's side, his manhood still buried in her, although it was now soft. He wrapped a leg around her hip to hold himself in place a bit longer.

  "We need to talk."

  Susannah gave him a lazy grin. "I'd rather we make love again. That was blissful."

  She pulled him to her and kissed him before her fingers skittered over his chest and teased his nipples into hard peaks. He placed a hand over hers, stilling her movements.

  "There will be more lovemaking. Of that, you can be sure. But we need to discuss what we are going to do now."

  "Why can't we just continue on as we have been?"

  "Because your children need a father, and I wish to fill that role for them, in every way. And I cannot do that if I am forced to hide out in the barn every time someone comes up from the village."

  Susannah sat up on her elbows and stared at him. "You wish to get married to me?"

  "I wish to do whatever it takes to make you happy. Now that your husband is gone, other men will find their way up here to woo you. Even with all your children, you have a working farm and a fetching body. Any man would be proud to have you by their side."

  "I don't wish to have another man by my side. Only you, Raoul."

  "Well, then, we need to wed. I need to make it official. We can either have a traditional Indian wedding or we can head into town, to that little white church in the valley, and get it done, good and proper. But it will be done."

  She unwound herself from him and got to her feet, then pulled on a nightgown and paced around the small room. "As I said, I only need you, Raoul. I'll never be tempted by another man, since no one comes close to matching you. You captured my heart a long time ago. We’ve earned our right to happiness. I don’t need marriage to solidify what we have.”

  Raoul reached up and grasped her hand as she strode by the bed. “But what if I do?”

  She lowered herself back to the bed, and kissed him softly. “Ah, Raoul. Most men would run screaming for the hills rather than take on the burden of a wife who already has five children.”

  He tugged at the robe, pulling it from her shoulders, and caressed her breasts. “I am not most men.”

  She placed her arms around his neck and kissed him again. “Thank God. All right then, if you’re serious about this, let’s discuss marriage. My big worry is how making our union official will affect the children. They will be teased when we go to town. If we marry, all of my children will be called Indian, even though they had a different father. Can't my word to you be enough?"

  “It is not ‘if’ we marry, but ‘when.’ I will not skulk around whenever you see someone from town. How would you introduce me? As your hired hand? Do you not see how you would be inviting even more rumors by doing so?"

  Susannah gave him
a tremulous smile. "You are quite stealthy, though. You're Lone Wolf."

  Raoul’s anger flared and he left the warm bed to stand naked beside it. "Is that the problem you have? Marrying an Indian does not fit in your plans? I am only servicing you until you find a proper husband?"

  Her tears broke then, and she tumbled back onto the bed, pulling him with her. "If it were just me, Raoul, I'd be on the back of your horse, heading out for parts unknown. I’d leave this spit of land William and I worked so hard to tame without a backward glance. But the children, their needs and feelings, do need to be considered. This place is all they’ve ever known, the town is the only one they’ve ever seen. Their father and siblings are buried on this hill, so we must stay. And that means dealing with the people who live here, even if some of them are cruel."

  Raoul wove his fingers through her long flaxen hair. More than anyone, he could relate to how hard it was to be a half-breed.

  "But your children's father was William. Everyone in town has that knowledge. I will have no problem dealing with them, since people and their feelings are no different here than they are in St. Louis. My brothers and I are used to having people talk behind their hands."

  "It doesn’t matter if the town remembers William is their father. Sully's already been spreading the gossip that Missouria is yours. He even had William doubting my word, which about broke my heart. Even though it's not true, people will talk, for lack of anything better to do. The little ones will be tortured for years."

  "Would you care to move then? We can head to Missouri, to my father's ranch. There is always room for more people, and always work to be done. There will still be prejudice, since some do not take kindly to Indians and whites marrying, but we will surround the children with enough family to shelter them from the stinging barbs."

  "I would worry most about Lydia if we did. She has such a connection to her sister, up on the hill. Why don't we talk things over with the children?"

  Raoul reached for her, drawing her to his chest. Already, he was starting to swell with need again. His fingers caressed her cheek, then cupped her breast. He lowered his mouth to her navel, kissing, sucking, exploring that little cavity with his tongue. Every touch elicited a small sound of contentment from her. His mouth scorched a path from her waist to her hot spot, and he covered her sex with his mouth and began to tease it. Her body moved up from the mattress, urging him to take more. He cupped her bottom in his hands and feasted on her. Her hands wove through his hair as she held him in place, her head shifting from side to side as she enjoyed the torment his mouth caused.

  He didn't care if they were on this farm, in St. Louis, or in an Ojibwa camp. If he could have this woman to share his journey through life with, he'd be happy. Something he never thought he would be again.

  He entered her ready body, his strong thrusts bringing them to climax quickly. Even though they were exhausted, and bathed in sweat, they couldn't keep their hands still. They would fall into sleep, caressing each other, then wake up fully aroused only minutes or hours later. Their long night of lovemaking had only begun to put a dent in the need Raoul had. A lifetime would not be enough.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Raoul had left Susannah’s bed before the children woke, and she missed his warmth. But, unlike every other day, this distance between them was only temporary. She couldn't wait to tell the children of the new direction for their lives.

  After morning chores were done, Susannah prepared breakfast. Raoul came into the house and stood behind her, trying to steal a slice of salty bacon sizzling in the pan. She laughed and slapped his fingers.

  “You’re worse than little George, who I have to keep my eye on every moment so he won’t do something to hurt himself. That grease is hot. Wait until I put the bacon on the table.”

  He lifted her braid out of the way and kissed the back of her neck. A bolt of longing blasted through her body at his tender touch, making her toes curl inside her moccasins. They had worn each other out last night, yet here she stood, ready to make love to him again. A mere glance, a soft touch, was all she needed to have a pool of dampness between her legs. She leaned back into his body, and his hard shaft dug into her backside. She was not alone in her feelings, and the knowledge made her smile.

  Breakfast was soon on the table and the children made quick work of emptying their plates. The scent of bacon and the sweetness of syrup for the pancakes mingled in the air.

  "Listen up, little ones. I have a surprise." Her gaze skittered to the end of the table and met Raoul’s, who was holding Missouria. He nodded slightly. She took a deep breath.

  "We are going to take a holiday from work today. After we finish the dishes up, we're all going to put on our best clothes and head into town."

  A murmur of excitement raced around the table.

  "What are we going to town for, Mama?" Hannah spoke for the group.

  "Because your mama is about to get married in the church there. I’m going to marry Raoul. But only if you all agree to it."

  In unison, the children's heads swerved from their mother to Raoul, their mouths agape.

  "Lone Wolf is going to be our father?" Hannah's smile lit her face.

  "No, William will always be your father. But Raoul will help me raise you children. Because he has some Indian blood, you children might get teased when we go to town. Do you think you can handle it?”

  Hannah and Jacob nodded solemnly. Lydia nodded as well, a huge smile on her face. George and Missouria were too young to understand, but they both caught the excitement in the room, and became animated. Hannah spoke for her siblings. “We are as strong as you are, Mama. We can handle anything they throw at us.”

  Susannah finished telling her children about what she and Raoul had discussed late into the evening. “Soon after the wedding, we are going on an adventure. We will take the rest of the summer and visit the Ojibwa camp where his grandfather lives, and then go on to St. Louis, to meet his family. We will be back here before the pass gets closed off for winter."

  More murmurs of excitement went around the table.

  "We get to visit an Indian camp?" Jacob put his hand over his mouth and whooped a war cry.

  Raoul glanced at the children and smiled. Susannah smiled, too. They had been so burdened by adult concerns for the past year, it was wonderful to see them behaving like the children they were.

  Raoul finally joined in the conversation. "After visiting with Grandfather, we will go to my father's ranch. He gathers up wild horses out west and breaks them to the saddle before he sells them."

  "Horses and Indians in the same summer? How lucky we are! Maybe now I can learn to ride a horse properly." Hannah spoke for all of them.

  "Lucky, indeed. Now, let's get these dishes done and head into town."

  During the long ride into town, Susannah and Raoul discussed more practical matters. They'd need to find a preacher, first thing. Then, as the hasty arrangements were made, they'd need to track down Sully. Hopefully, he'd find someone who could keep the farm going, the chickens fed and laying, the cow milked, the fields tended, while they were gone. For as long as they were gone.

  Their luck held when they arrived at the church. The preacher was standing outside the entrance, talking to a parishioner. Susannah took a moment to glance around as Raoul helped unload the little ones. She could not have pictured a better place to start her new life. The whitewashed exterior, the tall steeple, the way the church was nestled between two hills, all brought a lump to her throat. Raoul reached for her to help her down from the wagon, and as his hands came around her waist, Susannah again had a rush of heat from her head to her toes and she blushed.

  Would she always get this aroused by his touch, or would the tedium of daily life eventually take its toll on this relationship, as it had with William? She bumped up against him, feeling his arousal. It calmed her to have this show of his affection, so she wrapped a hand around the back of his head and drew him in for a kiss. In front of the preacher. And the
parishioner.

  She laughed and gathered up her children, who were all decked out in their finest clothes. With Raoul's hand in hers, she strode forward and the gentleman who had been deep in discussion with the pastor scurried away.

  "Hello, Pastor Monahan. I had hoped we'd find you straight away."

  His gaze skittered over Raoul and then back to her, his lip curling a bit. "What can I help you with, Susannah?"

  "We'd appreciate it if you could marry us."

  "I don't make a practice of marrying white folk with Indians."

  "But he's not just an Indian. He's also French-Canadian. He adores William's children as if they were his own. And I love him."

  The preacher's eyes moved again to Raoul. "French-Canadian? That's not what I've been hearing."

  Susannah's back straightened. She handed Missouria to Hannah and faced the preacher.

  "May we talk privately for a minute?"

  They moved a few steps away.

  "I’ve been a faithful parishioner for a long time, Pastor. You blessed each of my babies when they came into this world, and you witnessed the love between William and me. He was a good man, but now he's gone, leaving me with five young children and a farm to care for."

  The pastor shook his head. "There are other good men out there, even in this small town. Several of them have wished to climb the mountain and present you with the possibility of marriage, but they respected William enough to wait and to give you time to mourn his loss. But evidently, this Indian did not. He swooped in when you were at your most vulnerable point… and now you plan to marry him? This is not a wise scenario, Susannah. There's no need to burden you and your family by marrying an Indian. Your children will be tormented for their entire lives because of your folly."

  "My 'folly,' as you put it, is none of your concern. As I said, he cares for my children as if they were his own. Not many men would be willing to take on a wife and a ready-made family of five children, despite getting me and a farm in the bargain. If you don't perform a simple ceremony joining us in marriage, we'll have to live in sin. And a preacher who forces sin upon people is not a very good preacher—at least, in my eyes."