Brave the Wild Wind ww-1

by Johanna Lindsey

  “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” he said softly as they dismounted.

  “The stream looks like liquid silver in this light,” she answered, pointing. “And over there you can see several more creeks. There’s one farther up where I like to swim, a nice sunny area that’s completely secluded.”

  “You’re not thinking of swimming now, are you?” Chase asked in alarm.

  Jessie laughed softly. “Of course not. It’s too cold at night.” She looked at him carefully and frowned sternly. “Look at you. Why didn’t you bring a jacket?”

  “I didn’t think about it,” he said lamely. “But I’m fine, really.”

  “You are not.” She went to get the extra blanket she always kept in her saddlebag. “Here. You can wrap yourself in this for the ride back.”

  She leaned close to him to drape it around his shoulders. That closeness was just more than he could bear. She was only inches away. His arms acted of their own accord, circling her, gathering her to him. His lips sought hers. He was powerless to obey his better instincts, so he left it up to Jessie, silently begging her to fight him off. Maybe she could bring him to his senses.

  But Jessie had no thought of fighting him. She was caught off guard and considered nothing except the sensations fluttering in her belly and the warmth spreading through her. The pressure of his lips increased, and with it her yearning grew.

  His tongue forced its way between her lips next, and she opened her mouth to accommodate him, liking the new assault. She moaned softly and pressed closer to the hard, muscular length of him. She could feel the evidence of his desire and was extremely excited by it. Chase gave up his silent battle and succumbed. She would be his. There was no further thought to the consequences.

  He pulled her down to the ground, the blanket spreading out under him. He managed to keep her in the same position, so that she lay on top of him, her legs between his. The full weight of her pressing on him was a lightning shock. He rolled over, placing her beneath him. There was a frantic urgency to his movements.

  Jessie felt him opening her belt and tugging at her shirt. His hand moved up under her shirt and reached her breasts, and little sounds of pleasure escaped her, driving him wild. He was too inflamed to be gentle, but so was she. She ripped a button from his shirt, trying to reach his bare flesh. His skin was hot, burning her, and the muscles on his back were hard and tense. She dug her fingers into those muscles, clasping him savagely.

  A little voice inside her head asked her what the hell she was doing, but she ignored it. She moved both hands to his chest, running her fingers through his hair, reaching his shoulders, his thickly corded neck, grasping his hair.

  His lips were devouring hers now, bruising her, but she urged him on. He tugged at her pants, and she helped him push them down to her feet. But when he moved to fight with her boots so as to remove her pants completely, she stopped him. She was on fire. She couldn’t bear to have him move away from her even for a moment.

  She caught his hair and pulled him down on top of her. “I want you now,” she whispered huskily. “Now.”

  His lips seared her throat, moving to her ear. “But I want to feel all of—”

  “Now, Chase!”

  His desire to have her skin molded to his, to look on all of her in the moonlight, was not as strong as her urgent plea. He undressed in an instant, and she brought her knees up on both sides of his. Her moist warmth made it easy for him to enter her, but Chase restrained himself, holding back for one delicious moment, wanting to savor that first thrust. And then he found his way blocked by the last thing he had expected to find.

  “Oh, my God,” he gasped, never more miserable in his life. “I’m sorry, Jessie.”

  She paid no attention, thrusting her hips upward insistently. Jessie gasped. No one had ever told her there would be any pain. But it faded, and then it was gone, the urgent need returning and washing through her like a flood.

  He was moving in her, and she delighted in the full length of him. He was gentler than she would have liked, slower, but she found the exquisite torture had its rewards, intensifying her need, prolonging the craving. And when she hurtled over the crest, the explosion that followed went on and on.

  A few moments later, when Chase collapsed and was still, Jessie hugged him to her tenderly. “Wonderful,” she murmured dreamily.

  He raised his head. “More than you realize,” he said softly.

  His lips caressed hers with a feathery touch and moved down to her neck, her ear. He laid his head on her shoulder with a deep, contented sigh. Chase had never felt more relaxed, more blissful. Sleep beckoned, but he fought it, wanting to savor the feeling of her clasping him.

  She was like no woman he had ever been with. Such intense passion from a woman was unknown to him. She had been as wild to have him as he was to have her. Even her virginity hadn’t restrained her. Her virginity! Ah, he had forgotten. Damn! He was done for now!

  Jessie felt him tense suddenly. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied too quickly.

  Jessie frowned. “You’re sorry we did this, aren’t you?”

  “Aren’t you?” he countered.

  “Why should I be?”

  “You were a virgin!” he said painfully.

  Jessie smiled. “Of course I was. Did you think otherwise?”

  He was feeling trapped. “Well, you weren’t behaving like a virgin the first day I saw you.”

  “Oh, that,” Jessie scoffed remembering. “That was nothing. I just wasn’t aware of what Blue was doing.”

  “I suppose you’ll say that about what happened here tonight.”

  Jessie grinned, thinking he was jealous. “I was quite aware of everything you were doing.”

  He was silent, which began to confuse her.

  “I don’t understand what you’re upset about,” she said.

  “You were a virgin! I had no right... I would have stopped.”

  “I know,” she said softly, remembering when he had indeed stopped. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

  “You made sure I wouldn’t, didn’t you?”

  She giggled.

  “I don’t see anything funny about this, Jessie.”

  “I don’t see what the problem is. I wanted you, too, you know. If I’m not upset over what happened, why should you be?”

  “You’re not going to expect... anything... because of this?”

  He rolled over even as he asked the question and began dressing.

  “What do you mean, expect anything?” she asked warily.

  “Come on, Jessie, you know what I mean. I’m sure you’re not like most virgins, who give themselves up just to trap a man, but if Rachel should find out about this she would insist—”

  “We marry,” Jessie finished for him, her eyes blazing with sudden and complete understanding. “And of course I’m not good enough for you to marry.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  She slapped him then with all the fury growing within her. “Bastard!” she hissed, getting to her feet. “It didn’t matter while you were getting what you wanted, but afterward you started fearing the consequences, didn’t you?”

  “Jessie—”

  “Damn you, I hate you! You’ve made me feel dirty and calculating and deceitful. But I’m not like that! I hate you for it.”

  He could have cut his tongue out. “Jessie, I’m sorry,” he began contritely, but she was walking away so as to dress apart from him. Once dressed, she grabbed her blanket and mounted.

  “You’ve ruined what happened, and nothing can change that,” she called to him. “I wouldn’t marry you if you begged me. So you needn’t worry I’ll tell Rachel about it. I don’t need her reminding me of something I’m going to forget.”

  Jessie rode off. At least he knew better than to follow her.

  Chapter 13

  CHASE woke at dawn. He took his time getting back to the ranch, trying to think what to say to Jessie. He had ruined her first tast
e of love, and he wanted terribly to make her feel better.

  Rachel was on the porch, looking especially lovely in a dress of spring green with rows of white ruffles that swept back into the bustle. Her golden hair was caught in a tight bun at her neck, with wispy curls at her temples.

  She looked elegant. Rachel always looked elegant, demure and poised, as if nothing could ruffle her. It was one thing Jonathan Ewing had admired about her. And it was the only thing that irritated Chase about Rachel, that unnatural self-control.

  “Goodness, Chase, you look like you’ve been out all night,” Rachel said as he drew up by the porch.

  He looked down at himself and grinned, rubbing his stubbly chin. “I was. I couldn’t sleep last night and went for a ride. Only I got lost in the dark, so I bedded down until daylight.”

  She shook her head. “Honestly, Chase, that’s not like you.”

  “Well, I haven’t exactly been myself since I came here, Rachel,” he retorted. “That daughter of yours has a way of changing people.”

  She ignored that. “Weren’t you supposed to begin work this morning?”

  He was ashamed. He’d forgotten. “I guess I was. I suppose Jessie has already left?”

  “I don’t know,” Rachel sighed. “She never tells me anything.”

  “Well, mornin‘, young feller.” Jeb came around the porch and spotted Chase. “Noticed your horse didn’t sleep in his stall last night. You just gettin’ back from somewhere?”

  “Yep,” Chase replied, offering nothing further.

  Jeb grunted, seeing he wasn’t going to get any more information. He turned to Rachel, dismissing Chase by giving him his back.

  “Thought you’d better see this, so you don’t go gettin‘ all fired up like before,” he told her grouchily.

  She snatched the note from Jeb and read it quickly, groaning. “Not again.”

  Chase dismounted and read the piece of paper.

  Jeb,

  I need to get away for a while. Look after things for me. Tell Mitch to start the drive without me if I’m not back before he’s ready. He can handle things. You know where to find me if I’m needed.

  Jessie

  “So where’s she gone this time, Jeb?” Chase demanded.

  “Where she went last time,” Jeb said none too kindly.

  “Are you going to start that again?” Chase exploded.

  “You know where to find her, Jeb. You have to go after her,” Rachel said.

  “Can’t do that.” He shook his head stubbornly. “Not unless she’s needed, like she says.”

  Rachel turned to Chase, those big eyes so full of anxiety. “All right, Rachel,” he groaned. “I haven’t done this much riding since I covered California searching for my father.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Chase.”

  “I know,” he said. “But that daughter of yours won’t appreciate it when I catch up with her.”

  He wasn’t at all pleased about this second wild-goose chase. And the fact that Jessie had run away made him feel decidedly uncomfortable after what had happened the night before. She was gone because of him.

  Chapter 14

  IT was so wonderful to be with White Thunder and his family again, wonderful to put away her guns and wear the Indian dress Little Gray Bird Woman had helped her make, to braid her hair and wrap fancy beaded and quilled thongs around her braids. It was wonderful. But it wasn’t the same as before, because there was an intruder this time.

  Little Hawk had followed her to the Cheyenne village. He had not returned north at all but had stayed in the area. If he’d been skulking around, watching her, couldn’t he have seen her with Chase that night? She was more embarrassed than she’d ever been in her life. Why did he persist in following her? White Thunder couldn’t explain, saying only that Little Hawk had requested to speak with her.

  She had managed to forget about Little Hawk the night before. She and White Thunder spent long hours talking, and she had unburdened herself to him, especially about her father’s death. His sympathy had managed to make her cry, which was good. Then she went on to tell him about Rachel and her recent troubles, but he had no solutions to offer. For some reason, she said nothing about Chase. Perhaps she was too ashamed.

  This afternoon, Jessie waited in the tepee with her friend for Little Hawk’s arrival. They had the large tepee to themselves. White Thunder’s little brother was off with his friends, using half-sized bows and arrows to hunt for prairie dogs and rabbits. Runs with the Wolf was outside gambling with some of the older men. Wide River Woman and Little Gray Bird Woman were tanning a buffalo hide behind the tepee, and their soft voices came to Jessie every so often. She had to grin at their conversation.

  “I saw you smiling at Gray Kettle, daughter, and I have told you many times you must never exchange glances or smiles with a man, and certainly not one who is courting you.”

  “But it was only a little smile, Mother,” Little Gray Bird Woman protested.

  “Every little smile will lessen your worth. He will think he has already won you, so he will not offer so many horses. Do you want to be a poor wife?”

  “No, Mother.” Little Gray Bird Woman’s voice was submissive. “And I will remember not to smile so much.”

  “Not to smile at all, daughter,” Wide River Woman reprimanded. “And you must not let Gray Kettle or White Dog stay so long when they come to visit.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Has either of your young men asked you to marry?” Wide River Woman’s voice grew even more serious.

  “No, not yet.”

  “Well, you must remember to refuse the first time you are asked. Refuse gently, but let them know you are not an easy conquest.”

  “But, Mother—”

  “Listen to me. I tell you these things for your own good,” Wide River Woman said patiently. “Do not let either of your young men see you when you are alone, even the man you prefer. You must not let a man touch you, daughter, especially your breasts. If a man touches your breasts, he considers that you belong to him. Would you have your two men fighting each other because one boasts that he has won you before he has consent? No, you would not, for the one you prefer may lose. Have you made a choice yet? My husband favors White Dog, as I do, but if Gray Kettle should offer more, then ...”

  Their voices trailed off. Jessie’s face was bright red. She had let Chase Summers touch her breasts and do a great deal more. But he wasn’t an Indian. He’d not think she belonged to him. No, quite the opposite. Chase had known her in the most intimate way, then wanted nothing more to do with her!

  White Thunder had been watching Jessie closely, and he’d known her for a long time.

  “You blush. Have you been touched by a man, Looks Like Woman?” he teased.

  Jessie gasped. Could he see into her mind? It was eerie and it had happened many times before.

  “Do you wish to speak of it?” he asked hesitantly.

  “No, not yet.”

  “It was not Little Hawk?”

  She laughed bitterly and he was shocked.

  “At least he wouldn’t want a woman one minute, then decide she was unworthy of him the next.”

  “Who has treated you this way?” White Thunder stood up. He was very angry.

  “Sit down, my friend,” Jessie said gently. “I was probably as much to blame for what happened as he was. I was naive.”

  “But you are hurt.”

  “I will get over it.”

  Jessie returned to pounding the wild cherries, pits and all, in a stone mortar. Later they would be dried and mixed with strips of buffalo meat and fat to make pemmican, a food that would keep for months.

  He moved away from her, leaving her to her thoughts. Jessie was glad she had told him. He would understand now if she suddenly became moody.

  White Thunder was such a wise, thoughtful man for one so young. He was, in fact, only two years older than she was. How she loved him, her dear friend
! She glanced at him and smiled as he looked up at her.

  The Cheyenne were the tallest of the Plains tribes, and White Thunder was six feet in height. He was disturbingly handsome, too, with those startling blue eyes inherited from his father. His skin was copper, but mostly from the sun. He was a young warrior who had already proved himself as fit as any man, stronger than most. She was proud of their friendship.

  Little Hawk came in a few minutes later, entering the tepee silently. He wore a shirt reserved for special occasions, one made of the hide of the bighorn sheep. The long sleeves were fringed, as were his leggings, and the bead work was beautiful. There were also tassels and bits of metal and shells hanging here and there. On his braids were wrappings of white fur, and a single blue feather was attached, just like the feather he had left her.

  White Thunder was impressed, and concerned. The way the Sioux was dressed portended something important, and he was afraid he knew what that something was. He was not pleased.

  Little Hawk, following protocol, waited to be invited to sit. White Thunder let him wait for a moment, looking at Jessie to see if she understood the meaning of this visit. Finally he sighed and bade Little Hawk welcome, speaking in the Sioux tongue. Jessie watched them talking, growing impatient as the conversation continued without her understanding a word of it. She had thought Little Hawk was there to talk to her. She was becoming annoyed.

  At last Little Hawk turned to her, and White Thunder said, “He asks permission to speak to you.”

  Jessie replied, “But I have already agreed to speak to him. Isn’t that why he’s here?”

  “He is asking formally now.”

  Jessie repressed a grin at the absurdity of it. “Then I agree, formally.”

  White Thunder continued solemnly, “He has also asked that I interpret for him.”