He returned shortly. He stowed the flour under the seat, then swung up beside her and took up the reins.
“Did you remember the thread?”
“It’s in my pocket.”
Roger was standing on the boardwalk in front of the hotel when they passed by. Alisha didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge him in any way, but she was aware of his gaze following them out of town.
“Mitch.”
He grunted softly.
“I love you.”
Three simple words, fervently spoken. She watched the anger, the tension, drain out of him. His shoulders relaxed, his jaw unclenched, he loosened his tight grip on the reins.
And then he pulled off the road, following a narrow winding path that ended at the river.
He climbed out of the buggy, lifted her to the ground. Taking her by the hand, he led her into a secluded thicket. Wordlessly, he drew her into his arms and kissed her. She had the feeling it wasn’t so much a kiss as a brand, a reminder that she belonged to him.
She slid her hands up under his shirt and caressed his back, reveling in the warm skin beneath her fingertips, the power of the arms wrapped so tightly around her. She felt his need pressing against her belly, felt an answering need uncoil in the innermost part of her body, yearning toward him, aching for the pleasure only he could give, and she leaned into him, her hips thrusting forward, provocative, inviting.
Still entwined in each other’s arms, they sank down on the soft grass. He kissed away her clothing, his mouth trailing fire as he rained butterfly kisses over every inch of exposed flesh. Her hands were equally busy, divesting him of his shirt, tugging off his trousers, giggling when she realized she should have removed his boots first.
He laughed with her, a deep sexy sound that made her heart beat even faster, made her hands clumsy as she pulled off his pants. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
The grass was cool beneath her back, but the heat radiating from Mitch’s body soon made her forget everything else. She wrapped her arms around him.
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me that you love me. Just me.”
“I love you,” she gasped, her nails raking his back. “Only you.”
Thrusting deeper, he covered her face and neck with kisses, his hands working their familiar magic, until she thought she might shatter into a million pieces of pleasure, until she did shatter, as wave upon wave of ecstasy exploded within her, then slowly, slowly coalesced into a feeling of sweet satisfaction.
With a sigh, she held Mitch close, basking in the warm afterglow of passion, in the welcome weight of his body on hers, the touch of his heated skin, the feel of his hair brushing against her breasts.
“Mitch?”
He feathered kisses over her cheeks. “What is it, darlin’?”
“I think I’m pregnant.”
He pushed himself up on his elbows and gazed down at her. “What?”
“Pregnant? With child? In the family way?”
He stared at her, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. Do you mind?”
“Mind? No, I think it’s great.” He rolled onto his side, carrying her with him, then slid his hand between their bodies and rested it on her belly. “Damn. How do you feel? Dammit, ‘Lisha, why didn’t you tell me? What if I hurt you? Maybe we shouldn’t have…”
She put her hand over his mouth, stifling his outburst. “Hey, it’s all right. You didn’t hurt me.”
His gaze softened, grew tender as he kissed her gently. “I’ll be here for you this time, ‘Lisha. I promise.” He kissed her again, joy thrumming through him. “Come on, let’s go tell Rides the Buffalo he’s going to have a little brother.”
Alisha made a face at him as he helped her to her feet. “It might be a girl, you know?”
“A girl?”
“Yes, you know, a girl?”
“Oh, right.” He picked up her chemise and tossed it at her. “A girl.”
“You wouldn’t mind if it was a girl, would you?”
“Of course not.” Grinning, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “In case you haven’t noticed, I like girls.”
* * * * *
They told White Robe and Rides the Buffalo about the baby as soon as they got home. White Robe looked pleased. Rides the Buffalo stared at Alisha��s stomach.
“How did the baby get in there?” he asked.
Alisha looked at Mitch, who looked at White Robe, who laughed.
“I think his mother should tell him,” Mitch said.
“I think his father should tell him,” Alisha said.
“I think his grandmother should tell him,” White Robe decided, and taking Rides the Buffalo by the hand, she led him out of the room.
“Well,” Alisha said, her lips twitching. “We handled that really well, didn’t we?”
Mitch laughed. “Who would have thought he was old enough to even wonder about such a thing.” He shook his head. “Well, at least we’ve got plenty of time to think of a good answer for the next one.” He pulled Alisha into his arms and patted her stomach. “Maybe we’d better think about getting married before he…” He grinned at her. “Or she gets here.”
“Are you proposing to me, Mr. Garret?”
“I am indeed, Miss Faraday. For the second time.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Well?”
She batted her eyelashes at him. “I’m thinking it over.”
“Is that right?”
She shook her head, then laughed softly. “Silly. The answer is yes, of course.”
Mitch grunted. “Name the day.”
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“I don’t know. I may have to think it over.”
Alisha punched him on the arm. “Very funny, mister.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Did you mean it, about getting married tomorrow?”
“No. I’ll need a week or so to find a pattern and make a dress. How about a week from Sunday, if the preacher is available?”
Mitch nodded. “Guess that means new duds for the men in the family, too.”
Alisha smiled. In all the years she had known Mitch, she had never seen him in a suit and tie. It was a pleasant prospect. “You’ll need someone to stand up with you.”
He grunted softly. “I don’t have any friends in town, you know that.”
“Well, I’m going to ask Chloe to be my bridesmaid. I can ask Sylvester to be your best man, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind. I don’t care who else is there, as long as you show up.”
“I’ll be there.” She poked her finger into the center of his chest. “Just be sure you’re there!”
They broke the news at dinner that night.
“Are you not already married?” Rides the Buffalo asked. He looked at White Robe. “Red Shield married them.”
“That is true,” White Robe replied. “But they are going to be married again, according to the white man’s custom.”
Rides the Buffalo nodded, his expression thoughtful. “My father said I should think of taking a white man’s name. Do you think I should take a new name?”
“You come from two worlds,” White Robe said. “When you are with the People, you are Rides the Buffalo. I think it would be wise for you to have another name, one that reflects your white heritage, as well.”
Rides the Buffalo looked at Mitch. “I have told my father I would like to have his name.”
“Oh?” Alisha glanced at Mitch, a question in her eyes.
He shrugged. “We talked about it awhile back.”
“I have no objections,” Alisha said, smiling. “Mitch Garret, Junior, is the name I would have given you.”
“Junior?” Rides the Buffalo asked. “What is Junior?”
“Your father is senior, older, and you are junior, younger.”
Rides the Buffalo looked at his grandmother. “Do you like my new name?”
“Yes, very much.”
Rides the Buffalo glanc
ed around the table. “I will be Mitch Garret, Junior,” he declared.
Epilogue
Alisha sat on the sofa, nursing her seven-week-old daughter, Catherine Amanda. True to his word, Mitch had been there when their daughter entered the world. He had held Alisha’s hand, offering her encouragement, wiping the perspiration from her brow, kissing her between contractions.
Alisha smiled at her daughter. She was so beautiful, so perfect with her tawny skin and deep blue eyes. Her hair was black, like her father’s. So tiny, to hold such a big place in her mother’s heart.
Young Mitch adored his little sister. He spent hours holding her, telling her stories. Of course, in true grandmotherly fashion, White Robe also did her part to spoil the baby, but Alisha didn’t mind.
The ranch was home now. They had painted it inside and out, bought new furniture and carpets, filled the rooms with love and laughter that had chased all the old ghosts away.
Alisha sighed as she patted the baby’s back. She had never been as happy as she had been in this past year. Mitch had agreed to act as the sheriff until the town could find a new one, and he had collected a sizeable reward for catching a notorious bank robber. They had used the money to stock the ranch with cattle. At White Robe’s request, Mitch had built his mother a small house of her own. Two months ago, to her relief, the town had finally found a new sheriff.
In the summer, Red and his family were coming from St. Louis for a visit. Alisha couldn’t wait to meet Dorothy Clements. Right or wrong, she couldn’t help being curious about Red’s other wife.
Rising, Alisha walked to the back door and stepped out onto the porch. Mitch had bought their son a new horse, and she smiled as she watched Young Mitch put the animal through its paces. Only five years old, yet her son seemed so grown up. Every day, he looked more like his father.
White Robe sat in the shade, making a pair of moccasins for the baby. She looked up and smiled, then went back to her sewing.
Alisha looked at Mitch, her heart overflowing with love. He was everything she had ever hoped for, every dream come true.
He waved when he looked up and saw her watching him. And then he was walking toward her, his dark eyes alight with love and desire. As always, her heart beat a little faster when he was near, when she saw that look in his eyes. Warmth unfurled deep inside her.
Drawing close, Mitch slipped one arm around Alisha’s shoulders, then bent down to kiss the top of his daughter’s head. “How’s our angel doing?”
“She’s fine. Full and happy and ready for a nap, I think.”
“A nap, eh?” Mitch faked a yawn. “I’m feeling a little tired myself.” His gaze moved over her, hotter than the sun shining overhead. “How’d you like to put me to bed?”
Happiness welled up inside Alisha and spilled out in soft, joyous laughter as she took her husband by the hand. “My pleasure, as always,” she said.
And it was.
The End
About the Author
Madeline Baker started writing simply for the fun of it. Now she is the award-winning author of more than twenty books and one of the most popular writers of Native American romance. She lives in California, where she was born and raised.
The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Hawk’s Woman
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