Forbidden Fire

by Bonnie K. Winn

  Agreeing they needed to be out of sight and sound of all the protective eyes surrounding them, they also knew they didn’t want to find themselves locked away in a storeroom or office to achieve that privacy. After their last experience on the countryside at night, they decided to take their ride during the early morning hours, so they could arrive home far before dusk descended.

  They rode along at a good clip, eating up the miles between town and their destination at a fairly rapid rate. But before they reached the cabin, Katherine tugged impulsively on Jake’s sleeve.

  “Yes?” he asked, his attention still on the reins.

  “Could we stop?”

  “Here?”

  “Yes, the weather’s so perfect. It hasn’t been this warm since fall.”

  Unable to resist her happy grin, he complied, braking the sleigh and hobbling the horse. While thirty degrees could hardly be called warm, she was right. The temperature was higher than it had been in months.

  Katherine allowed him to help her down, then spun around in the crystal white fairyland, clapping in delight. Sun glinted on the miles of snow-covered plains, making it look like a bright carpet of diamond dust.

  “Happy?” he asked, an undefinable expression covering his face.

  “Incredibly. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “Yes,” he managed, far more beautiful than anything I’ve dreamed of. But it wasn’t the land that softened his gaze, allowing untold tenderness to creep into his eyes. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Katherine. And not only her incredible physical beauty stirred him, he knew. It was the kindness she extended naturally, her joy in the simplest pleasures.

  “Come on,” she called, scampering across the road despite the skirt that hampered her progress slightly as she picked it up to run.

  He followed, knowing if she were to ask him to walk with her to the Mississippi, he’d have gone gladly. Instead he crossed the road and looked at her expectantly. The twinkle in her eye should have warned him. Launching herself at him in a flying tackle, she managed to knock them both to the snowy ground before rolling away.

  Sputtering, he sat up and glared at her. “What was that for?”

  But she didn’t answer as she concentrated on making snow angels. In amazement he watched as she swept her arms and legs in graceful motion across the snow. He couldn’t remember how many years it had been since he’d been driven to do something so childish. But he realized it had been far too long. A vision of the distant, sophisticated woman he’d met when she had first arrived in Browning struck him forcefully. She’d hidden her true self very well, and he was inordinately glad that he’d pierced that shell.

  After completing the angel to her satisfaction, she eased up and then stood over him. “Well? Is that the best you can do?”

  Undaunted, he spread his long limbs in the snow, making a reputable-looking angel. When she bent to inspect it, he took advantage of her momentary distraction, whipping his arms around her and pulling her into the snow. Together they rolled across the banks of white, leaving a trail of swirling indentions.

  Gasping and out of breath they stared at each other, tiny puffs of breath vaporizing in the still cool air. Their lips when they met were chilled from the air yet faintly warm from exertion. The fit of their mouths was perfect as playfulness changed to tenderness.

  When they finally broke the contact, Jake stared into her dark eyes, realizing he didn’t want to spend another moment apart from this woman, knowing that the thought of her leaving in a matter of months or years was too painful to contemplate. He watched as she gently brushed the snow from his cheeks, her fingers lingering near his temples. Her own expression had sobered, and her gaze remained fixed on him.

  Lifting a hand, he gently touched her hair, wondering what he would do without her. As though the intensity of emotion was too much, she smiled tentatively, finally breaking his gaze. “Look what you’ve done!”

  He followed her pointing arm, smiling, too, as he saw the destroyed snow angels. “My angel beat up yours,” he said without remorse.

  “So I see. What are you going to do about it?”

  “Let them fight it out.” Getting to his feet, he bent and pulled her up with him.

  “Sounds reasonable. After the next snow they’ll hibernate until spring anyway.”

  Chuckling at her nonsense, he handed her back up into the sleigh.

  Holding her very close to his side, Jake flicked the reins, and they continued down the road toward the cabin. A few clouds scuttled across the sky, slightly dimming the brightness of the morning sun, but Katherine and Jake were encased in their own bubble of sunshine.

  The sight of the snug-looking house brought a smile to Katherine’s lips. If pressed, she would have to admit her feelings toward the small home were almost proprietary. At some point it had ceased being solely Jake’s cabin and seemed to belong to them both, in a way nothing else did.

  Eagerly they alighted, and Jake tied the horse to the railing before inspecting the exterior. Katherine saw that many of the outside logs had been reinforced and the chinks filled in. Sliding her eyes to the side, she could see that Jake wasn’t going to point out the improvements. His modesty was endearing. As he continued to putter outside, she opened the door, her heart filling at the simple loveliness he’d created here.

  Her eye was drawn immediately to the space above the hearth. As she approached, her steps slowed, her attention transfixed. Hung above the simple wooden mantel was a painting. While the distinctive background was immediately identifiable, it was the house that drew her. Jake’s house, the one she stood in now, filled the canvas. The warmth and loving they’d shared here seemed to leap from the brush strokes of the oils.

  She recognized Minerva’s sure style, and unexpected tears sprang to her eyes. Jake had obviously commissioned the painting, and she was almost certain of the reasoning behind it.

  Hearing a slight movement, she whirled around, meeting Jake’s eyes. His gaze wavered only long enough to flick toward the painting before returning to hers. The words were too painful to speak aloud.

  You had this painted in case I left.

  To remember you by.

  Swallowing a lump in her throat that threatened to be too large to manage, she moved toward him slowly. Passion was more than a rush of heat, she realized. It was the overwhelming desire to give herself to him that enveloped her, not smothering, not constricting, but allowing her to soar. When she reached him, Katherine couldn’t speak, drowning in all the words she needed and wanted to say.

  Offering her a lifeline, Jake brushed a few remaining snowflakes from her hair, his hand lingering as he did. Gentleness belied the strength in his hands, and her eyelids closed for a moment as she absorbed both. When his arms embraced her, there was no demand, no urgency, which made her own need that much greater.

  How could she leave this man? Knowing it would be easier to sever her arm from her body, Katherine ached with hurt and wrenching indecision. Still he stroked her hair tenderly, as though sensing the agony ripping through her. Pulling back for a moment, she scrutinized the darkening blue of his eyes. Pain rested there, she knew. A measure that matched her own.

  When he scooped her up in his arms, she rested her head trustingly against his shoulder as he carried her to the oversize rocking chair that was a new addition to the cabin. They sat together quietly, each offering comfort and neither able to receive it.

  Better than an hour passed before Katherine stirred, her body shivering in the wintry chill. The shadows darkening the windows seemed unusually long for midday.

  “Cold?”

  Nodding against his chest, she agreed, even though she hated to leave the circle of his arms. Reluctantly she rose and hugged her arms to warm them as Jake built a fire. Crisp kindling ignited the logs quickly, and Katherine turned to the cupboard, searching for coffee, a pot, and cups. Finding them, she ground the beans and then looked for the water. A full bucket sat next to the dry sink. She dipped enough water to fill the pot a
nd waited for Jake to attach it to the hook hanging from the hearth, knowing it would take far too long to heat up the cooking stove.

  As the coffee boiled, Katherine was able to smile finally at Jake. It wasn’t a broad smile, but rather a gentle one that acknowledged the hope that had flowed between them as they sat together. The cabin warmed rapidly, and soon the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air.

  While Jake added more logs to the fire, Katherine strolled over to the window. Her gasp of surprise overrode the crackle of the now steadily burning fire.

  “What is it?” Jake asked. She could only point out the window. Dark billowing clouds roared across the sky, dumping huge drifts of snow on the ground. A white blanket of unexpected moisture flew past the window. The snow seemed to come down sideways, Katherine realized in dismayed surprise. Cyclone force gusts of wind flung the suddenly dense piles of snow fiercely into the open plains.

  Jake turned away and forced open the door. Driving wind pummeled sheets of snow across the empty spaces, obscuring everything in its path. Before closing the door, he gauged the accumulation of snow. “Better than three inches in ten minutes,” he muttered.

  “Are you sure?”

  His face was grim. “I looked out the window before I started building the fire. Snow hadn’t started yet.”

  The meaning of the words sunk in. This was no ordinary snowstorm. She watched as Jake snatched up his coat and donned it, then secured his muffler across his face.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have to get the horse in the barn.”

  Knowing he could easily get lost in the short distance that separated the barn from the house, Katherine wanted to protest that he couldn’t leave. But he opened a trunk, uncoiling a length of rope.

  Cinching it around his waist, he looked at her in encouragement. “I’ll tie the other end to the rail on the porch.”

  Katherine swallowed her fear and nodded her understanding. When he pulled the door open, the wind knocked into them both, riffling through the cabin and blowing most of the lightweight items from the table. Even the coffee spilled from its cups onto the table from the force of the wind.

  Struggling against the strength of the gales, Jake fought his way to the horse. The animal stood sturdily despite the force beating against him, but he couldn’t last that way for long. Unhitching the beast, Jake grasped the bridle and pushed his way toward the barn, relieved when the doors flapped shut behind them. Finding hay with which to rub the horse down, Jake readied the animal for the night, then filled the trough with fresh winter feed and oats.

  Jake took a deep breath, and opened the doors, then went out into the storm. Tugging at the doors that flapped and then whipped out of his hands, he finally pushed them shut, securing them with the heavy piece of wood that fell into the latch. Battling his way back to the house, Jake’s body swayed in the overpowering gusts. He shouldered the door open, and the wind nearly blew him into Katherine’s arms as she stood anxiously waiting.

  As he shoved the door closed, she scurried to take the quilt from the bed. Jake shrugged off his wet coat and muffler and accepted the warm quilt, glad to be inside the secure walls of the cabin. The temperature had plunged at least forty degrees since that morning. He knew that unexpected warmth came before a storm. Cursing his own stupidity, Jake realized he should have recognized all the classic symptoms of a storm. And judging from what was blowing outside, it had turned into a full-fledged blizzard. Sleet pounded against the windows, and the chill crept inside despite the fire.

  Accepting the mug of steaming coffee, Jake sipped the hot liquid gratefully, glad that he’d thought to stack a huge supply of timber in the wood box.

  “Is the horse all right?” Katherine asked, unable to mask her concern.

  Jake nodded as he took another sip. Swallowing, he felt a trickle of fire lick toward his belly and realized Katherine had added a splash of bourbon to the coffee. He welcomed its warmth. “He’ll be fine. Nothing can get at him in the barn.”

  When he looked up he met the fright spelled out in her eyes. In an instant he shared the same thought that probably scared her. Wolves. Relieved to have stabled the horse, he could assure her they were out of danger. Putting his arms around her, he pulled her close, feeling the trembling she couldn’t conceal.

  “We’re safe here. So’s the horse. We’ll wait the storm out, and if it’s dark, we won’t set out for town till morning.”

  “But what will people think?”

  “If we’re both alive, I won’t care.”

  The fright in her expression started to subside when suddenly her eyes grew wider. “If we’d decided not to have coffee and left a few minutes earlier, we’d be out in the middle of the storm.”

  He couldn’t refute her words. Two brushes with death heightened their sense of mortality, their realization of how precious each day was that they had left to share. The coffee was forgotten as he plunked the cup down, reaching out for a reassurance of life.

  Ripping the quilt away, Jake fastened his lips to Katherine’s, feeling the matching frenzy of her response. Clothes were suddenly a barrier that couldn’t stand between them. Short of shredding the material, they pulled and yanked the garments out of the way.

  Despite the still cool air, their flesh was fevered. Jake trailed his hands over her silky skin, trying to absorb its texture, memorize each inch. Knowing the time was fleeing even as he touched her, Jake wanted to secure his hold, ensure that she wouldn’t disappear like a mercurial nymph while in his arms.

  Katherine accepted the crush of his embrace greedily. Her desperation matched his. Gasping at his fullness, she arched when he plunged inside. He filled her with deep strokes, and she met each one. As though he were trying to meld them together permanently, each move he made sealed them closer. The snow continued to shroud the cabin, shutting away the rest of the world. For now, nothing and no one stood between them.

  Chapter 39

  The morning dawned bright and beautiful. Waking up next to Jake was a luxury Katherine hadn’t anticipated. Rays of sunshine played over his face, and she needed considerable restraint not to smooth her fingers over the chiseled planes that radiated strength even in repose. Lines of strain that had been etched beside his mouth since they met now seemed to disappear as he rested. She wondered what it would take to erase them permanently. As she speculated, his eyelids opened. Adjusting to the strange surroundings, he turned to her in an instant. Her breath caught for a moment at what she saw in his eyes.

  Their lips touched with familiarity and pleasure. The warm curve of their mouths fit perfectly, and Katherine breathed in his scent with a sigh. Ripe with satisfaction, replete with love, she wished she could stay within the safe haven that had allowed such happiness. But as the sun poked insistent beams through the window, she knew the idyll had ended. They’d been fortunate; many blizzards lasted for days without ceasing. Looking at the sunshine, however, she wondered. Somehow, she doubted they could take the perfection of the moment with them.

  Gathering her scattered clothing, Katherine wasn’t surprised when Jake nuzzled her neck from behind, the play of his fingers causing her to drop the garments to the floor unnoticed. Slow, luxuriant loving must be paramount to perfection, she decided as the sun rose higher in the sky, and still they lingered.

  When they finally dressed, regret hung between them as they secured the cabin. Katherine smoothed the coverings over the bed, and picked up the rose-patterned quilt. The down in the quilt still captured the essence of their body heat. Reluctant to lose the sense of oneness she’d felt on the bed with Jake, she grasped the material in her hand before slowly folding it and deliberately storing it away in the cedar-lined trunk.

  Outside the day was fresh with new promise, as though the blizzard had cleaned the air and left behind a new, untouched carpet of white on the land. The incredibly high drifts of snow and overturned storage bins, however, were evidence of the storm’s destructive potential. Jake readied the horse and hitched up th
e sleigh as Katherine gazed at their hideaway. Knowing that as soon as they left she would be faced with censorious criticism, she delayed the moment as long as possible.

  “We really should get started,” Jake reminded her.

  She glanced at the cabin one last time. “I know.”

  “This doesn’t have to be an ending, Katherine.”

  Closing her eyes for a moment, imagining the possibility, Katherine didn’t answer. When Jake offered his hand, she accepted it, not able to meet the question in his eyes, knowing her answer was still as elusive as before.

  The ride toward town was far too short. Katherine’s eyes widened as she stared at the effects of the storm. Huge piles of snow were banked against the buildings. With little between the open plains and town, the snow had blown across the empty land to pile up against barns, buildings, and woodpiles. The huge drifts were six and eight feet deep. Few people were out on the streets as Jake guided the horses down the only road. Those who saw them raised eyebrows and were openly curious, but no one threw any stones. They were too busy cleaning up after the storm.

  Pulling up at the churchyard, Jake set the brake and turned toward her. “Do you want me to go inside with you?”

  “No. Any explanations will have to be mine.” She thought of Morgan and Beth, their worry and condemnation.

  As Jake helped her down, the back door to the saloon burst open. Beth streaked toward them, nearly knocking Katherine down when she reached her.

  Instinctively Katherine embraced her sister, looking helplessly at Jake while Beth cried, her words coming out between gulps and sobs. “We thought you were caught in the storm. I didn’t know if you were dead.”

  “Well, we’re not.” Katherine lifted Beth’s tear-streaked face. “Luckily we found shelter in a cabin and then waited until morning to head back.” She’d told the truth, even if she had left out some very critical details.