“Sadie and I were planning to drive into town, Cait. Would you like to come with us?”
“I need to ride over to the reservation to talk to the agent about that teaching position, Ma.”
“Gabe, can you ride with Caitlin today?” Elizabeth asked. “Michael, you won’t mind if he doesn’t work the two-year-olds today?”
“Not at all, a ghra. I’d not want ye going alone, Caitlin.”
“Da, you don’t have to pull Mr. Hart away from the horses. It’s only five miles or so,” protested Cait.
“I’d feel better if ye weren’t ridin’ alone yet, Cait. Ye’ll go, Gabe?”
“Of course I’ll go, sir.”
Cait was hanging over the pasture fence looking longingly at Sky when Gabe led their horses out. “I thought I’d be riding him all summer,” she said wistfully as she turned and walked over to Snowflake. She rubbed the mare’s freckled muzzle. “Don’t be insulted, Snowflake, but you are not really my horse.”
Gabe handed her the reins and after she mounted looked over at her and said, “I think he’ll be ready in a few days, Miss Cait. You may well be riding him before the summer is over.”
Her eyes lit up. “Do you really think so?”
“I do.”
They rode in silence for a while and then as they got closer to the agency, Gabe said: “You really want this job, don’t you?”
“Teaching is what I’ve always wanted to do.”
“Yes, but it was a different kind of teaching you were talking about when Sadie arrived, I recall.”
Cait was quiet for a moment. “I guess I want to do something that gives to people, Mr. Hart. One of my teachers at Fayreweather was a real inspiration to me. She made me notice the women in the books I was reading, not just the men. I wanted to inspire other girls the way she did me.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll be doing that kind of teaching here. Most of your pupils won’t even understand English.”
“No, but they will need to learn it in order to survive. And while I am teaching them my language, I can offer them respect for their ways. If they went away to an Indian school, they would be stripped of all that makes them Dine.”
“Dine?”
“That is the Navajo word for the People.”
“And we aren’t?” asked Gabe with a short laugh.
“Many Indian tribes have named themselves something similar,” admitted Cait, “so I guess it isn’t just white men they feel superior to. What do you think about Indians, Mr. Hart?”
“I haven’t thought too much about them at all,” Gabe confessed. “When I was little, Grandpa used to tell stories about fighting the Comanche. They sure seemed a bloodthirsty bunch, from what he told us. On the other hand,” Gabe continued thoughtfully, “I remember him telling us about one little boy who was captured when he was five. When they rescued him at fourteen, he was pure Comanche. In fact, Grandpa said he didn’t consider himself rescued, but kidnapped, so they must have treated him well.”
“My Da fought Indians with the army, of course,” said Cait. “But when he came to New Mexico and was made to remove the Navajo from their land, he decided to leave the army rather than continue doing what he felt was wrong. Every few years, when I was growing up, we’d go and visit our Dine friends, Serena and Antonio and their family.”
“Then you would be a real good teacher for these Navajo kids, Miss Cait.”
“I hope so, Mr. Hart.”
When they reached the small agency office, Gabe waited outside. He’d never thought much about Indians before. He was no Indian hater, but he’d pretty much taken for granted that it was destiny that white settlers, who knew how to use the land, had more of a right to it. He suspected that Caitlin Burke would not share this view. She obviously had a more intimate understanding of what it had meant to at least one Navajo family. He admired her determination and idealism. His ma had been like that about teaching and so was Sadie. It seemed very right that he would end up loving a woman so like the strong women in his family.
It had been oppressively hot when they started out, but Gabe realized that a breeze had come up while he was sitting there. He looked east and saw that the sky was getting blacker by the minute over the mountains and the horses were moving restlessly where he had tied them. It was coming to the end of thunderstorm season, but it seemed like one hell of a storm was brewing.
He was just about to knock on the agency door when Cait came out with the agent. They were both looking very pleased, so he assumed she’d gotten the job.
“Oh, Mr. Hart,” she said, a big smile on her face, “Mr. Brookner has just agreed to hire me for the second term.”
“That’s grand news, Miss Cait, but we’d better be getting back before this storm hits.”
Cait’s expression changed as soon as she saw the clouds. She knew what was coming. “Thank goodness we’re not that far from the ranch,” she said. “We’ve got to be off, Mr. Brookner,” she added, turning and shaking his hand.
“Are you sure you both don’t want to take shelter here?” the agent offered.
“I think we can outrun it,” Gabe replied. “And I want to get back and make sure the horses are all right.”
“Good luck, then,” Brookner called out as they wheeled their horses and took off at a canter. After two miles, Gabe pulled the horses in. Despite their run, it was hard to keep them to a slow trot as the great claps of thunder grew louder and closer.
“I love thunderstorms,” said Cait with a big smile as she turned back and saw a bolt of lightning split the sky and seem to touch one of the mesas.
Gabe looked back and grinned. He could see how quickly the rain was moving toward them. “I like them too, Miss Cait, but I’m not so fond of what they can do. Another few minutes and that rain is going to be on top of us. We’ll hold the horses in a few minutes more, but when I say so, ride like hell!” Cait grinned back and when Gabe yelled “Now!” she clapped her heels to Snowflake’s sides and the mare took off.
It was a close race. They could feel the cool air behind them and even hear the rain hitting the ground. The storm finally caught them just at the ranch gate and in one moment, they were both drenched.
Cait laughed aloud as the thunder sounded over their heads and the horses flattened out in a run. When they reached the corral, she slid off Snowflake and lifted her face to the downpour. She felt like the rain was washing away all the doubts and guilt that had beset her this summer and she felt free and clear at last.
“Don’t be a damn fool, Miss Cait. Get your horse into the barn,” Gabe yelled. They all just got inside when a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder seemed to occur simultaneously and the old hitching post next to the corral was split in half.
“Oh my God,” exclaimed Cait, her eyes wide in disbelief. “That could have been one of us or the horses!”
“It almost was. What the hell were you doing, just standing out there like it was a shower?” Gabe was shaken to the core at the thought of her reckless behavior. He’d seen a cow struck by lightning once and he shivered at the memory.
“There is no need to yell at me, Mr. Hart. We are all inside and safe,” replied Cait, now as angry as he was. “I wasn’t standing there that long.”
Gabe took a deep breath to calm himself. “I’ve seen an animal killed in a storm not half as bad as this one,” he explained, his anger now under control.
“That must have been a terrible thing,” replied Cait. “But the rain felt so good after the heat today….” She stood there, her hair plastered to her head and her shirt sticking to her skin, revealing every lovely curve, and Gabe realized there was more than one way a storm could be exciting.
Cait smiled at him. “Just look at us, soaked to the skin.”
“I am trying my best not to look,” muttered Gabe, as he turned and busied himself with the horses.
Cait looked down at herself and blushed. She had worn her lightest blouse this morning and the cotton might as well have been gauze, she re
alized. When Gabe turned, she was still standing there, beginning to shiver a little. “I have a dry shirt in the tack room,” he told her. “You look uh, cold, Miss Cait.”
“Thank you,” she whispered and walked back to the tack room. With shaking hands she unbuttoned her blouse and stripped it off. Her chemise was soaked too, so she pulled that over her head and looked around for the shirt.
“I don’t see the shirt, Mr. Hart. Do you remember where you left it?” she called.
“It should be right there. I’ll find it,” he said and before Cait could think to say anything he was standing in the doorway. She froze like a deer caught in torchlight, her hands across her breasts, trying to keep them hidden.
She thought maybe she knew, after all, what it would be like to be struck by lightning. The force between them was so strong that she was surprised she didn’t turn into a pile of ash right then and there. She was as helpless against the pull as she had been before.
Gabe’s hand reached out and touched the line of her jaw. Her hands fell from her breasts and she reached out to put her hands on his chest. He couldn’t tell if she was pushing him away or holding on for dear life. All he knew was how much he wanted her. There was an old pallet in the corner of the room and he very slowly backed her over to it and sitting down, pulled her after him. His hand reached down to cup her breast and she whispered, “No, Gabe.”
It was pure torture, but he pulled away and said, “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, Cait.”
The trouble was, of course, that she wanted him to caress her breast. She put her hand on top of his and guided it back. He traced her breast gently and then cupped it, caressing the nipple with his thumb.
“Oh, Gabe…” she murmured.
When he lowered his mouth to hers, she let herself fall back on the cot, for the wood she had been leaning against was rough against her bare shoulders. It seemed their kiss went on forever, but when he pulled away, she realized forever wasn’t nearly long enough.
“Do you know what you are doing to me?” said Gabe, his voice low and strained.
“I don’t care,” she whispered and then moaned with pleasure as he kissed her breast. “But wait, Gabe,” she added, and he pulled back again, only to realize that she was reaching up to unbutton his shirt. It was hard, because the material was wet and her fingers were trembling, and when he saw what she was doing he ripped open the last button and pulled it off.
Her hand was at his chest again, but this time there was no doubt; she wasn’t pushing him away, but running her fingers through the silver-blond hair and tracing the line that went from sternum down his hard, flat stomach to the waistband of his jeans.
If she went any further, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, he thought in ecstatic despair. When she started to pull the buttons of his pants open, he pushed her fingers away and shifted them so they were lying side by side. He kissed her again, hoping to distract her. But as he was kissing, he could feel her hand running down his chest once again.
This time he helped her. He had to, for he was so hard that his wet pants were uncomfortably tight. It was a relief when they were finally open and he was free of the pressure from the metal buttons.
Cait had grown up on a ranch and she had seen plenty of examples of maleness over the years. So she was not completely surprised at what she felt when Gabe unbuttoned his jeans. Obviously, a man would grow larger, just like other animals. What did surprise her was how lovely and soft something so rigid and male felt under her fingers, and the stirrings of desire in a part of her body she hadn’t been much aware of up till now. She wanted to pull him down on top of her, pull him into her, although it wasn’t quite clear to her how that might be done. Instinctively, she arched her body up to meet his.
When Gabe felt that soft pressure against him, he finally came to his senses. He pulled back and said: “Cait, I should never have let things get this out of hand.” My God, here he was, ready to mount her as though she were just anyone and not the one he loved. Not to mention Michael Burke’s daughter. He turned away and tried to get himself back into his pants, but they were so wet he couldn’t button them, so he gave up and just pulled his shirt back on.
She lay there, looking so disappointed that he almost laughed out loud. She was a passionate woman, though what good that would do him, he didn’t know. Here she was, looking up at him wistfully, as if to say “Why did you stop, Gabe?” rather than being outraged that he’d even begun.
He got up and found the shirt he’d sent her in for. “Here, you’d best put this on before I lose control all over again.”
“I wish you would,” she whispered as she sat up and slipped her arms into the soft cotton.
“I know, though I can’t understand why! Here you are, raised like a lady and about to lose your virginity in a tack room.”
He hadn’t meant it as a criticism of her, but Cait heard it as a comment on her shameful behavior. Obviously it was all right for him to kiss her passionately and stroke her breasts, but she should have protested and pushed him away. Instead, and she blushed almost purple as she remembered it, she had actually kissed him back as passionately and caressed a part of him she probably was supposed to pretend she didn’t know about! She felt utterly humiliated.
“I am not sure what came over me, Mr. Hart,” she responded in what she hoped was a dignified manner. “Perhaps it was the storm. It won’t happen again, I promise you.”
“It can’t,” said Gabe vehemently. “I can’t repay your parents’ kindness to me by seducing their daughter! And I can’t marry you,” he added.
Cait didn’t know what she’d been thinking, beyond wanting the incredible pleasure his kisses and caresses had brought her never to end. She certainly hadn’t been thinking of marriage. She’d just made one mistake in that direction, thinking she loved a man who could not answer her passion. She didn’t want to make another mistake so soon after, thinking she loved a man because he could respond to her. Surely she didn’t love Gabe Hart, nor want to be married to him, she told herself. Especially, she thought, her heart sinking, when he said he couldn’t marry her. She supposed that meant that he didn’t love her either.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Hart, marriage to you is the last thing I’d be thinking of.” She stood up and with as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances, said: “It sounds like the storm is over. I’d best get inside and change my clothes. You might want to do the same, Mr. Hart,” she added and walked out of the room without looking back.
Gabe stood there feeling utterly ridiculous. Damn it, how had he bungled things so? Not that she could ever care for him, but to get them both so hot and then blurt out a foolish thing like of course he couldn’t marry her. Just why had that popped out of his mouth?
He guessed that however stupid he sounded, he had saved them both from further foolishness. He loved Caitlin Burke. God knew he loved and wanted her. But if she wasn’t for him, at least this awkwardness would break the attraction that flowed between them.
* * * *
It took Cait a long time to get to sleep that night because she could not stop thinking of what had happened in the barn. She could feel herself grow warm with desire again as she remembered how Gabe had kissed and caressed her. Then, as she thought of her own behavior, she became even hotter with humiliation. Why was it that Henry, for whom she had felt a great affection, had never been able to give her what she wanted, while Gabe Hart, a man she hardly knew, had her pulling his pants down as though she were the town whore! Whatever must he think of her?
But she did know Gabe, she would remind herself. They had grown to be friends; he had been kind to her. She respected his way with horses and she admired him for his loyalty to her father. But respect and liking and admiration and attraction didn’t necessarily add up to love, did they? If only she could talk to her mother about this. But it was one thing to tell her ma that Henry did not meet her need for passion. It was quite another to say: “Ma, I almost let Gabe Hart make
love to me in the tack room. And the only reason we didn’t is that he stopped us. Does that mean I love him, Ma?”
It had been embarrassing enough to face him after their kisses behind the barn. But today they had become intimate in a way usually reserved for marriage. And Gabe Hart had made it perfectly clear that he was not thinking of marriage. Caitlin wondered what it would be like to be married to him and be free to explore his body and have him explore hers. Then it would start all over again, the cycle of desire, humiliation, and confusion. She didn’t fall asleep until at least three in the morning.
* * * *
“You look tired this morning, Cait,” her mother said as they got breakfast ready. “Didn’t you sleep well?”
Cait concentrated on placing the silverware on the table just so and said: “I guess I was just too excited about getting the job, Ma.”
Elizabeth looked over at her daughter and smiled. “I am so proud of you, Cait. I am sure you will do a wonderful job with those children.”
“I hope so, Ma. I guess I’m as nervous as I am excited.”
Sadie overheard their exchange as she came in. “I remember my first year teaching, Cait,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “I was only sixteen and a half and one of my pupils, Jeb Turner, was a foot taller than me at fourteen! I was sure I’d never get him to mind me.”
“How did you handle him?” Cait asked curiously.
“Actually, I didn’t have to,” Sadie admitted. “He got a huge crush on me so he did everything I wanted. It was the ten-year-olds that had me in tears every day when I came home! But by the end of the year, I’d learned how to keep control.”
“I don’t know that I have to worry about Dine children misbehaving,” Cait said thoughtfully. “More likely the challenge will be getting them to trust me.”
Discussing her fears about teaching had distracted her from her dread of seeing Gabe again. But it turned out she needn’t have worried after all, for when her Da came in he explained that Gabe had grabbed some biscuits earlier that morning and was riding up to the sheep meadow.
* * * *
Journey of the Heart Page 24