by Jane Toombs
Shane put away his knife, brushed the wood shavings from his jeans, rose and ambled over to sit cross-legged on his sleeping bag. He put what he’d carved to his lips, blowing into it, coaxing a melody from what she realized now was a wooden flute. How clever he was.
“What’s that tune?” she asked
He paused long enough to say, “I’m making one up—the way a man is supposed to when he woos a fair maiden with his love flute.”
A thrill tingled through her at his words. She listened to the plaintive notes, feeling them infuse her with warmth, enjoying the wooing.
The moon chose that moment to become visible through the branches of the cottonwoods. In silence they watched it rise higher, casting silver light over all. Sighing, Laura lay back and stared up at the moon. Moon madness. Moon magic. She’d best be careful not to let those silvery rays lure her into behavior she’d regret—never mind how much she yearned to touch him.
Shane stopped playing and eased down onto his sleeping bag. Raising onto one elbow, he looked down at Laura, radiant in the moonlight. She glanced at him, their gazes crossed, caught and held. He heard her catch her breath. Slowly, slowly, her hand came up to his cheek.
“Shane?” His name was no more than a whisper.
He bent his head, his lips finding hers, meaning to hold himself in check. But once he tasted the sweetness of her mouth he was lost. The next he knew, he held her tightly, the kiss deep and demanding.
As he reached for control, he realized her arms had come up to hold him to her and her lips, under his, returned his kiss. Trying to curb the heat that shot through him at the realization she was responding, he coaxed her lips apart, catching her sigh in his mouth.
He needed more, needed to touch her, to caress her, to feel the softness of her breasts under his hands. The buttons on her shirt opened under his fingers, and she drew in her breath when his hand covered her breast.
But then she pulled away from him, averting her face while she fumbled with the buttons of her shirt.
He’d moved too fast, he decided, and sighed. It looked to be a long night ahead.
When she had her shirt closed again, he said, “Scared?”
“I—no. But—”
Tiring of waiting for the rest, he asked, “But you didn’t enjoy what we were doing?”
“I don’t think I want to answer that,” she said.
Aha. She had enjoyed it and didn’t want to lie. “Then why stop?”
“Because I—you—” Again she paused, finally blurting, “Stop asking questions!”
“Either you don’t want to tell me or you don’t know,” he said.
No answer.
Shane gave up and lay back on his sleeping bag, looking up at the stars.
“Why must you always probe?” she asked after a time.
“Because I need to know how you feel, what makes you tick. It’s like when I pick up a piece of wood for carving. I can’t see right away what’s hiding inside the wood. I need to look at and touch it many times before what lives in there lets me know what kind of animal it is.”
“What’s that have to do with me?”
“I can’t see what’s hiding inside you, either. I want to, but you won’t let me.”
“Maybe that’s because I don’t care to be carved into what you perceive me to be.”
He turned his head to look at her. “No, you’d rather hide. But do you understand I don’t carve what I want to from the wood? The result would be faulty. It’s becoming aware of what that piece of wood can be that makes any carving successful. I’m not trying to force you into anything.”
After a long silence, she said, “You’re right. It’s always easier to blame someone else. The problem is mine, not yours.”
He waited, hoping she’d go on to rid herself of what troubled her, but when she spoke, she changed the subject, running away again.
“Have the Paiutes always lived on this land?”
“If you’re asking were my people—the Numa—displaced, yes and no. Like all the early tribes, they were nomadic, living part of the year in one place and part in another. But Pyramid Lake was one of the places.”
“It must feel to you as though you belong here.”
What was she getting at? “I’ve always felt that way, yes. As much because of the people around me as the land, though.”
“I don’t belong anywhere.” She spoke flatly. “Sometimes I think I never will.”
He couldn’t assure her the time would come when she would because he felt she had to let go of what troubled her before she’d be ready to find her place.
Before he could come up with anything positive, she said, “Good night, Shane,” and turned her back to him.
He’d been right. It turned out to be a very long night.
After taking forever to fall asleep, Laura woke when the sky began to lighten. When she saw Shane not only wasn’t in his sleeping bag next to her, but that the bag itself was gone, she sat up and looked around. Reassured by the tempting odor of coffee that he hadn’t completely deserted her, she stood up, ran her fingers through her hair and picked up her boots.
With any luck they’d find the bachelor herd today and she’d be able to tally them so she wouldn’t be facing another night camp with Shane beside her, near enough to touch if she reached out. If only he knew how hard it had been for her to turn away from what he offered last night.
Tonight the moon would be even brighter, but the moonlight wasn’t to blame. What she felt came from deep within her, a demand that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to deny much longer. She’d never expected to be gripped by such a need. Of course she knew what it was. Physical attraction. Shane had more allure than any man should be allowed to possess, and she wasn’t allure-proof, not where he was concerned.
Later, when they were mounted and riding side by side, she said, “Do you think we’ll spot the bachelors today?”
He shrugged. “Even though I know their habits, with mustangs it’s a crapshoot—you never know if they’ll really show up where you expect them to.”
By mid-afternoon, when Shane hadn’t spotted any sign of the smaller herd, Laura told herself if it was a crapshoot, then this wasn’t her lucky day. It looked very much like another night’s camp was in the offing.
Once again, he chose a spot by the stream, early enough so the two of them could wade in the water before there was any chance of the mustangs coming for their evening drink. She watched enviously as Shane shucked off his shirt and splashed water onto his bare chest and shoulders.
“You can do the same,” he told her. “I won’t watch if you don’t want me to.”
The thought of him watching her strip to the waist brought back the feeling of his hand cupping her breast. An image rose in her mind of him catching her in his arms, her naked breasts pressed against his bare skin. How would that feel? She didn’t know, but she realized with dismay how desperately she wanted to find out.
Because she wore a T-shirt underneath, she finally took off her long-sleeved shirt and splashed water onto her arms, telling herself firmly it would be madness to get any more involved with Shane than she already was.
Dusk came and went without any mustangs appearing. Inevitably, the moon rose, drenching them with silver light. Shane stretched out on his sleeping bag and closed his eyes. She watched him warily, denying her disappointment there was to be no love music tonight.
He was more or less making it obvious if anything happened, it wouldn’t be at his instigation. He certainly couldn’t expect it to be at hers, so maybe the truth was he just didn’t care one way or the other.
Still sitting up on her bag, she scowled down at him. He hadn’t even said good-night. Plopping down onto her bag, she told herself it didn’t matter.
“I take it we aren’t going to feel the earth move?” he said.
Confused, she said, “What?”
He opened his eyes, turning his head to look at her. “Not a Hemingway fan?”
She didn’t have a clue w
hat he meant.
Apparently her expression told him that, because he gave her a half-smile. “Let’s hope the time comes when I can explain that, and you’ll know what I mean.”
From somewhere in the distance a coyote began singing to the moon. “Reminding us the Trickster is keeping an eye on us,” he said.
“Hemingway and the Trickster are not in my ballpark.”
“All Native American cultures have Tricksters to remind us that when you think you have the world by the tail, it turns out to be Trickster’s tail. He jerks it away, and the joke’s on you.”
“I understand the concept, but not your usage.”
“Take us,” he said. “Here we are under muha patseponia—a full moon—and what are we doing? Listening to the coyotes, that’s what.”
As she understood the meaning behind what he was saying, her breath caught. He wanted to do exactly what he’d done last night. Exactly what she wanted him to do.
Because she knew what the consequences would be, she had to swallow twice before she could get the words out. “Well, you could kiss me good-night.”
For a long moment he didn’t move, and then suddenly she was in his arms, his lips on hers, the kiss both coaxing and demanding, luring her farther into desire, into the need for more.
He hadn’t replaced his shirt and she could feel the ripple of his back muscles under his smooth bare skin, reminding her of how powerful he was. Instead of feeling fear, it excited her. He didn’t frighten her because she trusted him, knowing he’d never harm her. He could, but he wouldn’t. Not Shane.
As his hands slipped under her T-shirt to caress her breasts, she ceased to think clearly, trapped within the web of passion he evoked, only able to feel an increasingly wild abandon.
Everything except Shane became unreal. There was no time, no place, just the two of them. She longed to stay here forever but the need rising in her made her want more.
She had no idea of how or when they both lost their clothes, but she was exquisitely aware of the wonder of his skin against hers. His touch was gentle but arousing as he caressed her everywhere so that she melted inside.
And then he joined with her, giving her what she hadn’t known she wanted, taking her with him into a place she’d never been, one she hadn’t dreamed existed.
As Shane held her afterward, he realized, as he’d half-expected, she’d been a virgin. He’d violated the agreement he’d signed, but it had certainly been with her encouragement and cooperation, no doubt about that.
“Shane?” she murmured after a time.
“Hmm?”
“I told you the moon was dangerous.”
He chuckled, tightening his hold. “So it is. Are you sorry?”
“No. Yes. Oh, I don’t know.” She snuggled against him. “How can I answer that when I’m not even sure how it happened. Or if it should have.”
“You have to admit it was perfectly legal.”
“But I didn’t mean for us to—” She bogged down.
“Make love? That’s what husbands and wives do.”
“Yes, but not us. This isn’t a real marriage.”
Her words cut into him like a knife, making him release her and sit up. “If it isn’t, just what the hell do you think it is?” he growled.
She sat up, too, grabbing her shirt to cover her bare breasts. “We made an agreement—”
“Which we’ve already violated.”
“I don’t mean that paper I made you sign. We agreed that once you retained custody of Sage, we’d be free to go our separate ways.”
Though the night was still warm, Shane felt as though he was encased in ice. “That’s wrong.” His words were involuntary. “You wanted this as much as I did.”
She bit her lip. “I couldn’t help it. Being with you like this—” She paused. “Actually I didn’t know I was capable of lust,” she finished.
“Lust,” he repeated, wondering if that’s all it had been. He wasn’t sure, and he realized he didn’t care to explore the possibility it might have been something else. Something more.
One thing he did know. If she thought she was going to get away from him easily, she was damn well mistaken.
Chapter Nine
Riding back to the house the next morning, Laura was too preoccupied with what had happened the night before to try to start a conversation. Whether Shane felt the same or not, she didn’t know, but he, too, rode in silence.
She couldn’t bring herself to admit it was a mistake she wouldn’t make again, because that would be a lie. The truth was she was more aware of him than ever and in a different way. Back East, her women co-workers had sighed over how sexy certain men were, going into what she’d felt was unnecessary detail about certain outstanding physical characteristics. She’d never understood why, but she did now.
Shane was a magnificent male specimen in the same way the black stallion was. That didn’t mean, though, that she intended to allow their relationship to deepen. What if she got so involved she couldn’t bear to leave? She might no longer be afraid of him, but what could happen to her was scary. Experience had taught her it didn’t pay to grow too fond of anything or anybody.
And yet she wanted him to hold her again, to kiss her. She wanted to make love with him. A sigh welled up from her heart. How had she gotten herself into this anyway?
When she glanced at Shane, she saw he was frowning—actually more of a scowl. Not at her or at anything she could see ahead, so it must be at his thoughts. Was he regretting the night? She wished she knew.
To get relief from going over and over the same thing in her mind, she groped for something to say and fastened on where they’d be going later today. “Did I ever tell you how my brother and his wife came to adopt Tim?” she asked.
“You didn’t even tell me about your brother until shortly before he showed up,” Shane retorted, sounding definitely grumpy.
Deciding to skip over that omission, she said, “Nathan and Jade actually met each other and Tim at the same time.” She went on to describe the car accident Tim had been in and the circumstances that had forced her brother and his not-then-wife together as they tried to take care of the little boy who wouldn’t tell them who he was.
“You’re saying you don’t think the two of them would have married if it hadn’t been for Tim?” Shane asked.
She nodded. “I don’t mean they married so they could adopt him, but the forced togetherness made them realize they were—well, I suppose you might say meant for each other.”
He slanted her a look. “Do you believe they were?”
“I think so, yes. My brother was involved in a disastrous marriage—his ex-wife was impossible—so he’d made up his mind never to walk down the aisle again. Jade’s nothing like that horrible woman.”
“Meant for each other,” he repeated. “Easy to say.”
“For them it was true,” she said defensively.
“So it follows the same must be true for others?”
She glared at him. “I don’t know! Why must you always back me into a corner?”
He gestured at the sagebrush-covered land around them. “Not a corner in sight. Why do you always retreat and shut yourself off? You said you weren’t afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you!” Her voice rose. “I just want to be left alone.”
Shane decided to back off. If she got any more upset, the visit with the Walkers might prove even more awkward than he suspected it might be. Last night she’d given him a part of herself, an experience he’d remember all his life. But what about the hidden rest of her?
Probing didn’t work. Companionship didn’t, either. Not even lovemaking, great though that had been. She guarded whatever secret that made her so fearful as though it were more valuable than Fort Knox gold.
He wondered if her brother might have a clue. Even if Nathan did, though, he wouldn’t be about to reveal anything to a man he figured had conned his sister into getting married.
As for the lovemaking—S
hane smiled at the memory of her passion, both surprising and infinitely arousing. Yet afterward, she’d retreated from him as fast as she could backpedal.
“I’m looking forward to meeting Tim,” he said, as neutral a statement as he could come up with and fairly truthful. He’d already met her brother and, though he hoped their relationship would become more cordial, he wasn’t laying any bets.
“I wish we could bring Grandfather along this evening,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because he has a way of saying things that makes everyone stop and think.”
“Wait until he starts telling you ancient Paiute legends. Sometimes the point is so obscure even I have trouble locating it. And I grew up on the stories.”
“Maybe that’s on purpose—to make you keep trying to find the meaning.”
Shane shrugged. “He’s a devious old man. Medicine men are always devious. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever master all I need to know to become one.”
“I like your Grandfather.”
“Just remember you can’t always take at face value what he seems to be saying. He doesn’t lie, but his way of thinking can be as twisting as a snake track.”
“I’ll bet he’s right most of time, though.”
“You got it,” Shane said. “Frustrates the hell out of me sometimes.”
The sun was lowering when they rode into the corral. Nobody came to meet them, so they took care of the horses before going inside the house. Something good was cooking in the Crock-Pot—chili by the spicy smell—but no one was around.
“Sage is probably out in the barn doing her best to spoil that colt,” Shane said. “Wouldn’t surprise me if Grandfather isn’t egging her on.”
“Babies need a lot of attention,” she reminded him. “I’m for a shower and change of clothes.”
“Sounds good to me. Want to shower with a friend and save water?”
She frowned at him, but her flush told him he’d made her imagine them naked together with the water sluicing down. Something he’d better stop thinking about right now or suffer the consequences.
After supper—both of them duded up some—they left Sage and Grandfather to the dishes and set off for Tourmaline. Laura wore a pink dress with a full skirt that made her look like a rose to him. She smelled good, too.