Texas Passion

by Sara Orwig

  Dan wrapped his arm around Rachel’s tiny waist and pulled her up against him. He wore only the breechcloth and he discovered she was wearing only a cotton gown. His heart hammered against his ribcage as he held her in his arms. He bent his head, his mouth covering hers, his tongue entering her mouth. His hand went to her breast, and he felt her nipple pushing against the soft cotton. He cupped her breast, his thumb flicking over the nipple.

  While she returned his kiss, he felt as if something were tearing apart inside, him, opening up to the softness of this woman who had slipped past his defenses with her challenges. His body clamored for her and his soul longed for her care. Wet, sweet, and hot, her tongue played over his, searching his mouth.

  With a muffled groan, his arms tightened as his hard shaft pushed against the breechcloth. Had she received such a scare today during the ambush that passion was a reaction to fear? Had fear given her a sudden need to satisfy the flesh? Or was it that she finally decided she could trust him? Could he break that trust now and do his duty?

  When she pushed against his chest, he released her, looking at her intently. “Neither one of us will get any sleep,” he whispered. “Good night, Red.” He moved away and stretched out, crossing his long legs at the ankles. She glanced over him, seeing his erect shaft, evidence of what he felt in spite of his leaving her. She ached for more of him. Turning over, she lay still, staring at the top of the tipi, trying to let her burning body cool. She was acutely aware of him only yards away.

  Sleep wouldn’t come and she turned on her back again, glancing at him. He lay on his side, facing her, his long lashes dark shadows on his cheeks, his head on his arm. She could see his broad shoulders and chest, her gaze traveling down to his slim hips, down his long legs. She ached for his kisses and caresses. Why hadn’t she felt this way with Robert? Now looking back, she felt as if they both had been innocent children.

  Dan Overton was a man and an experienced lover. He did things that made her blush and made her burn with desire. How many nights would they sleep like this? Why was it so intimate when they had been almost as close sleeping by the wagon on the trail?

  She studied him, imagining for one moment what it would be like to be held against his length, in his arms as he lay sleeping. The thought was disturbing and she turned her back to him, trying to think about other things.

  She finally fell asleep only to waken and sit up some time later. The translucent hides let a golden light inside the tipi from morning sunshine. It was still, peaceful, and Rachel felt a reluctance to get up. Glancing around, she saw she was the only one in the tipi and she felt a momentary panic. Where were the children? Where was Abigail? She remembered the women’s kindness the night before and she relaxed, standing and stretching.

  The flap opened and Dan entered. In moonlight he had been disturbing; in daylight he was riveting. The only covering was the breechcloth. His body was male perfection, lean, muscled, and fit. He looked every inch a Kiowa warrior, from his thick black hair to his dark eyes and skin. Suddenly she realized that her gaze had gone over him as she looked up into his eyes. A mocking gleam met her, and a fiery blush burned up from her throat to her cheeks.

  “Good morning,” he said, still standing where he had stopped when he entered.

  “How’s Pa?” she asked, her voice lower and breathless.

  “He’s better. He’s awake and he doesn’t have any fever.”

  “Thank God!” she said, closing her eyes in relief. “And thank your medicine man for me,” she said, softly, opening her eyes to look at him. “I want to thank all the people. They have been so good to us. When can I see Pa?”

  “Not until they think he is ready.” Dan moved closer, and she drew a deep breath, her heart pounding. “Red,” he said softly, “this is one place you’ll have to take orders. Don’t push about seeing your Pa. I’ll take you to see him when the medicine man says you can. Until then you stay with the women.”

  She felt hot, closed in with him. The tipi that had seemed so roomy with Abigail and Lissa and Josh, suddenly narrowed in on her. In spite of good judgment, her gaze dropped and she looked at his bare chest, his flat stomach. She looked up swiftly, and he stepped closer, tilting up her face.

  “That’s what I like about you. You’re not coy and simpering. You show and say what you’re feeling.”

  While her heart pounded, she stepped back from him. “I need to dress. You have to leave.”

  Something flickered in the depths of his dark eyes. He wanted to kiss her—she could see that in his expression, but there was a deep-running anger or toughness that she didn’t understand. Unless he was after Pa, but she had ruled that out yesterday.

  Dan turned and left the tipi and she closed her eyes, feeling the same as if she had just stepped to the edge of a precipice and then jumped back to safety. Why did Dan Overton cause such a violent reaction in her?

  She changed to the buckskin, and stepped out into brilliant sunshine beneath a deep blue, cloudless sky. Morning Cloud smiled and motioned to her to follow, leading her to a stream that ran beside the camp. Rachel shed the buckskin and waded in, relishing the cool water. Finally she dressed, returning with Morning Cloud to eat.

  Next she went with Morning Cloud to tan hides from a recent buffalo hunt. The hides had already been prepared on one side and were soaked overnight in a thick batter of wood ash and water. The women removed a hide to stretch and peg it on the ground. Morning Cloud gave her a bone flesher to scrape away the thick hair. The sun rose high and as she worked over a hide, a shadow fell across her.

  Chapter 9

  “You can see your father now,” Dan said.

  With a small cry of joy Rachel stood up, then remembered the work she was doing. “I need to tell Morning Cloud.”

  “I told her,” he said, looking at the hide in her hands, touching it lightly. “You fit in well, Rachel.”

  “You fit as if you lived here always.”

  “I like living close to the land.” As he talked, he took her arm and they crossed the camp. The sun was high and hot, grass beaten down in the encampment. She glanced at the tipis with colorful pictures painted on hides.

  “This isn’t as large a camp as I expected.”

  “This is just one band. They break up during the year and then once a year when the down of the cottonwood flies, all the Kiowa bands come together for the Sun Dance. They feel Pahy, the sun, is one of the spiritual forces acting on the Kiowa world. There are six big divisions of the Kiowa, so you’re seeing only a small part.” His dark eyes filled with satisfaction. “They’ve learned to live with the land and by its gifts. Maybe you can see why I like this better than toiling in a bank office.”

  She looked up at him, unable to imagine him in an office. “Why a bank?”

  “That’s what my father did. I worked for him for a time, but that’s not the life for me.”

  “And this is?”

  “It could be, except I’ve been a soldier with the United States Army. I’ve served under General Sherman. I know how they feel about what they call the Indian problem. This way of life is doomed. White men are beginning to hunt the buffalo. And as the white man comes west to settle, the Indian lands will diminish. Treaties have been made and broken and will be made and broken again. I want to live out here, but their way of life is going to change.”

  “You sound certain,” she said, hearing bitterness in his voice, realizing how strongly he felt about this life.

  “When the Kiowa signed the Little Arkansas treaty a couple of years ago, they agreed to live on government lands in Indian Territory. Chief Dohasan protested, declaring Kiowa territory to run from Fort Laramie in Colorado Territory to the Rio Grande, but the whites have tried to enforce this treaty. Now two chiefs, Lone Wolf and Satanta want to use force to gain back land, because the settlers continue to intrude.”

  “There seems so much space out here, as if there’s enough land for everyone to live where he pleases.”

  “The government wants to
put the tribe on allotted lands. That’s not how they’ll want to live,” he stated flatly, the tough expression coming to his eyes while his jaw firmed. “That’s not how I want to live.” He looked down at her and smiled. “So what do you want from life, Red?”

  “I just want my family safe,” she said in an earnest voice.

  There was a sudden flicker of coldness in his eyes, and then it was gone. It had been so fleeting. Had her answer caused it?

  He led her to a tipi where smoke spiraled out the vent. “Remember, Red, do as I tell you. Don’t fight me here.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’ll cooperate because I’m grateful for my father’s care.”

  Dan turned toward the tipi. The flap was up and she entered behind Dan who spoke to the medicine man. The medicine man nodded to her and waved his hand toward her father who reclined on hides.

  “Pa?”

  Eb turned his head, raising slightly and she rushed to him, kneeling beside him as she clasped his hand. Tears of relief and joy stung her eyes. He seemed so much better!

  “Help me up, Rachel.”

  Wiping her eyes, she moved to Eb’s good side and helped him sit up, looking at his color that had returned to normal. “Oh, Pa, you’re better!” she exclaimed, joy filling her.

  “I feel better thanks to Dan and his friends.” Eb smiled and nodded at the medicine man who nodded back. “I can walk around now, but Dan says I should wait a couple more days before I travel.”

  Filled with gratitude toward Dan and the medicine man, she clung to her father’s large, rough hand, looking at his bare shoulder that was bound by the cloth over the pieces of willow. Whatever the medicine man had applied, Pa was better and looked as if he would survive. Thankful she wasn’t going to lose him, she squeezed his hand. “Can you walk outside?”

  He looked at Dan questioningly who turned to the medicine man. When the medicine man nodded, Dan moved closer. “To walk will make you stronger.”

  “Give me your hand,” Pa said, placing one arm across her shoulders. Dan moved close on his other side and helped him up, and they moved slowly outside into hot sunshine.

  “This feels good, to get my feet under me again. I feel as if I’ve aged another twenty years.”

  “You’ll be better by tomorrow,” Dan said with confidence. They walked across the campsite past shields hanging to the west of the tipis on tripods of cedar sticks to absorb the sun. She spotted Josh running with a group of boys before they disappeared toward the creek.

  “Rachel, I need to go back now,” Pa said.

  They turned around and she glanced at Dan, wondering about him. How could he be so caring if he was after Pa? Maybe she had misjudged him completely. His father had owned a bank, and he hadn’t wanted to work there. If he were a bounty hunter, he could still collect even if he brought Pa in dead, so why would he go to all this trouble to save him?

  And if he wasn’t a marshal or a bounty hunter? She might have misjudged him all along. The realization made her feel lighthearted. Maybe his intentions had been exactly what he said. He had been so persistent in offering his help that she couldn’t keep from being suspicious about his motives. She must have been wrong, yet caution still rode with her like a cloak around her shoulders.

  They entered the tipi and helped Pa back to his bed of hides. “Pa, I’m so glad you feel better.”

  “I’m tired now, Rachel. I’ve been up twice this morning and I’d like to sleep.”

  She nodded, waiting while Dan said something to the medicine man. When they stepped outside again, Dan touched her, his fingers lightly holding her forearm. “Come here. I have something to show you.”

  Curious, she walked beside him as they left the camp and headed toward the trees. She was intensely conscious of him at her side. Now it was doubly disturbing because of the slight bit of clothing he wore. In her peripheral vision she could see his tanned bare skin, his long legs clad in leather moccasins. The cool shade beneath the willows and cottonwoods was welcome, and she brushed her damp forehead with her hand.

  “We’re going to the creek?”

  “I want to show you a particular place I’ve found,” he said, holding her hand and moving slightly ahead of her. Her gaze ran down his muscled back, his firm buttocks and slender thighs. Looking at him, she was too conscious of every inch of his body. He had been good to her family. He was becoming a part of it, yet she felt he always kept barriers between them. There was something in his past he had to hide, something that pained him.

  They moved into a place where the stream widened, spilling over a row of rocks down to a quiet pool, then dropping again as the land fell away in three foot falls that narrowed into a rushing stream. Only the faint splash of water over rocks and the plaintive coo of a dove could be heard.

  “Now we can swim,” he said, turning to her.

  “I don’t know how to swim.”

  “Above the rocks, it’s shallow enough to wade.”

  She looked down at her buckskin dress. “I can’t go in this.”

  He shrugged. “Take it off. Water will come to your shoulders and I’ll turn my back.” He pulled off the moccasins and waded in. She watched the water swirl and eddy around his body and its tempting invitation was impossible to resist.

  “Keep your back turned.”

  When he didn’t answer, she yanked off the buckskin. Stepping out of the moccasins, she walked into the water, momentarily taken aback, because it was clear and even if she were in it to her chin, she wouldn’t be covered.

  Cool water ran over her feet and she couldn’t resist wading in farther. “Keep your back turned. This water is as clear as glass.”

  She thought she heard a chuckle and she frowned at him, drawing a deep breath as her gaze ran over him again. Suddenly he dipped down and splashed into the pool, swimming away from her, disappearing under the water. He resurfaced to swim back toward her, his sleek black hair plastered to his head, making his rugged features seem more prominent than ever. She couldn’t fathom the look in his dark eyes. She had waded in until water came to her shoulders, yet it hid nothing.

  She turned her back on him, tilting her head back and relishing the cold water streaming over her. She ducked beneath the surface, bobbing up to catch her breath. He stood only a few feet away, watching her with a smoldering look.

  Her breath caught as his gaze lifted from her breasts to her eyes.

  “Dan,” she said softly, suddenly shy and feeling overwhelmed by his expression of desire. When he waded toward her, she backed up.

  “Not here. Not now,” she protested, knowing she wasn’t making good sense. Feeling vulnerable, she was unable to keep from looking at his chest that was covered with sparkling drops of water.

  His arm went around her waist, and he pulled her against him. It was as startling as a bolt of lightning searing her body. She felt his sleek, wet warmth, his hot hard manhood. There were no barriers between them. He had shed the breechcloth, and his throbbing shaft pressed against her belly.

  Her nipples became taut, her breasts tingling. Her mouth felt swollen, aching for his kisses. He looked down at her and his arm tightened, pulling her hard against him as he bent his head. His tongue thrust between her teeth, an invasion that brought them together, a closeness that seemed right as if he were the only man for her, the one to fill the emptiness. His fierce kisses made her feel young and desirable again, something she had experienced so little in her life.

  Making a sobbing sound, she wanted him and his loving, if only once, he would leave her with memories and moments to treasure. Even as she clung to him and kissed him back, winding her fingers in strands of his slick, wet hair, running her hands over his shoulders, an inner voice reminded her of the dangers. She was supposed to be a married woman. If she was wrong and Dan was after Pa, and Dan discovered she was virginal, he would know there was no husband and Lissa wasn’t her child.

  Torn between wanting to take what she might not ever get another chance to have, and waiting because Dan c
ould be after Pa, she tried to think. Her thoughts swirled in her mind, tangling like weeds in the water. At the same time, she burned with need for more of him, wanting to touch his powerful body, wanting to feel his hardness, to touch and kiss him, wanting him to love her because she felt complete with him.

  Cupping her breasts in his big hands, he flicked his thumbs over her nipples. Gasping with pleasure, she clung to him, looking up at him and tilting her head back, feeling a lethargy come that made her limbs heavy, that destroyed logical thought.

  “You’re beautiful, Rachel,” he whispered, bending his head to take her nipple in his mouth and bite gently, teasing her.

  She felt as if she would faint from sensations that rocked her. He slid his arm around her waist, moving closer again to kiss her. She wound her fingers in his hair while her other hand drifted down his thigh, and all the voices of caution were silenced. She forgot he could be a bounty hunter or marshal. She forgot everything else momentarily except the waves of sensation bombarding her.

  Dan shifted her, his hand sliding down between her legs. She moaned softly as he nudged her legs apart, his fingers finding the bud of womanhood.

  Rachel cried out with pleasure, gripping him, her hips moving as he caressed her. Her hand drifted down touching him, and she felt she would faint with the contact. His member was big and hard, hot in her hand. She heard him gasp and then she was lost as his hand moved between her thighs. She clung to him, kissing him, her hips moving wildly as he rubbed her to a brink that she didn’t know existed. She whimpered with need, feeling an ache that was overwhelming. She clutched his arms, holding him tightly while they kissed. His hand was an insistent friction against her softness.