Sacred Ground

by Rita Karnopp

  "You fight all night too?" Lance asked.

  "Not important," Brett said. "Let’s get into some shelter and let your mom warm up." Still holding her intimately close, he squeezed her.

  Fortunately, nine-year-olds wouldn't notice something like that. "What possessed you boys to take off without permission?"

  "It's my fault," Lance offered. "Me and Sean―"

  "Sean and I," Willow corrected.

  "Sean and I thought if you spent some time together, you might start liking each other. We like being together and can't figure out why you guys don't."

  "Yeah," Sean added. "You're a girl and he's a boy. You're supposed to like each other."

  Willow struggled to suppress a giggle. The boys were closer to the truth than they knew. "You can't force people to like each other, boys. Some men and women just don't get along, especially when the boy is stubborn and always right."

  "Now just one minute,” Brett said, walking toward the cave opening. “I've not once said you were wrong. It just happens my decisions were based on more experience and knowledge. It bothers you that I just might be right.”

  "Now I've heard everything. More experience and knowledge my as . . . my foot!" She buried her face in his shoulder to keep from laughing.

  "Tell you what, boys." Brett stopped under the rock overhang, just short of the cave opening. "Unload the equipment and saddles and leave them in the dry entrance area here. Get those horses down to that stream for a drink. Scrape off some snow in a good square area, there's spring grass under there for them to eat. They deserve a good meal." He moved into the cave.

  "They didn't say a word," she breathed and flicked her tongue along his cheek. His grip tightened, and he pressed his lips to hers in savage intensity. She responded with a burning that left her blood pounding in her brain and her emotions whirling and skidding.

  "I want you, Willow," he whispered.

  "You'd better set me down before you drop me. I'm not exactly a petite light-weight."

  "You're just right. Long sexy legs, cute ass, incredible breasts―"

  "Dad, can we have some of that jerky? Watch out, you got her too close to those hot rocks, she can't see―"

  "Got it handled." Brett set her on one of the boy's sleeping bags, a little further away from the blazing fire.

  "About the jerky?"

  "Help yourself, but don't eat it all, we have tonight and tomorrow to get through." He pulled off Willow's gloves, and then struggled with the knot on her jacket hood. "Coast is clear."

  "Brett, what if what we feel is only sexual attraction? I've been abstinent for so long, not that you―"

  "Me, too," he admitted.

  "You? I've heard how the women drool over you. I've seen them trying to impress you, working at being noticed," she said, feeling foolish for saying it.

  "Did you ever try to get noticed?"

  "Me? You hated me. I'm Indian, remember? You've never given me more notice than a glare." She fought how breathless he made her feel with his closeness. Finally the hood slipped back and he started on her jacket buttons.

  "I'm sorry if I hurt you with my comments. I did notice you, though. Hell, I couldn't take my eyes off you, and I admit it ticked me off." He pulled her jacket off.

  She sat still when she felt him slide his hand beneath her sweatshirt, then up under her bra to give a gentle squeeze. "Don't start something you can't finish," she whispered breathlessly. She welcomed his caressing lips and the tongue he slipped into her mouth, teasing, exciting, and dueling. He pulled back, leaving her mouth burning with fire. "This is torture."

  "Incredible torture. I've never wanted a woman more than I want you, Willow. Damn, my body shakes for want of you. Tell me you feel it too."

  She realized he held his breath, afraid she'd deny it. She couldn't help smiling. "You put me on fire. Is that what you want to hear? I can't think of anything but wondering what it would be like to love you. I'm afraid of it, but with you I think it'd be different." She paused, embarrassed by her admission.

  "I won't ever hurt you." He brushed her lips with his. "I would take my time and make sure you're willing and ready. Only when you cry out and beg for me, will I enter you. You have my promise on that." He pulled her into his chest. "If that bastard Gordon wasn't dead, I think I could kill him myself for what he's done to you."

  Willow accepted his words without comment. She'd never have believed he had this gentle side, but she liked this new Brett she'd grown to know. "The boys are coming," she said, pulling away.

  "You need help getting those boots off?" His loud voice still held some huskiness.

  "I'm not helpless. I could have gotten my jacket off, too, if you hadn't knotted the string so badly," she added, snickering at her whiny words.

  "Why do you have to yell at each other?" Lance asked, sitting next to his mother and shyly giving her a hug.

  "Yeah, why?" Sean echoed.

  "I don't know," Brett answered. "I think it's her way of feeling equal to a man."

  "That's absurd," she responded with exaggerated shock. "You intentionally try to undermine my abilities. You, you don't believe women are good for anything but―"

  "Whoa, the boys don't need a lesson on―"

  "I wasn't going to get nitty-gritty, I was just―"

  "Mom, Brett, you're fighting," Lance shouted.

  "Yeah,” Sean said. “We're sick of it. You already sound married."

  Willow stopped short, and then burst out laughing. Brett dropped to the sleeping bag behind her and howled his own reaction to the boy’s words. She held her ribs and soon felt his arms wrap around her as he belted another round of explosive laughter. She hadn't heard him laugh like this before, and she loved the warmth it released. She struggled to bring her own frenzied fit of laughter under control. When was the last time she'd had a good, uncontrolled laugh? It felt good.

  She leaned her back into Brett's chest, enjoying the protective, comforting feel of his arms as he held her snugly against him. She wondered what expressions the boys wore. "Sit down boys."

  "We are sitting, Mom," Lance answered.

  "Oh." She smothered another giggle. "Now guys, what you did was wrong. Do you realize that? I can't hear you."

  "We nodded but I guess you didn't see us," Lance said. "We didn't mean anything bad. We didn't want you to have snow blindness."

  "Yeah," Sean added. "We've decided we owe you both an apology. We were hoping . . . we thought . . . I think you'd make a great mom and Lance thought you, Dad, would be well, it's not fair. He has a mom and I don't."

  "Right," Lance said. "And he has a dad and I don't. I want a dad and Sean wants a mom. We just wanted―"

  "To be a family," Sean finished.

  Willow heard the hurt and disappointment in the boy's voices. Brett tightened his hug, and she knew he felt the same as she did. She cleared her throat. "That may be so. But even though your intentions were good, the way you did it was wrong."

  "It worked on Parent Trap," Sean said.

  "Yeah," Lance chimed in. "Their parents fought all the time, just like you two, but at the end―"

  "Because they were forced to be together," Sean added, "they found out they still loved each other."

  "Right," Lance said. "They became a family."

  "Right," Sean agreed.

  "Do you realize how dangerous this game of yours was?" Brett asked. "Do either of you have any idea how worried we were? Caves can have bears in them, and if you hadn't found firewood, you might have frozen to death. Parents worry about stuff like that."

  "We didn't know it would snow," Lance replied. "I knew about this cave and we headed straight for it. When we got here there was already a fire made."

  "Yeah,” Sean said. “We thought you got here before us, but you never came back."

  "I woke during the night and an old Indian was putting wood on our fire," Lance said. "Even though he was old, he had shiny black hair and it was real long. He wore a neat eagle claw necklace. He smiled at me a
nd touched Sean's hair and cried. I asked him who he was, but he put his finger to his lips so I wouldn't talk. He sat by the fire and kept us safe. I went back to sleep."

  "Naw, you were dreaming," Sean said.

  "Was not! Who kept the fire going?" Lance asked.

  Willow felt Brett's grip tighten and wondered what he thought about all this. "It doesn't matter now. I'm grateful you're safe and not a frozen icicle. We owe that old Indian man a thank you for keeping you safe and warm. You didn't recognize him, Lance?"

  "He looked familiar but I was so sleepy and didn't look at him too much. I know I've seen him before, but I don't remember where."

  "Well, if you ever see him, let us know so we can thank him for taking care of you boys," Willow said.

  "Back to the trouble you fellas are in," Brett said. "We understand your motive, but that doesn't excuse your actions. You put all our lives in danger. The bottom line is this, one week of extra chores at the Tumbling T and another week at the Arrowhead."

  "Together?" Lance asked.

  "You did the crime together so you'll do the time together."

  "Yahoo!" Sean yelped.

  "What?" Willow asked, "This is punishment, not reward."

  "We can be together for two weeks," Lance explained. "It's okay if we have to work."

  "You're going to work hard," Brett said. "First there's a well that needs rocks hauled out of it. Chicken coop needs a spring cleaning."

  "Yuk," Sean interrupted. "You ever clean a chicken coop?"

  "No. Can't be that bad, can it?" Lance asked.

  Sean groaned. "It's worse than bad. Stinks like ammonia, even worse. Dad opens a big window and we have to shovel chicken poop into a wagon. It's disgusting."

  "If that's not a dirty enough job, I have one equally fun," Willow said. "The loft has straw old enough to be put in a museum. I want the entire barn cleaned out so I can replace it with new. It's something I've wanted to do for a couple of years. Now that I have a work crew, there are a number of other items on my To Do list." She smiled at the groans offered by the boys.

  "Say, you're hugging," Lance pointed out.

  "Yeah. You're not arguing either," Sean added.

  They quickly separated. "Must be this blindfold and not seeing that confused me," Willow felt Brett's knee pressing into her butt, and she smiled, pleased he hadn't completely broken the connection between them. "We’re going to spend the night here. It’s too late to head back today and I might have my sight back by morning. We need you boys to go check on the horses and make sure they get something to eat, please."

  “Sure” they answered in unison.

  "Don’t go too far!” Brett shouted after them. “They’re gone. I'd say we handled that relatively well," Brett said in a low tone. "We're not too bad together, are we?"

  She turned to face him and felt his breath on her cheek. "We might not make too bad a team."

  "I can tell you right now, I'm falling in love with you."

  Willow’s heart pounded. She hadn't expected this from Brett, not this soon anyway. She tensed for a moment, and then relaxed. She liked how it sounded. "Gordon never told me he loved me. The words sound strange."

  "Good God, I can't believe that man. He had heaven and made it hell. I'll treat you good, Willow. Give me a chance." His tone held an edge of pleading.

  She reached up and gently touched his face with her fingers. She paused to trace his lips, the gesture felt more intimate than a kiss. "I think I'm falling in love with you, too.” She pulled her hand back. “It scares me. It's all happening so quickly. We need to keep it from the boys."

  "Why?"

  "If it doesn't work out, I don't want them hurt. They don't understand relationships. They will understand the loss."

  "I don't have relationships. I swore if I was ever lucky enough to find a woman worth having, I'd marry her for keeps. I don't play games with my heart, Willow. I have too much at stake with Sean. My actions are for him as well as me. I feel it deep in my soul we were meant to be together. I believe you feel it too."

  His words touched her deeply. "You're nothing like I thought you were."

  "Believe me, you're nothing like I thought you were either."

  Tears stung her eyes. Could she be so lucky as to have finally found true love? She leaned forward and buried her face in his neck. He pulled her into him and she welcomed his strength. She cried tears of lost time, tears of apprehension, and tears of happiness.

  "What did you do to make her cry?" Lance asked in a tone to be reckoned with.

  "My eyes burn and sting. Brett did nothing to hurt me."

  "You ever hurt her and you'll have to answer to me. I'm not a kid anymore. I realized that too late, or I'd have made my dad know it. If he were alive today, I'd kill him!"

  "Lance!" Willow shouted, shocked by his words.

  "Well, I would. I'd thought about it many times when I heard him hurting you. Now that I'm bigger, I would have stopped him. Someone beat me to it, but he did a good job at it."

  "Lord," Willow sobbed. "You can't mean that, Lance. He was your father. Most of it was my fault."

  "Like hell it was, Willow," Brett snapped. "Don't lie to the kid. Gordon wasn't perfect, no one is. But don't excuse what he did to you as your fault. Lance needs to understand that men don't hurt their wives, or any female. For any reason! It's that simple. He needs to learn that before he's a man."

  Willow sat still and tense. Brett was right; Lance had to understand violence wasn't the answer. She had heard and read that male children often repeated the actions of their fathers. Lord, she suddenly realized Lance needed a father more than she ever imagined. "Lance, I don't want you hating your father. Our problems were ours, not yours. Brett is right though. A man should never hurt the ones he loves. No woman asks for hurt."

  "Hey, you’re hugging again," Sean said.

  "Not exactly."Willow moved from Brett's arms. "It was comfort."

  "Comfort's good," Sean said.

  She smiled. "Yes, comfort’s good. Now, how about that food?" She extended her hand. A furry thing moved against her palm, and Willow flung it with a scream.

  "Mom! You'll hurt it!" Lance yelled while moving away. "I caught him!"

  "Hurt who? That scared me, you rat," she scolded, laughing in spite of herself.

  "It's a baby bunny. We found it in the cave this morning. Its mom must be dead 'cause we haven't seen her anywhere. Can we take him home?" Sean pleaded.

  "Let me have him." Again Willow held out her hand, this time expecting a furry living creature. "What color is he?"

  "Pure white. It's a good sign," Lance said. "Like the white buffalo. White is the sign of Napi, the old one. Even though our little bunny is not powerful, we have named him White Buffalo."

  Willow chuckled and snuggled the small animal. "It’s a mighty big name for so small a fella. Where did you find White Buffalo?"

  "In the spot where the old Indian sat all night. Maybe we should have named him Old Indian." Lance laughed with Sean.

  "Go out and pull some green grass for him from under the snow. He'll be hungry." She listened to the boys as they walked away.

  "Did you see her jump?"

  "Yeah," Sean answered. "I'm glad you caught him."

  "Quite a twosome they make," she said, realizing Brett had been quiet for some time. She felt his warmth behind her so she knew he hadn't left.

  "Don't you think we should let the boys in on our secret, just a little?" he asked.

  "Give us time to get to know each other better. Let’s make sure before we include our sons. They both have felt the sting of a bad marriage. We owe it to them to make sure first."

  "Willow," he said, pulling her hand in his. "I am sure. It may sound crazy, but I can't imagine being with anyone but you."

  "You're forgetting something—or pushing it into the back of your mind. I'm an Indian. Not so many days ago, that would have sent you turning on your heels. You need time to confront this and decide if it's going to bother yo
u in the future."

  "In my dream, I admitted I was Indian so your father would let you marry me."

  "Is that why he said yes?" She found it strange to be discussing his dream. It was an intimate thing.

  "No. I had no proof. He didn't believe me, but I realized I wanted to be Indian, just so he and all those others around us would accept me for being me. I don't know if I could ever forgive my blood father for what he did to my mother—and me. I'd still like to know who he is."

  Willow raised his hand and laid her cheek against it. "Have you ever seen him in your dreams?"

  "No. But when I was little I thought I felt someone watching me while I slept. I'd wake and smell pine and sage. I'd ask my mother and she'd say it was my guardian angel, then she'd warn me not to say anything to my dad."

  "Do you think it was your father?"

  "Not likely. You've got to remember that those drunken Indians raped her. She doesn't even know which one is my father."

  "Didn't she press charges? She could have had blood tests run and―"

  "She didn't want a public display. She asked my dad to pretend the baby was his, but he refused. He went into town, got drunk and told everyone how some Indians raped his wife. Several men and my dad went out and found four Indians who were sitting outside a cheap bar drinking. They beat those men without mercy. Several had broken bones and one almost died. Nothing was done to my dad or his friends. No charges were filed for the rape."

  "Lord, I never knew. Did your mother ever say if they were the four men who attacked her?"

  "Nope. She wouldn't talk about it to anyone, not even me. When I ask, she just says I’m a child of love, her love."

  Chapter Nine

  Willow sat at the cave entrance, alone. Tears filled her eyes, and she wept. She knew it was silly, even childish, but she couldn't help herself.

  They needed to find out who Brett's father was. They couldn't have a future together until he put his hatred for Indians behind him.

  They also needed to figure out how, why, and who killed Gordon. Not that it mattered where her feelings were concerned, but it mattered to put it behind her and Lance.

  Then there was the matter of who was sabotaging Brett's ranch. Who would want to hurt him and make it look like she'd done it? Was Gordon’s death mixed in all this? She had strong feelings about it, and if she were honest, her first suspect would have to be Wyatt. But for what purpose or gain would Wyatt be involved?