Book Read Free

When the Splendor Falls

Page 58

by Laurie McBain


  Suddenly she felt his body become tense. She felt the knife against her throat, and waited for the warmth of her lifeblood flowing from her throat. She waited, but she felt no pain, except for a stinging at the back of her neck. She’d heard that sometimes, when a person was mortally wounded, they died so quickly that it was often painless. But she could still feel his warm breath against her, and hear his breathing so close to hers.

  A voice spoke softly.

  Leigh kept her eyes tightly shut. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, shaking her slightly.

  Opening her eyes, she met the blue-eyed Comanche’s puzzled stare. He held the leather pouch in his palm. He was staring at the contents he’d emptied from it. Leigh suddenly felt more than just fear. She was furious. He had no right to open the pouch. It belonged to Neil. The Comanche just barely touched the single feather, the arrowhead, and the yellowed fang, and was very careful not to spill any of the red dirt. But his fingers seemed to hesitate before touching the small curl of black hair braided and woven with colorful beads, and that was when Leigh could have sworn she heard him sigh. But when he saw the tiny silver dagger, the sun crowning its hilt, he placed his palm over it for a long moment.

  As if he sensed her anger, he looked up, meeting her gaze for only a second before he looked back down at the pouch. He said something angry over his shoulder, instantly halting the other Comanche’s tormenting of Gil. Without questioning his command, they pulled the lance from his jacket sleeve and quickly mounted their ponies, their expressions concerned.

  The talismans that had belonged to a young Comanche brave known as Sun Dagger were returned to the pouch and were handed back to Leigh, her hand limply holding the soft leather as she watched the Comanche with the blue eyes vault onto his piebald pony and without a backward glance ride back into the cottonwoods, toward the west, the rest of the braves trying to catch him as he seemed to ride faster than a cold wind blowing through the mountain passes.

  Somehow Leigh managed to reach Gil, who was still lying on the ground, his buckskin jacket stained with blood, his lip becoming puffy, his nose swelling from the blow he’d received.

  “I don’t understand,” he said dazedly, his blue-gray eyes darkened with pain. “We should be dead. Or at least I should. And you…” He felt the hot tears scalding his bloodied cheeks, unable to finish the thought, but Leigh’s warm arms enfolding him in a fierce, comforting hug made him realize he was still very much alive, especially when she kissed his bloodied cheek.

  “Why did they leave?” Leigh asked aloud, staring back at the cottonwoods, half expecting them to reappear, their attack in deadly earnest this time.

  “What’s that?” Gil asked faintly.

  “The lamb.”

  “They didn’t take it?”

  “No, nor Capitaine or Jicama,” Leigh said in disbelief as she heard Capitaine’s neigh.

  Gil shook his head, then wished he hadn’t, because it made the world start spinning. “My God, Leigh. We’re alive,” he said, still unable to believe that he was feeling only the pain of an aching head and a slight wound to his arm, for the lance had just scratched him, he realized as he lifted his arm as he tried to rise.

  Leigh grabbed hold of him and helped him to his feet, where he stood unsteadily, trying to keep his balance until her arm slid around his waist and he leaned against her.

  “I still don’t understand,” Gil was mumbling as Leigh led him toward their horses, determined to waste no more time in this wretched place.

  “What’s that?” Gil asked, becoming aware of the leather pouch clutched in Leigh’s hand. “It looks familiar.”

  “It’s Neil’s. He left it in my possession,” Leigh said, grasping it tighter. “Jolie says it possesses powerful magic,” Leigh heard herself saying. “She told me to wear it this morning,” she remembered, thankful she’d heeded Jolie’s warnings for once.

  “Neil’s?” Gil repeated curiously. “I wonder,” he said, still unable to believe that their horses were really here. He managed to climb on Jicama’s back, but nearly fainted while waiting for Leigh to find the lamb and climb on Capitaine.

  “Leigh?” he said.

  “What?”

  “We mustn’t ever tell what happened. Promise me, Leigh?”

  “Why?”

  “I was forbidden to come here. I could have gotten you killed. Don’t tell my father, Leigh. Please? I just have a feeling, Leigh, that it would cause more harm than good to say anything. We’re alive. They didn’t really hurt us. Why cause trouble? It will just bring up old memories for my father. You see, I think those Comanche must have recognized that pouch of Neil’s. They knew it belonged to a Comanche brave. They honored it, maybe even honored Neil. He might be remembered in the tribe. We can’t say anything. If my father knew they were here, on his land, he’d go after them, maybe get killed. And what would that do to Neil? It’s best forgotten. I’ll say I took a tumble from Jicama. Leigh?” he questioned.

  “All right, Gil. I’ll say nothing,” Leigh agreed, feeling a strange sense of foreboding, but then they were riding across the meadow, the sun shining down warmly on them.

  Royal Rivers. Even in the darkness it was welcoming, she thought in growing excitement as they neared the opened gates. Then she realized why. It seemed as if the night were on fire, for countless torches were blazing across the grounds, the flames flickering eerily, with a smoky haze hanging low over the darker shapes of human and animal forms wandering about. Men and horses. They were grouping together near the corrals, ready to ride out in search of Gil and her.

  Leigh caught Gil’s pleading gaze on her, and she nodded. She wouldn’t break her promise to him about what had happened. No one would ever know of their encounter with the Comanche braves.

  She saw Nathaniel approaching out of one of the pools of darkness, his lean figure seeming taller than ever, the torchlight dancing around him as if he had stepped from the fires of hell, his long-legged, unhurried stride bringing him closer to where she still sat her horse. Even though she and Gil might have an uncomfortable few moments explaining themselves to him, she was glad she was home, she thought, closing her eyes tiredly.

  Leigh never saw the arms that reached up and lifted the lamb from its snug perch across her lap, baaing loudly as it was taken from the warmth of its newly adopted mother. Leigh was about to dismount when the arms returned and easily lifted her from the saddle. She didn’t think her legs would hold her when her boots touched the ground, but they never did, and instead she was swung up into the strong arms and held against the warmth of a broad chest as she felt herself being carried away from the corrals.

  Leigh opened her eyes then, ready to protest that she could walk and Gil needed more help than she did, and she had things to do before she—but she found herself gazing up into a pair of cold, pale gray-green eyes. It was Neil Braedon who held her, not his father.

  Twenty-two

  Never seek to tell thy love

  Love that never told can be;

  For the gentle wind does move

  Silently, invisibly.

  William Blake

  “Leigh.”

  Her name came soft as a whisper to his lips, and even over the clamor surrounding them she heard his voice and glanced up into his face, still disbelieving that he was here, that he had returned to Royal Rivers, that he held her in his arms once again.

  “Once again,” he said, seeming to speak aloud her innermost thoughts, “we meet, and never as I would have imagined. But then you always have come upon me in unguarded moments, when I am most vulnerable,” he murmured in greeting, the pale eyes becoming shadowed as his gaze rested on the pallor of her face. In the flickering torchlight, her flesh seemed as smooth as carven ivory. He reached out to caress the curving line of ashen cheek and was startled by its coldness. He found himself thinking of a stone effigy he’d seen on an ancient noblewoman’s tomb—cold, unresponsive, forever lost to life—and his arms tightened protectively around Leigh’s chilled body, holdin
g her close against the wild beating of his heart as if he’d had a disturbing premonition of yet another parting that would separate them—and perhaps permanently this time.

  Leigh felt the strength of the arms holding her, the heat of his body warming her, and she felt as if she, too, had somehow come home. For a long moment, she stared up into his face, the hawkish features so familiar, so beloved, yet his expression was strangely somber, and she wondered if he would always be a stranger to her. Would there never be a moment in time when they met with a singleness of mind, oneness of body and spirit?

  Something of those deep yearnings must have crossed her face, perhaps only for a fleeting instant, but Neil suddenly felt himself drawn into her as if he were already touching the warmth and softness of this woman he loved.

  “Thank goodness, you have returned!” Camilla cried, hurrying up to them in a rustle of silken skirts that disturbed the silence that had fallen around them, holding them enthralled.

  Camilla Braedon had never been considered beautiful. She was short, with dull reddish-brown hair that was turning gray and had been pulled back into an unflattering, albeit neat, chignon. Her features were unremarkable, and childbirth and the years of living a pampered life had added a slight plumpness to her face and figure, but it was not unsightly, and actually seemed to become her, for she was a warm and vibrant woman who loved to mother everyone.

  That was why Camilla was considered beautiful by those who knew and loved her. She possessed an inner beauty that would never fade. It emanated from her, shining through her cornflower blue eyes and creating an aura of beauty that others with perfectly featured, cameo faces would never possess. “We have been so worried. When you did not return in the afternoon, I knew something tragic must have happened. And, mon Dieu, but it has been a long afternoon, especially with that Jolie so silent, pausing as if she heard voices none of us could hear, then she would begin to mutter those strange incantations as if death were lurking over her shoulder, and it very nearly did, because she walked up so softly behind Stephen she nearly scared the poor man to death. And the aunts have been in a dither all day long and I have been beside myself trying to calm the little dears down, for they have become so fond of you, Leigh. And you know how easily upset they become when their daily routine is altered.

  “But Nathaniel was not worried. When you were not here by sundown, then, he begins to worry, because he knows his son would not disobey him and go anywhere other than the pastor’s camp, especially with Leigh accompanying him into the high country. My son is no fool, and he fears his father’s wrath. So, we wait a little longer, but still you do not arrive, and Nathaniel is about to set out in search of you when in rides Neil. I could scarcely believe my eyes, or my ears when Jolie says she knew he’d be coming. Heard Thunder, she said, although I don’t know how she could possibly have heard Neil’s horse, Thunder Dancer, so far away. But I have come to believe she knows what she is talking about; that one has the gift. My mama knew their kind when she lived in Santo Domingo. You think she might be Haitian?” Camilla asked nervously, then smiled, touching their arms as if reassuring herself that they were both there beside her. “I was so happy to see Neil again, and always I remember that first time I saw him—and see!” she exclaimed, reaching up to touch the thick braid of golden hair. “It is the same as then,” she declared, glancing over nervously at Nathaniel, who had not been pleased to see his son wearing his hair like a Comanche, even if he was a man full grown and could do as he pleased. For she also remembered the battle of wills that had followed for months afterward between Nathaniel and his fourteen-year-old son after Nathaniel had cut the damning braid from his son’s golden head, but this time—if the braid was cut—it would have to be by Neil’s own hand.

  “It was not a happy homecoming for my poor Neil when he discovered his beloved wife is missing. I was so upset, and then the look on his face upsets me even more,” she said with genuine affection for her stepson, although when she looked at him, she knew a deep sadness in her heart for the loss of her own son, her dearest Justin, who had resembled his father, and Neil, and would never return to Royal Rivers.

  “I should never have allowed you to ride with Gil, not that he wouldn’t have protected you, for my son is very brave, like his papa and his brothers, but it was not proper for you to ride so far from Royal Rivers. You were given into our protection by Neil, and it was our duty to see that no harm came to you. It was easy enough in winter Leigh, when you had to stay indoors because of the snows, but now it is spring, and you ride all the time, everyday, and never will you ride in the carriage with me when I visit my friends,” she said, throwing up her hands as if she did not know what to do with so headstrong a young woman. “You will have to be very strict with this one, Neil, or you will never have a moment’s peace—never knowing where your beloved is.”

  “I know exactly where she is,” he said, not in any hurry to release the warm body in his arms.

  “Let me down,” Leigh said, loud enough for his ears alone, her heart pounding as she realized he had not denied she was his beloved. Although she protested, Leigh was happy to stay in his arms, their touch making it easier to forget the terror of the afternoon when another pair of arms had closed around her.

  “But to have Neil arrive home at exactly such a moment, aah, I could not bear to face him, knowing how deeply in love the two of you are. And for Leigh it was tragic too. She should have been here to welcome you home, Neil. She has pined away for you, and thought of nothing but you day after day, and that is because she loves you so. And why should she not? I have heard of the romantic marriage at midnight, how you swept her off her feet with such fiery protestations of love and, to claim her for your bride, had to force that poor preacher man out of his warm bed. Ah, that Adam, I remember him. Always the jester. Ah, but he was a good boy, and we will always take care of his precious bébé. Ooh lah!” she said, laughing, for she had loved the romance of it all, and had exaggerated Leigh’s story a trifle, and now to see Leigh’s face flaming with embarrassment before she turned it away from Neil’s gaze caused her no end of delight. “But true love will not be denied, and Neil is a man who will do as he sees fit. And he is the bold one. How could he leave his wife in danger, and not send her to us when we have such a big house and so much food, and so many brave men to protect us? And we have come to love her and her family so. Ah, and to have the little ones here, their voices filling the house with laughter again,” Camilla said, wiping away a tear of happiness. “And soon, maybe, we will have more little ones in our home? And I will be their grandmama,” she said, eyeing them hopefully. “I would never have forgiven you, Neil, had you not seen fit to marry this beautiful child. But why you did not do it four years earlier than you did, when in Virginia to buy horses, I do not know.”

  “Neither do I, ma’am,” Neil said softly, holding Leigh closer, his grip becoming almost punishingly painful against her ribs, for they both remembered the reasons why he had not married her five years ago—she had chosen another. And they both knew the reasons why he had chosen to marry her a year ago—and they’d been anything but romantic.

  “What? No kiss yet?” Camilla demanded over her plump shoulder as she hurried away, having caught sight of her son in conversation with her husband. “Do not mind all of us gathering around so. This time, it will be quite proper for you to kiss your wife in public, after all, you have been parted for so long. We shall be very discreet, and very disappointed if you don’t,” she warned, stopping for a moment to make certain they did as she requested, her hands held together expectantly.

  Neil felt Leigh trying to struggle free from his embrace and a glint came into his eyes as he bent his head to hers. “For pride’s sake, my dear,” he murmured, his lips parting in the slightly curving smile that always made her nervous. “We cannot allow all of your efforts to go for naught, especially after that fairy tale you wove for my family’s benefit—or was it for your own?” he asked softly, his lips lowering closer to hers.r />
  “Mine, of course. As you say, ‘for pride’s sake’ people will sometimes tell the most outrageous lies,” Leigh told him with that cool, disdainful look, that look of Travers pride that always managed to get under his skin, sending a well-aimed shaft of anger through him as he felt challenged to force a different response from her.

  Leigh frowned as his smile widened with purpose, then suddenly she felt his arms begin to fall away from her and she reached up around his neck to keep from falling into the dust at his feet—a place she vowed she’d never be.

  But his arms hadn’t fallen away completely, and now they tightened around her just before her feet touched the ground. He held her pressed against the muscular length of his body, his mouth finding hers without hesitation as she looked up at him in surprise, her soft, parted lips fitting perfectly against the hard, finely chiseled curves of his.

  Why did it never change? Leigh wondered helplessly as she felt that same breathlessness and sudden twist in her stomach whenever he was near, the roughness of his unshaven chin heightening her sensitivity to his touch. His lips were warm and sensuous moving against hers, his arm around her waist bending her slightly backward, bringing her hips more firmly against his and she knew she was lost, and it frightened her, because she didn’t want to give of herself again, not unless she knew there was love between them. The kiss deepened, his tongue touching hers intimately, and Neil sighed, loving the feel of her. Leigh’s senses were so filled with his scent, she felt as if she were drowning in him, and she couldn’t draw a breath of her own into her lungs. Her breath had become his.

  Suddenly he felt her pulling, and none too gently, against his braided hair, trying to lift his mouth from hers, her slender body struggling against his, but her struggles only served to meld them closer, and he couldn’t control the tightening in his loins, and when she tensed, he knew she felt his masculinity hard against her. He winced when she gave the braid a painful yank, refusing to lessen the pressure. Slowly, he allowed his mouth to lift from hers. She was breathing heavily, her dark blue eyes staring up at him triumphantly, then widening slightly when she saw the corner of his lips twitch slightly as he smiled, but before she could draw her breath to protest, he began to lower his mouth to hers again, ignoring the pain as she still clung to the braid—as if she sought to control him. While holding her attention, his hand moved from her waist, dropping lower over the soft buckskin of her skirt until he found the curve he wanted, and he lightly pinched her buttock in retribution, her indrawn breath and surprised look of indignation causing him to laugh aloud with the joy of having her in his arms again. “Always remember, my dear, two can play the game, and I like to win.”

 

‹ Prev