A Leaf in the Wind

by Velda Sherrod

  "Nor does he forget," Efram said, his gray eyes unreadable.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Elise flicked a quick glance at her husband and met the lazy amusement in his eyes. He arched a questioning brow. "Whose side are you on? The savages or the settlers?"

  "No praise for savages. And no medals for the colonel."

  Laughing, T.K. took her in his arms and swung into the polka. "You've given him something to think about, honey."

  The rollicking dance came to an end, and panting, they paused behind a huge potted plant. T.K. looked at her with such unabashed tenderness, she stood on tiptoe and brushed his lips, letting her mouth move lightly across his. Her breast grazed the soft velvet of his jacket.

  He cast a stealthy glance around the room. "Jesus, Lee," he whispered, "don't you know people will talk?"

  "When have you ever cared what people said?" She cocked her head at him, daring him to disagree. "Besides, what could they say about a woman kissing her husband behind a ficus tree on her wedding night?"

  The husky timbre in T.K.'s voice sent delicious tremors tingling down her spine. "Nothing, but they'd have plenty to say if I suddenly lost control and dragged you up the stairs." He swore irritably. "Three hours before this damned party will end."

  Three hours until midnight! In T.K.'s arms, it was easy to forget that when they went upstairs, her carriage would become a pumpkin, her wedding dress a rag. She closed her eyes to shut out what was to come.

  From far off, she became aware the musicians were playing off-key and had ground almost to a stop. Whispers caught up with her. She heard the name Patrick.

  Trapped in her own private nightmare, she failed to notice the approach of the stranger until he was almost beside them. The poker player! The man she had met in Maggie Cook's apartment, and he had dared to show at the wedding!

  She fought for breath. Patrick and the poker player were one!

  Clean shaven, different, his roguish grin too wide to be genuine, Patrick Burke bowed. His resemblance to T.K. was staggering.

  Their wager had been her big smile against his wedding gift, and he had chosen her wedding day to collect.

  An honest man paid his gambling debt. An axiom her papa had never let her forget. She flashed the man a dazzling smile, abruptly let it fade to indifference, and turned her attention to T.K. Too late, she realized he had witnessed the exchange. He stared down at her, his look so intense that she thought her heart would stop beating.

  Patrick stuck out his hand. "Congratulations, brother. Will you permit me to kiss the bride?"

  Before she could recover from the shock, she was in his arms and partner to another shock. Patrick kissed her full on the lips, lingering, chuckling, calling her sweet.

  T.K. ignored her helpless look and coolly surveyed his brother. "Try to remember there are a lot of people watching."

  The night held too many surprises. Patrick had come to the wedding!

  He had chosen his arrival time well. Oh, God, if she could only will herself to faint. What if she panicked and started screaming? Her stomach roiled. It would serve Patrick right if she retched all over his shirtfront. Her embarrassment could hardly be worse than her shame. The masquerade was over. What would Patrick's next words be?

  "Think I'll claim a brother's rights, T.K., and dance with the bride. Give the good folks something more to talk about." He didn't attempt to hide the triumph in his voice, and with a mocking laugh, he guided her onto the dance floor.

  She had no trouble following his lead. He didn't speak right away, but after they had circled the room, he murmured close to her ear, "My God, you're beautiful. No wonder T.K. fell in love with you." He hummed a few words, then paused. "I'd bet a good grubstake you're a virgin."

  Why hadn't he exposed her?

  Working to still the trembling in her knees, she spoke curtly. "Have you had enough experience with virgins to make a safe bet?"

  He chuckled. "Lots of spit and vinegar. I like that. First time T.K. and I ever saw eye to eye on the same woman." He took his hand from her waist and smoothed a curl from her face, smiling when she jerked from his touch "You're a fascinating woman, but don't worry. I'll never plunder my brother's orchard."

  "How noble of you." She quivered with rage and deliberately missed a step to grind a heel into the top of his foot. His muttered oath brought such satisfaction she was tempted to do it again. "I usually follow more easily."

  "Fascinating but dangerous, Lee. I'll remember that." Limping, he still continued to move with the music. "Tell me, Lee. . . . "

  What a charade! His cat-and-mouse game had begun to get on her nerves. "You know very well I'm not Lee DuBois."

  "Since our poker game."

  "Why did you wait until the wedding to show up?"

  "And miss the fun? Now why would I do that?"

  "I can't imagine. Why would you?"

  "Where's your sense of humor, sister?"

  "I have none where you're concerned. You got my stepsister into trouble, then you rode away. You didn't even say good-bye to her."

  He spoke sardonically, the muscle in his jaw hard. "It wasn't exactly her first heat."

  Elise curbed the impulse to slap the impudence from his face, but he was right. Her stepsister had thumbed her nose at convention. "She died and you weren't man enough to claim your child."

  "Those are harsh words, sweetie. I saw that the kid had a good home, didn't I? What better place than the Lazy B?"

  "You're right. Considering that you're his father, the ranch is the best place for him. Here with T.K. and me. I can't believe a father could be so uncaring. Are you going to put a claim on him?"

  Patrick shook his head. "I'm not a family man, dear sister."

  "Stop calling me sister, for God's sake."

  "Why are you crabbing? After the tornado, you pretended to be the boy's mother. That put you in a spot to snare a rich husband. Sure as hell gave you a nice home. What's your name? Your honest-to-God name?"

  "Elise DuBois."

  "I remember your old man. Good with cards. So are you. I suppose if you couldn't have gotten a foot in the door at the Lazy B, you would have earned your living with cards. We've got a lot in common, sister."

  She choked back her fury, afraid tears would come in spite of herself. "I didn't want to lose Toddie. I love him. He's like my own child. I pretended he was mine so I could take care of him."

  "A right admirable plan, but you knew that I'd come back some day, that I could expose you."

  "I planned to take Toddie and run."

  "Why didn't you?"

  She sputtered. What could she say? "I don't know."

  His laughter chilled like fingernails on a barn door. "You fell in love with T.K., and he fell in love with you. Each of you using my kid as an excuse to marry. What a joke."

  Elise looked over his shoulder, a stab of jealousy clouding her eyes when she saw T.K. dancing with Maggie, inclining his head to hear, then laughing at what the woman had to say. When he looked up, Elise met his gaze. Her panic returned.

  "When do you plan to tell T.K. about me? Tonight? The people will love it," she said bitterly.

  Patrick's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Think I'll let you tell T.K. Wish I could be around when you do."

  The party grew louder, the music faster, the dancing more daring. Deadly calm himself, T.K. saw Lee blink back her tears. He could feel her misery. She had married one man, only to have the man she truly loved arrive at the wedding too late to stop it.

  In her present state, she probably thought Patrick had come to claim her. And Patrick cocksure, arrogant, overbearing, whose first and last thoughts were for himself had made Lee the center of attention. He had flirted outrageously with her, made an elaborate show of dancing with her, then returned her to her husband. Moments later Patrick had Maggie in his arms. Hy-Meadow gossips would have something to whisper about for months.

  T.K. lowered his gaze wanting to read some message in his wife's face. His wife! They had just e
xchanged vows, and he had promised to protect her. But how could he defend her against his own brother? There was one thing he could do. He could spare her more pain at seeing Patrick fawn over Maggie Cook.

  "Shall we sneak away upstairs when nobody's looking?"

  Drawing a shattering breath, she leaned against him. Her trembling body betrayed her agitation. She tried to smile. "Yes, it's time."

  He could almost imagine what thoughts were racing through her mind: fear that he would recognize she still loved Patrick, distaste at going to bed with him when Patrick was so near.

  T.K. placed his arm around her. Why had she drawn closer to him, like a child asking to be shielded from hurting herself? He stared down into her beautiful, frightened face and knew he should distance himself from her. Instead his words surprised him. "Shall we go the back way?"

  "All right," she whispered.

  Outside the wind was chilly, blowing from the north. It would bring an early snow before October made much headway. He drew Lee next to him, as if by holding her he could steady her trembling. "This way," he said softly and guided her through the darkness to the back stairway.

  Called the back stairs, the stairway had been built on the outside of the house allowing private access to servants' quarters on the third floor. A landing afforded entrance at the second floor. The weathered banisters were sturdy enough. They had provided for clandestine meetings more than once. When Patrick had lived at home, he had used it often.

  T.K. wondered if his brother entertained ideas of using the entrance that night or if he planned to hang around at all?

  The night was clear with a thousand bright stars. The air smelled of smoke blended with the aroma of barbecued beef. A night bird announced its arrival and received an answering trill.

  T.K. let Elise precede him up the steps, and when she reached the top, he leaned around to open the door. With his arm about her waist, he led her down the dark hallway, past the room they had turned into a nursery for Toddie, to the master bedroom.

  A blazing fire burned in the stone fireplace. Lighted candles glowed on the mantel flickering shadows on the big four-poster bed. The covers were turned back invitingly, expectantly. He shouldn't have been surprised the room smelled of bayberry. Vesper's touch, as were the roses.

  He loosened his tie. "Lee."

  Apprehension appeared in her magnificent eyes. "Yes?"

  "Honey girl, come here."

  Her voice became a whisper. "Don't you want me to take off my clothes? I can change behind the screen."

  In answer, he held out his arms. "That's my job," he said huskily. His heart thundered a warning, but it went unheeded. He had married her. He wanted her. To hell with Patrick.

  He closed his arms around her and bent his head to brush his lips against her cheek, fearing she'd struggle if he tried to do more, He wanted nothing but sweet acquiescence that he could stroke into blind passion.

  T.K. touched her earlobe with his tongue, and his warm breath stirred the tendrils at her nape. When he lowered his head, his mouth was just short of her lips. "We needn't worry about running out of time," he said softly. "We've got all night."

  She made a tiny sound deep in her throat and fitted her body closer. "I wish the night would go on forever."

  T.K.'s big body hardened, responding to the sensual appeal in her words. He slid his hands to begin a slow exploration of her body, seeking soft feminine curves and warm flesh. "I want you to have your wish, honey."

  "Do you?"

  "I'll make it the best night of your life," he promised tenderly.

  Her hair rioted about her shoulders, a golden cascade that challenged the blazing fireplace. T.K. gently ran his fingers through the silky mane, all the while wanting her to reach for his kiss.

  "Guess the first move is up to me," he murmured. "When I do something right, you can tell me." He ran his tongue over the curve in her upper lip. After brushing her mouth with his, he tried again, letting his tongue slide coaxingly to part her lips. Her soft sigh gave him entrance, and he dipped into its sweetness. He kissed her deeply, savoring the moist interior, wanting more, always more.

  When he could trust himself to speak, he smiled down at her. "Want to get rid of the clothes now?" He loosened the buttons on the back of her dress, watching her face as each one was released. He let her dress drop away to fall around her feet, and her trembling began again. He slowed to stroke her bare arms and shoulders. "Afraid?"

  Her eyes closed. "Yes."

  "Of me?"

  "And the night."

  T.K. lifted her face by cupping her chin. "Of what will happen between us?"

  Forming the word yes with soft pink lips, she made no sound.

  Why was she so fearful? "Don't you know I would never hurt you?" He spoke soothingly, letting his voice caress and reassure as his hands wandered down her body. "I want to make love to you."

  "I know," she whispered.

  He bent down to her breast, gently taking the nipple between his lips. She choked back a cry, and he drew away to search her face. "Did I do something you didn't like?" he asked huskily.

  "Yes. No."

  "Yes, no." He smiled tenderly. "Which is it? Yes or no?"

  "I like what you do," she whispered.

  He kissed her left breast, then nuzzled the other. "I like it, too."

  Her breath was sweet, and he raised his head to kiss her, ravishing her mouth and leading her tongue into a wild and seductive dance. "Yes, honey, yes."

  She raised a beseeching face to his, her eyes filled with tears. "T.K., Patrick and I"

  Anger slammed into his stomach, then raced through his body like a prairie fire. He forced her away from him. "Still thinking of Patrick?"

  "Please, T.K."

  "Please, while you stammer out your lovesick confession? Tonight proved to both of us that it isn't over between you and my brother.'' He glared down at her, his dark gaze traveling the length of her body. "I've wanted you almost from the first time I saw you. And God help me, I want you now."

  "I'm sorry about the meeting with him tonight, but when we met at Maggie's, we"

  "You met at Maggie's!" He was shaking with fury. "You can spare me the damned details."

  "Listen, T.K."

  "You listen. I've been so besotted with wanting you I refused to see how you really felt. There's more to marriage than saying the words or offering kisses." His voice grated. "I won't tell anybody we didn't spend the night together. You can tell Patrick whatever you please. Now I've got to get out of here."

  He heard her cry, but he hurried on, almost throwing himself down the stairs. His long strides took him toward the corral. A few minutes later, with the cinch tightened around his buckskin's belly, he swung into the saddle. Once past Juan's hut, and impatient to be gone, he nudged Buck into a run.

  The moon rode high in the sky, lighting the trail toward the canyon. An hour later, he reached Frenchman's Ford and dismounted. He drank from the stream, then gathered sticks for a fire. Soon, it blazed to warm him and drive the chill away. He threw himself down and leaned back against a giant willow tree.

  His mind rehashed the events of the night, relived the feel of Lee in his arms, the sweetness of her mouth, and the pain of leaving her. He remembered her flashing smile when she saw Patrick and their easy familiarity on the dance floor. Until he had seen it with his own eyes, he had refused to believe she could still care for Patrick. T.K. cursed softly. He'd heard that some women fell in love once and no more, that they never again met a man they could love deeply.

  Pain and anger still raged in his chest. What course should he take?

  Suddenly aware, he listened. The sound seemed to float in on the breeze, the crunch of a foot, the quelled snort of a horse. His buckskin pawed at the ground. T.K. put his hand on his gun. "I hear," he whispered to the stallion.

  The voice spoke from behind him. "My friend leaves his backside exposed."

  Grayhawk. He should have known from the Indian's stealthy approach. "Why
the hell is a Comanche buck following me?"

  "My brother leaves his marriage bed to ride alone in the darkness. I would know why."

  "MacKenzie loaded up his officers and left early. Why aren't you reading sign to know where they hide out with their wagons full of rifles?"

  "The signs will be there in the morning. I followed the man who should know not to ride at night when his mind is not on the journey."

  T.K. tried to find a comfortable spot. "I met a woman I wanted, and I got to thinking I could have it all: the woman, a child, a home. And then the past rose up and hit me in the gut."

  "So you seek the prairie to soften your grief."

  "I suppose to the primitive mind it seems that way."

  Grayhawk chuckled. "My friend is edgy. A courageous man without courage."

  "Are you some kind of a mind reader? Or maybe a medicine man?"

  Grayhawk settled himself cross-legged on the ground. "A man doesn't have to be a mind reader, and I am a medicine man to my people. I saw you leave when you could be spending time with you wife."

  "No," T.K. said harshly. In his mind, he could still see Lee as he had left her. She had released her hair. He remembered the feel of her. He had wanted everything, for her to want him, to see it in her face. Her eyes had betrayed her sadness. And in his loneliness and longing, he wanted to get as far away from her as possible.

  He glanced at the man, who a short time ago had taken on the guise of civilization, and then, just as abruptly, had discarded it. "It was all a dream, Grayhawk. My wife is in love with my brother. She had his child."

  "The price for passion. Did she tell you she was in love with him?"

  "She didn't have to. She welcomed him with a smile as warm as the afternoon sun."

  "Perhaps she was only thinking of the child."

  "Or that she's married to one man and wanting another. People in Hy-Meadow consider her a they think she's a"

  "A harlot? And you?"

  T.K. shook his head. "I've never been able to picture her that way."

  "Good. A man should believe in his wife."

  "Patrick treats her casually. Not as her" He was in over his head. He couldn't say the word out loud.