Michael sneered. "And how do we know you won't lead us away so you can count us as part of your damn coup?"
But Two Trees did not answer, because he had already disappeared as quickly and quietly as he had come.
Michael stared after him in the darkness, aware that his men were watching, waiting. He turned to face them. "All right. I know I may have spoken prematurely. You haven't said you'd stick it out with me, and I don't blame any of you if you want to turn back, but I don't have any choice except to hope I can trust them."
Joe Clyder had taken out his pistol and sat gripping it tightly. More to himself than anyone else, he muttered, "We coulda taken the bastard. There was one of him and five of us. We coulda killed him "
"Sure we could," Pete agreed. "But you were thinkin' like the rest of us, Clyder, how there might have been more of them hidin' out there. It was best to sit and listen, 'cause we're still alive."
"It'd be crazy to trust them," Sterne Walters put in.
Ethan Terrell said, "Well, I know a little bit about Indians, too, and it's true that most of the time when they give their word, they'll keep it, unless you turn on 'em. And he came to us. And like Pete said, we're still alive. So maybe he's makin' a genuine offer, and they really do want us to help 'em kill their enemies."
Sterne shook his head. "I don't know. It's still risky."
"Do what you want. All of you," Michael said sharply.
They all looked at him.
"You're forgetting the one thing I care about. Jacie is alive, and I intend to do everything I can to free her, even if I have to do it alone."
"I still think it would be takin' a chance," Sterne said. "They could use us and then scalp us."
Ethan again argued, "And I say the bastards have a sense of honor."
"Well, what's it going to be?" Michael was impatient to know their decision. "I said I'd triple what I originally promised you."
The others looked at Pete once more. They would go along with whatever he decided.
When Pete had heard Michael Blake was hiring a sort of posse to head west to run down somebody that had stolen from him, he had asked around and learned that he was quite wealthy, and he knew Michael could well afford to more than triple their pay. "It's like this," he said, "If you're willin' to risk your life to try and get your woman back after she ran off with another man, that's your business. But if you want us to risk ours, it's going to cost you ten times what we agreed on."
The other men looked at each other incredulously, it was more money than any of them had ever dreamed of having.
Michael did not bat an eyelash. "You've got it. And I'll do what I said—make sure you get it no matter what happens."
"I'll drink to that." Pete lifted the bottle, took a swig, then passed it to the next man.
Michael declined the toast and walked away. He wanted, needed, to be alone. Finding Jacie was all that mattered now, making sure she was safe. And no matter if she had run away with Zach, he knew he would swallow his pride and take her back.
After all, the thought of ever loving—or marrying—any other woman had never occurred to him.
Always and only, it had been Jacie.
Chapter 20
It was almost dark, and Luke was again leaning back against the rocks, watching Jacie as she rinsed the cooking utensils in the stream. His warriors teased him about using white man's tools, but during the time he had lived among them, he had discovered small things like frying pans and tin mugs that could easily be packed and taken along and saw no reason not to have them. He had also learned to like the white man's food, like bacon and steak, which he ate every chance he got. But now there was only fish. Jacie managed to catch some every day, and he was tired of it. He might have gone hunting for deer or rabbits but secretly enjoyed her ministering to him, so he continued to appear weak. Actually, the wound wasn't as deep as he'd thought at first and was healing nicely, thanks to her skills.
But he knew he needed to get rid of her and return to his people to help make ready for the cold weather ahead. Why then, he chided himself, was he pretending to be worse? He was only torturing himself and wished he could muster the willpower to turn away from her, because his desire increased with every moment they were together.
It was a cool night, with a gentle breeze blowing, and a full moon beaming down to bathe the earth in silver. Jacie returned from the stream, and in the dying firelight, Luke noted the determined look on her face. She had very carefully avoided him since the night he had almost kissed her, keeping her distance except for changing the dressing on his wound, and then doing so quickly. Now, however, she sat down to face him and said, "It's time we had a serious talk. I saved your life, and you owe it to me to do as I ask and take me to Fort Worth."
"Fort Worth," he said mockingly. "That's all you think about."
"I'm willing to go anywhere to get help. I just thought that would be the closest place I might find it."
"Why don't you go back where you came from?"
She gave a stubborn shake of her head. "Not till I find out what really happened to my mother. And Fort Worth is the nearest settlement, isn't it? So that's where I want to go. Surely there will be someone there who'll help me, as soon as I buy a new dress, so I won't look like an Indian—" She caught herself. Now he would suspect she had money hidden away and try to steal it. Quickly she attempted to cover. "I mean, I'll have to get a job of some sort so I can buy new clothes."
He could tell she was nervous and suspected the reason. "I know about the money you have hidden away inside the small blanket you keep tucked in your satchel. I also know about the necklace made of diamonds and a stone the color of your eyes, but you don't have to worry about me stealing from you."
A gasp of surprise melded into one of indignant anger. "So you've been going through my things. You've no right—"
"I was curious about the herbs and potions you have, and I happened to feel a lump in the hem of the little baby blanket and discovered your hidden treasures. I don't care about them, but what I do want to know is why you have poison."
"Poison?" she echoed, swallowing hard and pretending not to know what he was talking about.
"I recognize the seeds of the trumpet-shaped flower that grows on a vine, and I am aware that when they are ground into a powder and put in drink they can make a person very sick, even kill him if the dose is too strong. Why would you need something so evil?"
"Mehlonga, the Cherokee who taught me his medicine, gave them to me should I need to defend myself against an enemy."
"And have you thought of giving them to me?" He watched her keenly as he spoke, seeking the truth in her face, in her eyes.
"No. You would have harmed me that first night if you were going to, so I felt no threat from you, even though you're still my enemy"—she tensed, remembering—"because you are a Comanche, the same as the ones who killed my family and stole my mother and made her suffer ever since."
Luke could have told her that while Sunstar had endured the same hardships as other Indian women, she had never been mistreated. But he kept silent as Jacie unleashed her resentment.
"I think I hate all of you," she said quietly, bitterly. "And if I do find my mother still alive, I'm going to take her home as fast as I can."
"And what makes you think she would want to go? Maybe she's managed to find peace, happiness. The Indian loved his life before your people came to bring disease, kill our buffalo, steal our land. Maybe before the misery came, she learned to love the Indian's world, too. But tell me," he went on, curious, "Don't you have other family? A husband? A lover perhaps?"
"No." Michael could not be considered her lover, and the engagement was never made official, anyway, she reasoned in order to quell her suddenly nagging conscience. His proposal had been interrupted that night, and she had never officially told him afterward that she would marry him.
"But you must have some family," he prodded.
"They're all dead now."
"Then wher
e would you take your mother if you found her and she agreed to go with you? Your money won't last long."
Jacie flared, "We would get by somehow."
"You showed me the locket with the likeness of your mother inside, but what about the necklace? Did that also belong to your mother? You were foolish to bring something that valuable with you, anyway. Others might not be as honorable as I am."
"Not that it's any of your business, but I didn't intend to bring it. Someone put it in the blanket without my knowing about it. I suppose they were worried I might run out of money and need to sell it to get home." She saw no need to tell him about Sudie.
"But you said you have no family." His persistence was becoming annoying. His brows rose, and there was the play of a smile on his lips. "You mean you have a friend rich enough to give you jewelry to sell in case you need the money to get home, but this friend isn't willing to help you in the way you need it most—to come out here with you to search for your mother. I think I want nothing to do with your friends, Jacie. I prefer my people, who are there for me when I truly need them."
She was really starting to get angry. "Listen, the person who gave me that necklace didn't know I was leaving, because I didn't ask for his help. Someone else put it there."
Luke seized on that. "You mean a man cared enough for you to spend so much money on a gift, and you didn't feel close enough to him to share something so important?"
Truly flustered, Jacie stammered "He—he didn't know about my mother—my real mother, I mean."
"Why didn't you tell him?"
"I just didn't." Oh, why wouldn't he stop?
"I think you were ashamed for anyone to know your mother had been living with Indians all these years."
"That's not so," she cried, infuriated that he was able to make her feel so guilty. "He... he wouldn't understand, that's all," she said lamely.
"You would want to take her back to live among these people who don't understand? People who will look down on her for having lived with Indians? And this man who gave you the necklace, he was more than a friend, wasn't he? He had to have been, to give you such an expensive gift."
She felt the color rise in her cheeks. "He asked me to marry him." There. She had told him and was glad, hoping now that it was out in the open it would somehow dispel the tension surging between them. By day she had tried to ignore him, but at night her dreams betrayed her, as he filled the darkness with the light of his kisses and caresses. And always she awoke in a tremor of hunger and longing, cursing herself for being unable to control the fantasies of her mind.
Luke cut into her brooding. "And how do you think he will like having a mother-in-law who's probably more Comanche by now than white?"
"He will accept her because he loves me," she said despite her doubts.
"And do you love him?"
"Of course, I do." Jacie answered weakly. The conversation was making her more and more uncomfortable, and this was not what she wanted to talk about anyway and said so. "My personal life is not your concern. Now I remind you again, I saved your life, and you owe it to me to do as I ask. Take me back to civilization where I can find someone compassionate enough to want to help me." Her voice had risen with her frustration.
He grinned lazily. "I saved your life, too, so I'd say that makes us even."
"Oh, damn you." Jacie got to her feet. "And to hell with you. I'll find my own way."
He cocked his head to one side, thinking how she was even more fetching when she was all riled up, eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed, her bosom rising and falling and the slight twitch to her hips. "You aren't going anywhere, Jacie, so calm down."
"You certainly can't keep me here day after day to slave for you. You're able to take care of yourself. You don't need me, and I damn sure don't need you."
"Oh, I'm not going to keep you," he said easily. "In a day or two, I'll—"
He froze.
He saw the flash of steel in the moonlight but never caught the lightning movement of Jacie's hand as she whipped out her knife. There was no time to dodge. Only one heartbeat was between him and death as he braced himself.
He actually felt the stinging heat of the blade as it brushed the side of his cheek, and realizing with a quick rush that she had missed, he bolted to his feet to lunge and knock her backward to the ground, pinning her with the full weight of his body as he cursed. "God damn it, woman, have you lost your mind? You kill me and you'll die out here. You'd never find your way back...."
He fell silent to see how she was looking at him with heated gaze, her lips parted ever so slightly, and to note how she did not struggle, though he had to be hurting her. Instead, she seemed to be yielding, taking him with her to fall into the softness of her.
"I did not try to kill you," she whispered. "Look."
Without letting her go, he twisted around to see the snake. Copper-colored, with bold reddish-brown crossbands on the midline of its back, it lay scant inches from where he had been resting, its head neatly severed by Jacie's knife.
"It's one of the snakes you spoke of that doesn't rattle," she said in a tiny voice, overcome by the heady feeling of his nearness.
"It's called an Osage copperhead, and it's deadly," he said, turning his gaze to meet hers. There was no mistaking the desire he saw in her sensuous lavender eyes. "But not nearly so dangerous as what you make me feel in this moment, little one. I am going crazy with wanting..."
His mouth came down on hers softly, tenderly, but as her lips parted in submission, the kiss became fierce, possessive. She welcomed his tongue, melding against hers, and at the same instant felt his hips undulate ever so lightly, enough that his hardness pressed into her.
Jacie knew in a few seconds there would be no turning back. Though his mouth was bruising she could still twist away from him, scream for mercy, perhaps bolt and run to hide in the shadows till his passion cooled. But what of her own need, the driving pulse of desire she could no longer hold back? What she wanted she could not be sure of, for she had no knowledge of what it was like to mate with a man. There had been kisses, but none like this, and there had been tingles of delight, but never endless waves of longing rolling over her again and again.
She felt caught in the tide of passion, unable to move, not wanting to, powerless to tear herself from his arms, to fight her way to the surface of reality. This should not be happening. But she did not care. In that moment in time, she could more easily have stopped breathing than deny this wonder, this awe, this new and wonderful thing that her body had become, that he was making her become. She wanted him, and if she regretted it later, so be it. This was here and now in God's wilderness of truth, where there could be no pretense, no denial.
Twisting her hands ever so slightly, he let them go, and they moved upward to clutch the hardness of his shoulders as she opened her mouth yet wider so he could drink the nectar of her acquiescence.
He rolled to his side, taking her with him, reaching to cup her breasts and squeeze with tender possession. She was molded against him, and time seemed to stand still, but then he was rising, taking her with him, leading her, his gaze locked hypnotically on hers in the streaming moonlight, to the blankets spread on less rocky ground. There, he held her away from him, reveling in the serene beauty of her face illumined by the kissing light sent from heaven above. Slowly he reached to lift the hem of her dress, sliding it up to her waist, then on upward, and she raised her arms so he could easily remove it. Flinging it into the shadows, she stepped from her drawers, then helped him with the fastenings of her chemise. The buckskin garment was not meant to be worn with undergarments, but Jacie had been shy—till now.
And then she was naked before him, and he ran his hands up and down her back, liking the feel of her, the tight curves of her buttocks, the trim firmness of her thighs, marveling at her tiny waist. He trailed his fingertips around to once more touch the fullness of her breasts, to pinch ever so tenderly the hardness of her nipples.
She was close against him, aware th
ere was very little left between them now, only the breechclout, and his desire was evidenced there. He was a head taller, and she could not stop looking at the rugged handsomeness of his face, the granite lines, softened with lust as he smiled ever so slightly. His hair hung about his massive shoulders, which she clutched as though too frightened to let go. But then she yielded a little more and left her innocence further behind her as she dared to trail her hands lower—first to savor and squeeze the corded muscles of his arms and then to caress the sinewy hardness of his chest.
As though with a mind of their own, her fingers played onward, smoothing across his rocklike belly, then boldly going to explore rigid hips... the lines of brawny thighs.
He kissed her again and held her so close their hearts seemed to beat as one. When they were breathless, he moved to trail his lips down her throat, and she threw her head back in divine submission.
Downward he went, savoring, suckling each nipple, evoking delicious sighs from deep in her throat as he thrust her bosom forward to take yet more.
Luke dropped to his knees, burrowing his face in her belly, cupping her buttocks and pulling her tight. And when Jacie thought she could stand no more, when she was sure she would die if he did not take her where her body screamed to go, he drew her down with him to the ground.
"It is your first time," he murmured hotly. Not a question but a statement, for he was sure she had never had a man before. "It will hurt a little, but I will be gentle."
Jacie could not speak, for she was too caught up in the enchanting aura of passion gone wild. Easier it would have been to turn the wind to blow away the moon than try and resist the surge of her body's craving to satiate the hunger unleashed. She allowed him to spread her legs, and bend her knees, and wrap her about him. And when he entered, slowly at first, she cried out, but only a little, for quickly the pleasure of their coupling smothered any discomfort or pain. She gave herself to him freely, clutching his back to hold him tighter against her as he rocked to and fro.
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